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Beneath The Dark Sun


Started by MaxxRocker
Post #129340
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Introduction

It began in the Tyr region ten years ago. The Sorcerer Kings rule absolute in their city-states tyranny and fear they ruled by. Slavery the tool they most employed to achieve goals of varying degrees and even freedom came at a hefty price. I write this story one riddled with dangerous travels gathered with guile and tenacity.

My name is Hareck and my story begins as most do in this burning world we call home as a slave to one of many merchant houses. Mine called the city-state of Urik home. I like most dwarves found myself burdened by hard labor day in and day out. I worked under the scorching suns of Athas gathering giant hair for rope. Years this had been my labor and years had gone by with little to happen that was out of the ordinary.

Alas came the day when I grew weary age being a harsh truth and with my waning my owner decided it time to sell me off before I lose all value to him. I found myself bagged and aboard one of the many slaver caravans that travel the endless sands. No idea of direction or where we went I was locked in a hot dark room with 25 others. It was cramped and scorching no windows and only one barred door. The walls made of petrified wood and the bars made of bone gloomy as ever.

I was lined up with many other dwarves and a few elves all of us pushed together little room to maneuver our hands bound in cuffs. The cuffs had rope going through the loops raising our arms and hands above our heads and fixing them to post in the wall. Many struggled some to exhaustion and even a few to death trying to pull, but it was of no use and I knew that. Worst of all the bitter irony was evident the ropes made of the giant hair my laborers had so long produced.

Look around you I thought for this is Athas. This is your home and it thirst for many things. It thirst for all quenching water to wash away the sweat and sand. Slowly dying it thirst for rejuvenation a chance for relief and grow a new life. Brutal and savage in every day it thirst for the tranquility of peace. It thirst as I do and neither of us can find a magical ever lasting relief.

My world is one of only searing heat endless like the deserts that cover it. My world sucked dry by foul magic, swept raw by wind, and parched by the sun. Add to it all the thirst of knowledge for so many of us to find out why, to fix this, or for some to exploit this. Yes this is Athas my home.

Days went on like this left to my own thoughts as little conversation could be found among a group in desperation. What would we say how we expected to die? How the gruel made us sick and the water was never enough? Even with the bags off our heads we knew little more than seeing the night and day pass us by. Guards came and went sometimes even Captain Weom would come for inspection, but perched above us on the second floor of the caravan with all the other noise never did we hear anything of great importance. Little did we know what would become of our trip.

In the middle of the night a scream came suddenly out "You can't stop a mekillot wagon!". A boom and crackling could be heard as a sudden shock wave ran through the wagon. Within a short time the smell of burning wood began to fill the air and a second scream came from the front of the wagon.

"They stopped us!" A guard screamed to a few others.
"We're doomed they've got a damned army!" Someone screamed in a panicked reply.

I could hear one of the monstrous mekillot's hiss and shake free. Those creatures always terrified me 4000 pounds of horror violent and mean. They needed a psionicist just to keep them under control.

All 25 of us shackled as we were listened intently and tried to edge closer to the beginning sounds of a fight. We could hear the scurrying of guards on the terrace commands being yelled back and forth as they tried to prepare. Minutes passed and we heard screams of pain, grunts of men dying, and a stench began to fill the air. We couldn't tell who was winning, but we caught that the attack was from some band of elves. When those words were heard the elven prisoners grinned.

"Jura Dai." One of them said and gave his kin a nod.

I had heard the name thrown around mostly by merchants speaking of just another tribe of nomadic elves preying on caravans. They didn't usually attack with an army and they didn't usually attack such guarded caravans especially not ones travel in groups. I could see other prisoners posing the same questions, but we had little time to think before the clashing of swords grew so close we could feel the ringing like it was just outside the door of our cell.

Within moments we heard a battle cry cut short by the gurgling of blood before the sound of limp lifeless body hitting the floor followed. Blood leaked underneath the door and touched my toes as well as the other slaves beside and across from me. The locks on the door began to click and clank before giving way. The door creaked open and 10 elves with weapons made of bone and some with pieces of armor made of bone came in. They wore little clothing, but still more than the breech clothes we slaves had been left with.

They walked around and looked at the prisoners ignoring any, but the elves. As they approached the elves of the group they looked for markings and asked them questions in a language I could not understand. As they finished all, but one of the elven prisoners were freed and handed weapons and armor from fallen guards. They left us there no acknowledgement or consideration for our fates. It seemed they were fine to let us die in the burning caravan littered with bodies and blood.

We sat listening to screams of dying men, the crackling of fire, and the snapping of bones all while still trapped in our chains. It seemed like an eternity as the hours passed, but little difference was that from the normal life of a slave. As the noise died down and the fires seemed to stop we could hear the Jura Dai speaking in Elven. Most of us couldn't make much of it out other than that they were salvaging all they could. It was in these whispers though that I heard the beginning of the story of a group of travelers that sparked in me a great interest. I followed their trail and put together many pieces to give Athas a story.

((This is a story based on a D&D campaign I am currently in turned into a story format. I hope people enjoy this and i will continue to update it though even this is not a complete version of the first session as I did use some of this simply as setting up the background info. The main cast will be the player characters of the party who I have yet to introduce or talk about as I was trying to set up the scene with an outside character))

Chapter I: Coincidences in the Night (Coming Soon)

It was blistering hot the sun beat down upon the Caravan and four slaves. They like the rest had been sold by a Merchant house in Urik to go to Tyr. They didn't know what for or why, but these prisoners were not content to leave themselves in such a state. As they stirred they looked to each other and investigated and inspected trying to gauge the situation at hand.

First among them who stood out was the Half-Giant Crag. He took up most of the space touching against both next to him and his legs even bumping into those across from him. He was a dark tan muscled man covered in bluish gray tattoos from the sides of his head down to his ankles. His body was shaved though some hair showed signs of growing back in the time he had been so unkempt. His eyes were large and blue fairly more alert than most Half-Giants they seemed. He was a little shorter than some Half-Giants and a little thinner in frame, though it made little difference compared to the others.

The next obvious among them was a Pterran gnawing at himself he seemed wild yet much more intelligent than what is common of most Pterrans encountered by those who live in Tyr Region. He looked just as any other Pterran did strange lizard men his only outstanding feature was an odd seventh toe.
This post was last modified: February 5th 2014, 08:50 PM by MaxxRocker


The best government is a benevolent tyranny tempered by an occasional assassination-Voltaire
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The following 2 users Like MaxxRocker's post:
Archmage Alator, Sarin strdr
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I enjoyed this. looking forward to more.


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Post #132140
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Thanks I plan once I get the darksun rp on this stie all worked out I will get back to this. I am glad you liked it and I hope I will be able to keep it updated and current with my groups sessions.


The best government is a benevolent tyranny tempered by an occasional assassination-Voltaire
GM Vlos Hithern actively recruiting EP Guild Check us out!
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