The Middle Realm: The Hunt for Dragonbane

[Shenkt]

The Middle Realm: The Hunt for Dragonbane


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The Middle Realm: The Hunt for Dragonbane  

[Shenkt]

An account of the begining of the Lepeche Empire, as told by Hammondrwa, a simple elf, who has lived out his years as a hermit in the Dragon's Spine Mountians. 22 D.S.

Cold is the night now, cold is the history. I am dying of a disease that kills elves and all I can think of to write is how cold I am inside. Now it is the twenty-second year Of the Dragons Slumber, and so it is also the twenty-second year since the Empire's Birth. I, merely a hermit am well in to my sixtieth year since my own birth.

Can you feel the cold too? Ever since the Dragon was lulled to sleep the winters feel longer, the nights colder. Now since I am dying I am not afraid to speak out, to yell heresy in the name of the Old Gods and try to strike a blow at the Empire.

They angered the Old Gods, the Empire, and now we the people of the Middle Realm are being punished for our insolence. I wish it were not so, but the Empire is ever trying to rid themselves of our Creators, by killing our link to them: The Grand Elder Dragon of the Middle Realm.

If you buy into the Empire's lies they tell you He is dead you know.

That is a lie. It is a lie it is a lie it is a LIE.

I have lived with the guilt of what I have done. I have lived with my sin and now I must speak of it before I meet He Who Harkens The Sound.

I was the bodyguard to one of the fifty wizards who lulled the Dragon to sleep I watche dafter the Dragon slept they tried every magic at there disposal, every siege machine and even some legendary weapons used by the Heroes of legend to try to puncture the eyelids of the sleeping dragon. They tried every spot on the dragon, and yet nothing worked.

How do I know the Dragon still sleeps? Becuase they couldnt kill it then.

I heard a rumor, yesterday, the wind told me. It said the Empire was crusading for the Dragonsbane, a weapon that was forged by Lady Death herself to kill the Creators Dragons in the time before Time.

Now, I leave this book at the Library of the Kings in Minapatak, hoping some youth will find it, and not do what i did - maybe, i have this wild hope that maybe becuase of this small warning to the Middle Realm they can stop this... crime... against nature and the Creators and it might atone for my sins.

Alas, if you are reading this, I have gone to the Divide of Ha'ahpsur, and jumped in. I will atone for my sin.

Hammondrwa, The Stained
-Battalion Commander of the 50th Imperial Regiment
Prince of Sedra
Son of King Dassius,
The Hermit, Ka,
Year 22 of the Dragons Slumber  

[Shenkt]

An essay in response to Genmormisu's letter that was in response to Commander Hammondrwa's note on the Dragon, as written by a Yosif the scholar, resident of Minkapatak, the Year is 24 DS.

Brother Scholars, did anyone note the fallacies in The Empire's Chief Historian's letter? He said the Old Gods were dea and then the next line not only did he include Mistress Death (A goddess of the Old Gods pantheon) but he said she killed them!

And Empire, we know you still have not killed the He Who Sleeps: Why else would you be looking for the Dragonsbane?

Eastern logic makes no sense, nither does thier philosophy.

Yosif the Scholar,
Year 24 of the Dragons slumber  

[Shenkt]

The Middle Realm: The Search for Dragonsbane

this Roleplay is an Advanced Roleplay, and is only intended for advanced, well written, mature roleplayers. The content of the roleplay is 18 years of age plus, and will be strictly moderated. The roleplay; The Search For Dragonsbane, is designed to test your roleplaying skills and put them to the limit. If you cannot get online at least once per day do not attempt to start becuase you will get left behind in the roleplay. Jasonmodding is stictly prohibited, a warning will be issued for the first offense; the second you will recive a temporary ban from the rolepaly and your post will be deleted; you may reenter the roleplay after sending me a private message to discuss your transgression.

The rules inside of the roleplay are fairly obvious. No teleporting, no teling the future or reading other peoples minds on a whim. The Empire streches up and down the fertile grounds and trying to do things like freeing slaves will not end up well for you. There is no rebellion and the Empire has complete military control over its lands.

The Fertile Grounds (all of the land between the Dragons Spine Mountians and the Sea of Bredeia) are under the complete control of the Empire, the Fertile Grounds are covered almost copletely in Farmlands, and the Empire is based economically on its agriculture. The desert of Hitaak is divided between warring Drow tribes, though Minkapatak is a safe-haven for all peoples and cultures. the city sits on a lone small mountian in the sesert and has the only source of water for hundreds of miles around. The walls are massive and there is no crime there. they kill anyone , for any crime.

Everything past the divide of Ha'ahpsur is under elven control mostly. the Dalkatia river is a massive, endless river that boats cannot sail upon becuase it is too treacherous. That, in part is why the Empire is unable to take the Forest. The cities of Pordra and Sombre both belong to the empire becuase the empire is trying to expand into the forest. Both the cities of Toleniarkia and Hylanadriaka are completely elven, and no races but elves are allowed.

Dragons are being hunted down and none remain in the Fertile Grounds. The Desert cannot support dragons and the great forest holds the last few, which angers the Empire and only fuels there invasion of the Sakateri forest.

The Wrold itself is very young, the Sea of Bredeia was created only a mere 50,000 years ago by two continential plates moving apart and in the next 5 million years it will be an ocean. (lol) Everything east of the Sea is barbarian lands and every attempt by the empire to expand across the sea is crushed by hordes of Barbarian species such as orcs and jakals.

Races include:
Human
Elf
Drow
Orc
Jakel
Dwarf (Dwarves left the area of the world the map covers to live on a completely different continent, though a few travelers remain) [example: marco polo in china]

Profile layout;
Roleplay Name:
Age: (nothing over 100, becuase i have not rolplayed with anyone who can do it properly.)
Race:
Looks:
Weapons: (nothing legndary)
Armor: (again, nothing legendary)
Magics: (Im going to really scrutinize this area. If its overreaching i will not accept the profile)
Bio:

I am currently accepting profiles, submit them here and i will tell you right away or not if you are accepted, or weather or not you need to make changes to your profile.

-With much love,
The God of Gods,
The cookie muncher of munchers,
The best poll-maker in the world,
The much missed, very loved,
Tamith the Merciful  

[The Diamond God]

Nedala Torath

Nedala and her entourage of drow house guards road through the open gates of the city of Sedra. She pulled the handkerchief that had been covering her moth and her nose down around her neck as she looked up at the portcullis raised above them. It had been a long, hard ride through the desert and over the mountains; they'd been raided four times by their fell drow and once by orcs in the foothills. She'd started out with thirty of her men, females all and was coming out the other side with only twenty. Damn them into the dragon's belly. The city, though it stunk of humans and other lesser creatures then drow, was a welcome sight. Nedala would have given her first born male child to get off this dammed horse she'd been riding. It's a miracle that this beast survived while my girls were killed. It grieved Nedala, on principle alone. She missed her riding lizard; it was too hot in the deep desert where her House ruled for horses or even camels to survive. They'd breed lizards large enough to ride that could stand the extremes; they were vicious things to behold.

She returned the handkerchief back to her face in an attempt to ward off the stench. Cities always smell bad; why does it surprise me that this one is different? Nedala saw the looks that the common folk were giving this strange column of cloaked and armed riders and pulled the cowl of her light cloak down lower, shading her eyes. They were to spend the night in the city, resting and being feasted by the local district leader before pressing onto the capital under the Empire's banner instead of her Houses', with the Emperor's own guards along with her Houses'. An insult. She was severally tempted to slit the district leader's throat and murder her "honor guard" on the road. A satisfying idea, but too common. It would be too hard frame the deaths of the guardsmen in the Empire's own lands; nothing cut like a drow's blade. It was too...distinct. One of her soldiers, Aluniira was riding a few paces ahead of the column. Nedala could hear her voice above the sounds of the city shouting in heavily accented Basic. Wherever a human was too slow for Aluniira's liking, her whip cracked above the human's head; Nedala had strike orders that no humans were to be killed during their stay in the city...much to everyone's anger and disgust.

"Make way, menche, make way for the princess of House Torath!"  

[The Diamond God]

Nedala Torath

Janos Slynt was an up-jumped butcher's son and laughed like a man chopping meat; unfortunately for Nedala, he was also the district leader. He'd greeted her like some kind of long-lost family member, and then left her alone after making sure that they were settled into their rooms; in the evening, they'd been summoned for some kind of a feast as honored guests of the Empire. It required that Nedala drudge up her rarely used courtesies and act that part of her royal blood. Once again, Slynt's wine cup had been emptied and he held it up; a servant refilled it with a tart red from over his shoulder. He is built like a keg and has a similar capacity. Lord Slynt was feasting the drow party in his hall among all of his people. It amused her to see that her twenty soldiers were sat at a table all to themselves. Another round of Slynt's laughter drew the drow back to him; he was reminding Nedala once more of just why she hated *menche. Is he babbling on about the wine? Gods above and below, this fool makes one want to kill themselves.

"...Fine red wine. Elvish. Quite the find; elvish wines aren't often this fine."

Nedala nodded absently, wishing the evening would end. She'd barely touched her wine (it was too sweet for her tastes) and was shocked by the sheer number of courses that had been served.

"It's very...rich."

"Rich. Yes, rich, that's the very word I was searching for; the very word. You have a gift for word, princess Nedala, if I might say so. And you tell a droll tale. Droll, yes."

She'd barely said anything all night long, let alone anything droll. The big frog-faced mad took another healthy gulp of the elvish wine. He was not a man for sipping, this lord; wine dribbled down the front of his fine robes. He was well and truly drunk. Ugh.

"You know, it's not often that you dark elves are seen in Sedra. Usually we're busy killing you, not feasting you."

He laughed again, spilling more wine on himself without seeming to notice it. Nedala's delicate nose curled up in disgust. <******** pig. Her eyes drifted over to Aluniira's back, wishing that she was sharing their table rather then in this place of honor on the dais.

[*German word. It means "common" or "lesser" people. In this case, lesser.]  

[The Diamond God]

Nedala Torath

Nedala had barely touched her lamprey pie, having been sufficiently filled on food some courses ago; servants swept it away and replaced it with some delicious smelled roasted onions and peppers. To her count, this was the sixteenth course. The drow had to remind herself not to kill the humans as Slynt continued his mindless prattle. The evening came to a close abruptly when one of the servants attempted to remove a half-eaten pie from one of Nedala's fellow females at their lonely table...and was smacked away roughly by the butt of a whip handle, the poisonous snake heads of the whip hissing at the whimpering boy. Slynt's guards, already edgy just from being around the disliked elves, drew sword and spear. Nedala's soldiers responded in kind, rising from the table; their weapons seemed to materialize into their hands, so quickly did the drow draw. Clearly they were having a foul time as well.

Slynt belatedly turned to Nedala, his frog-like mouth flapping with no sound escaping. He was red-face, though she could not tell if it was from the excesses of food and wine or if it was anger. Finally he found his tongue.

"Wh...what is the meaning of this?"

"I do not think Phaedra was finished."

Laughter floated up from the twenty-odd drow...but from no where else. Nedala stood, and touched a slender, ebony hand to the hilt of her long sword...meaningfully. She did not carry a snake-headed whip, unlike many of her sex; she found them to be distracting and an unwieldy weapon. She murmured some word of thanks and an excuse as to being road weary and strode out of the hall without a further word to the district leader, her boots ringing on the floor in the silent room. The rest of her soldiers followed a half-beat later. When they were safely out of the room full of drawn weapons, they sheathed their own and the low voiced talking began...in their own language, of course.

"Remind me to thank you for that, Phaedra."

"Call it even for not cutting my throat in the desert."

They shared a short laugh. Nedala knew where they were returning to (the barracks) but was not exactly paying attention to the people or the view around her, aside from her soldiers. Over-confidence was a weakness of hers, but one well earned. She was looking, but she wasn't seeing and therefore her crimson eyes passed right over Shenkt and never even saw him, or his companion.  

[The Diamond God]

Nedala Torath

A few hours after their forced egress, Nedala stepped out of the barracks turned over to the drow to get a bit of "fresh" air. She was surprised to see light and laughter still floating out of the great hall; she had assumed that the feast would have drawn to a close long ago, especially since it had been in their honor. Her interest peaked now, Nedala made her way back to the loud hall. For the most part, her entrance went unnoticed, and she liked it that way; she could watch without being seen. In the seat of honor to Slynt's right (where she herself had sat only a few hours before), she could see some well dressed fop. Nedala raised a white eyebrow. Another man for the Emperor? Or just a passing lordling? These humans seem to be full of them. She snagged a passing servant, laden down with food. The servant at first looked annoyed, and then scared when she saw Nedala's dark face.

"Yuh...yes m'lady?"

She didn't bother to correct the servant; humans never learned.

"Who is that beside Janos Slynt?"

"I dunno, m'lady. 'Scuse me."

She managed a tired curtsy and scuttled away before Nedala could say anything more. The drow sighed and leaned back against the wall near the great oak doors that led into the hall, watching Shenkt with frank curiosity. He was not like every other human; he didn't...fit right into the room.