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Welcome to Thule, a primordial land of fierce barbarians, elder horrors, and savage wilderness. In this ancient age, humankind is a young race, newly arisen on a monster-haunted Earth. Cities of cruel spledor lie scattered across the great lands of the north like a handful of gems strewn from a dead thief's hand.

This is a doomed age, a time of great deeds and inhuman terror destined to be lost and forgotten beneath the numbing cloak of endless winter. But for one glittering moment, Thule lives—and it is a fierce, cruel, splendid, and marvelous moment indeed.

 

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  2. Primeval Thule - #2 Red Chains

    They chatted for a time then lapsed into silent waiting. The three women felt exposed even though they were safe inside the shop. Noble went back about his business and opened the shop back up lest he draw suspicion. After an hour or more a small child about six years of age came in her dirty face matching her ragged dress. She handed Noble a rolled up note. A few minutes later he shooed the little girl out and approached the three Dhari. “I have news but it isn't good. It seems your queries were prophetic Aridha. It seems that Odass Stagg is coming to Marg and as usual games are being prepared.. Your Leafstan has been taken to the Arena pens. I am sorry.” He slides the coins you had paid him across the table to Neeva. “Take your coin and leave this accursed city this is not a time or place for vengeance.” This last is directed at Aridha but before she can reply a fervent tapping at a window draws everyone's attention. There a large crow perches tapping the frame, a small metallic disc attached to it's leg flashing in the sun. Noble moves to shoo the bird away but Tharra's hand on his arm stops him as the crow jumps onto the table and looks at the three women then it opens its beak and eerily speaks with a remarkably human voice. “Big Fight Big Fight. Guards and Wizards! Bloody Pirates! Yngvar and Alberich! Taken! Taken!”
  3. Primeval Thule - #2 Red Chains

    Alberich was clearly displeased with the idea, but the odds were against them. Still, as he put down his axes and shields, the whole thing rankled him deeply. Surrendering like that? Then again, the Northman was right. This did seem like a setup, and at least the others would know.
  4. Primeval Thule - #2 Red Chains

    Yngvar only shrugs in reply. "I dare say they know the city well. And there are likely magicks to ease journeys. Still. It's interesting that a brawl of this size attracts such attention. I'm beginning to suspect someone may have been setting us up." He carefully lays his axe on a table beside him. Careful to not make any sudden moves. Mentally he reaches out to his familiar, perched on a roof across the way, among a murder of crows. With a mental command, he sends it winging away in search of the rest of the party, the small disk with Yngvars rune glinting briefly in the light from where it was tied to it's leg. It could mimic speech well enough to get the gist of the situation across, though it would not speak till privacy was acquired. "Regardless, assaulting this many guards would be folly, so cooperation is our best option for now." In a lower tone, pitched so just Albereich would hear it "I've sent word to the others."
  5. Primeval Thule - #2 Red Chains

    Aridha released the breath she'd been holding...not so much out of tension, but to make sure no sound could possibly intrude on what the old sage was saying, that not a breath would confuse a word in her ears. She closed her eyes for a long moment then nodded and opened them again. "Do this, and I will repay you," she promised. "Whatever you may want, that I can do."
  6. Primeval Thule - #2 Red Chains

    Alberich steps up beside Yngvar and began to growl a reply when the Northman laid a bloody hand on his arm. "Calm yourself friend, there are more outside and they have wizardry." The Dwaf looks beyond those standing before him and saw what his taller companion saw, more men at least a companies worth and two robed in heavy cloth a man and a woman one with fire in her hands the other with lightning playing about the head of the long staff he bore. "Bloody hell! By Nergal's balls where did they all come from?"
  7. Primeval Thule - #2 Red Chains

    Noble paused and considered. The Halfling was incredibly passionate about Stagg he must have done her some great wrong. The other two were Dhari and unaccustomed to civilization and so there manners should be overlooked. But his should not. "Please let us sit it will take some time before my agents report back about this Leafstan.When they do I will ask about Butcher, there are those who may have information on his whereabouts." The women sit and he pours them wine then sits himself facing them. "Forgive my curtness earlier, it is not often I receive requests from strangers, and here in Marg one must be wary. Still I was rude and I should know better. If the slave is here and alive my agents should locate him easily enough even with them not knowing his name." He smiles and shrugs. "But I can see that while you know what you wish to do to the Butcher, you do not know anything about him, so I will endeavor to enlighten a little with what I know or have heard. The man, if he is a man, called Odass Stagg is said to be an Atlantean, not one of those descended from colonists but a true Atlantean. As his story goes he came here to Thule from Atlantis over a hundred years before the sinking of the great island. He was an explorer and traveled a great deal into the wildernesses of this violent continent. Over the course of time he developed a powerful reputation, if not legend as a great adventurer until he vanished in the far north where there is naught but snow and ice. And so his history ends until about 20 years ago. A man, masked in an elaborate helm, led and army of barbarians out of the north into Jhi Anool, slaughtering everything in their path. They reached the gates of Maj Keili and demanded the surrender of Rhan Sha, the most sacred of the Rhakshsha treasures. This man named himself Odass Stagg. He laid siege to the Rhakshsha city for several months as the tale goes before abandoning the attack and returning to the wastes of the north. It was only after they had gone that it was discovered that the artifact was missing. Over the years this man has repeatably sallied from some unknown haven in the glaciers to lead bloody raids on southern peoples and city states. His goal is always driven by desire to posses artifacts of the former great powers, the Elves, the Atlanteans and older darker things. He himself is a warrior and a sorcerer, his armies are either made of strange barbarians who speak no language known to scholars or they are monstrous fiends brought back from death by his foul necromancy. When he come this far south he usually leads a force of mercenaries made up of many different land. It is hard to know what is true and what is legend or even if it is the same man. While I have seen him at the arena during his visits here he has always been masked and cloaked even in our oppressive heat. I know of no one who has seen his real face. If this is the man you intend to wreck vengeance upon little one, then indeed you have a mighty task set before you. Wisdom tells me that I should dissuade you of this course, but my heart says different. I will find out what I can for you.”
  8. Primeval Thule - #2 Red Chains

    Tharra took a step back so she could look down in some surprise at the tiny halfling pass a chest thick with muscle and bosom. Fierce she knew the halfling to be, her tone was cold with hate and promise as she replied she would kill this Odass Stagg. Tharra had not known Aridha had another reason to come to Marg, and she did not miss how Nobel Freeman grew still at the name of Odass Stagg. "I am as Dhari as my Tribemate," Tharra rumbled firmly. Though her Elven heritage was readily evident, she had always believed her great size and strength to be a gift from the Forest Gods, but for all that, she was Dhari through and through. "And yes, tell us more of the Odass Stagg, or learn more and we will pay you more krakens... after you have found the slave we are looking for." Not seeing on how it would matter now, she added, "He is called Leafstan."
  9. Primeval Thule - #2 Red Chains

    "I'm going to kill him," Aridha says evenly, eying Nobel with interest. "That is the only business I will have with such as him. I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that the people here would prefer to entertain him, even knowing what he is." She looks at the tip of her spear and reaches out to test the point. "But now I know...he comes here." The tiny Dhari gives Nobel a nod. "What else can you tell me? What powers is he known to have? Who are his friends, and enemies?"
  10. Primeval Thule - #2 Red Chains

    Neeva's eyes narrowed at her heritage being being questioned. "I am Neeva of the Katjaa. Tharra is my tribemate. I was trained by the wise woman to be a Talespinner and then the Forest Gods began sending me omens and signs, allowing me to foretell the future. So I became a soothsayer of my tribe as well, which has led me from the Dharh Mesh to here. And you, Nobel Freeman, would do well to not question my heritage again, for I am Dhari as sure as your blood is red." Neeva said darkly. She then took a breath and relaxed somewhat. "We came to you in good will. Please do not ruin that." she added as she relaxed a bit more.
  11. Primeval Thule - #2 Red Chains

    In The Tavern Yngvar was looking to be a bit under pressure, so Alberich stopped playing around with these slobs. Three on him, two on the Northman and him bleeding. The dwarf reduced that number by a third, whipping the bluend of the mace-axe into a skull, before slamming his shield out into the chest of a second man. That one probably had it worse, his ribs smashed inward. Yngvar silently snarls in pain, one hand clamped automatically to the wound in his side. It would be so easy. Just one word and he could turn both of these wretches to twitching corpses. But it would announce to all and sundry their presence. Wizards were viewed with suspicion virtually everywhere and throwing around magic was one of the fastest ways to cause a panicked riot. He draws his hand away from his side, it had only been there a fraction of a second, but was already liberally coated. He scowls fiercely at the apparent leader of the group, the one egging them on, and throws out his hand, flicking a stream of ruby droplets into the mans eyes. In the brief flinch that follows, he grasps his axe in a heavy two handed stance, bringing it down in the juncture of the mans neck, burying the head almost to the hilt in his chest. Pulling it out with a grunt and a wet squelch, he turns to his last opponent. "Last Chance. On. Your. Knees." That fight was over almost before it started . The Thugs lay scattered and bleeding on the ground the remaining ones unhurt dropped their weapons and did as Yngvar order. As the last one knelt the doors exploded inward and armed soldiers sporting the garish panoply of the cities Scarlet Slayers, the ruthless armed protectors of the wealthy merchants and slavers, poured into the room arms at the ready to face our heroes. A gruff voice called out from outside. “Throw down your arms you are under arrest by the authority of the Crimson Council!” At the Fortune Tellers shop Nobel froze as the name left the halflings lips, he didn't even hear what else she said. “Shh.” he hissed “Don't say that name lest you call the devil himself to take our heads.” The older man again quickly checks the shutters and peers outside before coming back to them. “Stranger and Stranger this day is becoming. First find a slave whose name you are reluctant to give then you casually ask after the vilest sorcerer in all of Thule. Women, a halfling and a part elf with some giant in there for good measure and what about you young woman," he eyes Neeva, "are you really Dhari or do you hide some otherworldly connection as well?” He makes a warding sign and looks back at Aridha. “Aye, the beast comes to Marg often and is entertained by the council, usually with slave woman and the arena, no expense is spared. The council fears him and so should you. What business do you have with such?”
  12. To Hit [Kaoleth] 1:51 am: Ah. Kaoleth *rolls* 1d20: 10: 10 [Noir] 1:52 am: I think that is a total of +7 for you [Kaoleth] 1:52 am: Yeah. [Noir] 1:52 am: so 17 [Kaoleth] 1:52 am: So 17 all told. Damage Kaoleth *rolls* 1d10: 8+4: 12 [Noir] 1:58 am: for love level people, 12 is a probably a huge portion of their hit points at least Yngvar silently snarls in pain, one hand clamped automatically to the wound in his side. It would be so easy. Just one word and he could turn both of these wretches to twitching corpses. But it would announce to all and sundry their presence. Wizards were viewed with suspicion virtually everywhere and throwing around magic was one of the fastest ways to cause a panicked riot. He draws his hand away from his side, it had only been there a fraction of a second, but was already liberally coated. He scowls fiercely at the apparent leader of the group, the one egging them on, and throws out his hand, flicking a stream of ruby droplets into the mans eyes. In the brief flinch that follows, he frasps his axe in a heavy two handed stance, bringing it down in the juncture of the mans neck, burying the head almost to the hilt in his chest. Pulling it out with a grunt and a wet squelch, he turns to his last opponent. "Last Chance. On. Your. Knees."
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