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Worldbuilder #3 - Flint, a Colonial City
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First-There is a mountainous section of the map I created.
Second-I don't really see an "official" world map for this Worldbuilder. If there is one, then I'll use that one, but, well, there isn't. (As far as I'm concerned) (And yes, I am aware of the city map that exists, I'm talking about the entire world one here).
Third-If there isn't an official map, then yes, I will add the stereotypical black mana source biome to the map.
I just like having a convenient map ready (one that shows the entire world), that's all.
No problem, I agree as it's a nice idea.
Main focus: A battlemage is fighting for his life against an Elder Dragon, surrounded by the corpses of fallen combatants.
It was Iluz’s curiosity that prompted him to sign up to the expedition. The recruiter told them that the treasure hunting party was going to use an ancient teleportation artifact to send themselves to a distant world - and teleportation intrigued Iluz immensely. Too bad the recruiter didn't mention the dragon.
Once more, Chromium Rhuell blasted the battlefield, this time with death magic. Iluz held the legendary, enchanted shield he had been given by the Dwarven artificer high to cover his face with his right hand. Would the wards engraved in it be enough to save him this time? – the ancient swords hadn’t worked as he had envisioned. He could feel the shield beginning to fail against the force of the assault. Quickly, Iluz cast a spell to copy the shield, moments before it broke, replicating the shield’s presence in his left hand. It was surprisingly easy to cast the spell - at least the magic was strong on this plane.
“Oooh, a mage that can copy artifacts”, taunted Chromium the dragon, with heavy sarcasm. “Pity your fellow warriors did not have that talent. They may not have died so quickly if they were more… shall we say, qualified?” Chromium laughed. Who in the multiverse was this dragon? Iluz had never seen a being so proficient in magic. And what to cast next? Giant Growth himself? Holy Strength? Those spells weren’t going to be enough. A volley of fireballs launched from Iluz’s unencumbered hand towards Chromium.
It was then the dragon’s tail slashed Iluz from behind, flipping him into the air, landing him on his back. Again, Chromium laughed, as he pressed down his huge clawed foot onto Iluz’s chest; the conjured shield shattering. Iluz screamed from the pressure, as his fireballs exploded harmlessly far into distance, illuminating the night sky.
“Ah, fireworks for my victory! You have lost battle-mage. It is a pity that one as talented as you came here looking to fight me – now your abilities will die with you. What is your name?” demanded Chromium.
A whimpering sound escaped from the mage. “Iluz”.
“And how many legendary trinkets did you lose trying to defeat me?" inquired Chromium, pressing harder.
“Seven” Iluz croaked, barely able to breathe.
A wicked grim appeared on Chromium’s face. “Well now, ‘Iluz, Bane of Legends’, as you are the only fool left here and have given me an evening’s 'entertainment', I will now give you a reward...."
Something deep inside Iluz told him that he was NOT going to enjoy this.
Chromium continued: "...I will complete your education of the magical arts! Think of it as my ‘gift’ to you. I sense you have no ability with the darkest magic – let us ‘remedy’ that.” Chromium’s claws tightened around Iluz’s chest, and all at once, Iluz could feel the black magic seeping from Chromium's claws into his chest, tainting his entire being. He had to get out of there! The pain, the sensation of darkness clouding his mind, and the exhaustion began to consume Iluz. What was mere seconds seemed like an eternity of pain as the black mana continued to corrupt him.
Desperately, Iluz tried to focus on anything that lessened his suffering, but all that came to mind was a mental image of something he had read, something from a distant memory, a page half sighted while sitting in his thinking chair at home. Iluz focused his mind on the memory, to the exclusion of all other things.
It was then, for a moment, Iluz felt more alive than he had ever been. He saw his life flash before his eyes; and then a second flash. And then he saw nothing.
Area: The present day. A wizard’s subterranean cave dwelling, deep within the caverns of the Cloudwood Mountains, protected by magical wards and concealed dooways.
Main Focus: Iluz, floating above a circle of protection in his abode, slowly descending to the ground.
“Master, wake up!”
Slowly, Iluz came to his senses and rose to his feet, eyes still hazy, body still paining. A rusty golem stood in front of him. With his eyes clearing, Iluz peered at the construct in front of him. “Clunky?”
“Yes, it is me master! Clunky, your faithful servant!” the golem proudly announced. I have prepared everything for your return from stasis master! A million thoughts ran through Iluz’s head. He had been in stasis? How had he come to be in his cave home, when before he had been fighting on Ir? So many questions… “Clunky, help me to my thinking chair. And tell me everything.”
And thus, this is how Iluz, Prodigal Mage of Cloudwood, came to understand that he had apparently planeswalked from Chromium's grip, unconsciously, to his home and how his golem, Clunky, had placed him in stasis for three centuries (or so) in order to save his life, using healing magic with a runed circle of protection.
Clunky also told Iluz of present day events, how Flint was full of legendary people and precious, legendary, items, but despite this, was still burdened by strife and suspicion.
“Who are these legends?” asked Iluz. “What does the Journal of Prophecy say about them?” The Journal of Prophecy was Iluz’s oldest artefact, part of a vast collection of legendary items he owned. The Journal was also, in Iluz’s opinion, horribly cursed and usually unreadable, and so, there was a strained relationship between the living book and talented mage. But when the Journal of Prophecy was correct (or rather, when she saw fit to share her information with Iluz), the predictions she made were invaluable. Indeed, Journal had given Clunky instructions how to save Iluz's life from the wounds inflicted by Chromium.
"Journal has been very clear in her meaning recently", Clunky stated. “She has told me about six of the legends: Ker'nan, Ivana, Dalthor, Anosa, Derrick, and Tivi. As well, she predicts there will be a meeting between them all within 14 moons time - an accidental, unplanned event at The Nettles”.
"Are you sure they *are* all legends, Clunky?" Iluz asked.
"You can read her yourself to check - she is your book" Clunky replied.
"I'll read her later" responded Iluz. Pausing for a moment, Iluz asked another question. "What else has Journal been writing about?"
“Then there is mention of this magical tome, something called the ‘Tome of Elemental Mastery’ – probably a cookbook for ogres, if you ask me. Nothing anywhere near as classy as Journal". ‘Well, even ogres have to eat’, Iluz thought to himself.
Clunky continued. “Also, she’s been writing warnings about this ritual which creates an enchantment. A ritual called ‘The Second Rite of Garma’; although with that one I think the journal is telling stories again. Such a jester, that book. I don’t know why Journal doesn’t like you – she likes me. She only seems to help you when you get beaten up. Do you remember that time you told Journal that you were going to tear her up, because you were so angry with her? Journal pranked us good that time. Beebles, beebles everywhere!”
"Did you say, “The Second Rite of Garma’ Clunky?" Iluz asked, gravely.
“Oh, yes”, Clunky replied.
“I have to go.” Iluz said. “But there is still more to do to heal your wounds properly master!” Clunky protested. “Black mana still clings to your life-force! The lay of the land has changed - you don't know the way! And there is still much more to tell you! A drago…”
Cutting him off, Iluz spoke: “This cannot wait Clunky.” And with that Iluz, Bane of Legends left his home for The Nettles.
Area: The orc village, probably during the night or something.
Focus: Rhuell's plot to conquer Hathalborn.
Story: The dragon's wings came to a stop. Rhuell had arrived in the orchish village. Nearby, one of the villagers was cradling a crying child.
"Who, heh, are you exactly?' said the villager.
"I am Rhuell, descendant of the Elder Dragon Chromium Rhuell"
"And why are you here? Can't you see that we are in the middle of a, uh, tense situation?
"And what would that situation be?"
The orcish child explained what had happened.
By now, about twenty orcs had gathered in the village square to watch.
"So, do you lust for revenge?" spoke Rhuell.
"What's revenge?"
"It's when you want to do to others what they did to you."
"Yeah, I guess"
"Will you, being the new ruler of this settlement, give me some help in exchange for some of my almost unlimited power?" spoke Rhuell.
"Um... maybe?"
"Great!"
All of a sudden, a burst of blue magic erupted from Rhuell's staff. The aura surrounded the child, creating a blindingly bright light. In just a few moments, a large and very muscular orc stood where the child had just been.
"By my ancient magic, you are now Bloodcrest, champion of the orcs, and, uh, let's just say my ... personal assistant"
"So, well, what will my new strength do, and what do you need help with?" said Bloodcrest.
"First, you now have the magical strength of five grand wizards combined, and are able to do just about anything with that power, as long as it doesn't harm me, of course, and..."
Rhuell held our a map of Hathalborn.
"See that giant red bloodsta-I mean paint splotch on the map there?"
"Yeah"
"I want you and your village to help me build a fortress there. The likes of which this puny world has never seen"
This exchange continued for several minutes more, with just about the entire village watching at this point. Long story short, the dragon got Bloodcrest and his new minions to start helping him build a giant fortress, about the same size as Flint Bay. And yes, Bloodcrest is the same orc as Superman101's Young Orc. And no, Dalthu did not watch this.
nothing to see here
I feel these challenges live and die based on the creator's support. As such I hoped KJMartin would make more posts earlier on.
I can see another in the future. But we might want to decide on a map and prizes earlier to make it successful.
Makes sense...
Hmm...
Maybe someone could do an "at" message at KJMartin to, you know, do something?
That's a maybe, of course.
Rhuell, not content with just establishing dominion over the West, sent Bloodcrest to raze Flint to the the ground. None were prepared for the sudden assault of the orcs. The city militia fought a quick and bloody battle, but were eradicated. Tivi and her brother Ker'Nan, although detesting the immigrants, recognized the threat that Rhuell and Bloodcrest posed. Dalthor, having tried to reason with the orcs, had been slain. Derrick and Ivana were still missing. Dariad was frightened. His master had not communicated with him since Ruhell had began his fortress. Torq was at a loss. His daughter was gone, she could be dead! Even the merfolk, the most intelligent race in the west, had disappeared into the waves. Everything was in disarray.
Iluz watched the carnage from afar. Shaking his head sadly, he turned to Clunky.
"The missionary is dead. Journal's prophecy can no longer come true. What to do?"
Clunky sighed, a metallic, grinding sound. "We gotta get rid of Rhuell, master. He is the spawn of Chromium. He will surely spell Armageddon for us all."
Iluz shook his head once more.
"If he is even a shred as powerful as his father, we will not stand a chance. Better to leave this fight to the inhabitants of the plane. No legends here are powerful enough for me to challenge."
Focus: Everything (just read to know why)
A man sat at the top of one of the guard towers of the city, behind him the ocean looked like a black mirror, reflecting the fires that raged in the city of Flint. However, despite all the commotion, the man seemed to be thinking deeply about what his next move would be in the game he was playing.
Calmly, the man's inhumanly cold fingers slowly clutched around one of the pawns on the board in front of him, sliding it silently to another place on the board.
"Using the Orcs to attack Flint, very interesting move," The man chuckled a bit and touched a pawn of another color, sliding it over the board as well. "The Governor's daughter has nearly reached her goal, another good move made by fate."
Standing up, the man looked at the burning city, noticing the remainder of the guards doing their best to at least keep the governor's mansion safe at all costs, while men, women and children ran for their lives, screaming in agony and despair. the sound of it all made the man smile, his cold eyes reflecting the death and destruction that went on below his feet. "So much chaos, so much fear. Rhuell has truly outdone himself."
Turning around again, the man slid another piece accross the board, letting out a long sigh. The game had nearly reached its climax, the plane was almost drenched by blood and tears, with the Merfolk secluding themselves to gain safety, the natives probably now realizing that Flint wasn't their biggest problem and the Dragon and his new minions probably thinking that they'd had gained a foothold on this plane by their own volition.
Oh, how foolish were all these mortal pawns, how feeble were they truly in the face of a being that was far beyond the grasp of their insignificant minds.
Slowly the man's hand clasped around a piece in the form of a knight and watched with a satisfied grin as the piece crumbled to dust. Flint had lost a strong pawn, Dalthor was dead, which was a bonus after all.
"Now, Dariad must be at the brink of madness, knowing that all his schemes have failed," The man laughed, placing his hand against his face, while his eyes seemed to glisten with an unnatural and unholy darkness. "Perhaps he'll be willing to serve me more actively now, in a form of my choosing and my liking. Yes, I think that will be perfect, the final piece needs to be prepared to fully enter the game... this will be so amusing."
Focus: The real antagonist/mastermind (a vampire planeswalker named Tsana) makes an appearance.
http://mtgcardsmith.com/view/tsana-of-the-morbid-song
Part One:
The wind howled in the twisted branches of a secluded copse of dead, twisted trees just outside the boundaries of Flint. Trademaster Dariad stepped nervously into the dark glade. He looked back at the flaming ruins of the nearest part of Flint, which had been hit hardest by the attack, and shivered. Turning his gaze back into the clearing, he jumped.
A cloaked and hooded figure leaned against one of the trees int the glade. Pulling down its cowl with long, slender fingers, it revealed a pale, bloodless face and dark red hair. Hair the color of blood.
The figure spoke in a deep, mellifluous voice. "Feeling some doubts?" the vampire asked Dariad. "Feeling sorry for your mortal friends?"
"Of course not, master," replied Dariad in a voice that quavered slightly in fear, despite his best attempts to control it. The being before him had lived for millennia, had witnessed unimaginable wonders and horrors, had taken as many lives as hairs on his head, and then some.
Tsana cocked an eyebrow. "I sense some... undesirable thoughts. Perhaps you'd like to end our little agreement?" He raised a hand, and the wind's howls became screams, like a thousand people being tortured to death were venting their agony in Dariad's ears. The Trademaster flinched and fell to his knees. Tsana took a step forward and took Dariad's chin in his pale fingers and lifted it so that their eyes met. Deep into the vampire's gaze Dariad stared. He saw darkness. He saw death. He saw the faces of people making the screams that tortured his very soul. The dark in the pupils of those terrible eyes seemed to spiral out until they enveloped his being in a whirlwind of despair. He wanted to scream in terror, to run, to hide, to cower on the ground and beg for mercy, but he could not move, could not speak, could not look away.
The vampire's long nails dug into the soft skin of Dariad's neck. A drop of blood rolled down to his collar, and a slender finger caught it. Tsana released the Trademaster and licked the blood off of the tip of his finger. His perfect white teeth shone in the moonlight for an instant. Dariad dropped to the ground and whimpered as the haunting echoes of screams tore at his sanity.
The vampire began to change. His face stretched and became darker. His hands fleshed out and his fingers shortened. His hair changed to a dark brown, perfectly cultivated. Within seconds, an astonished and terrified Dariad was staring at himself.
"I'm sorry, Dariad," he heard the thing before him say in his own voice, "but your time in this game is over."
He felt familiar hands close around his throat. The last thing he saw was his own smile.
Part Two:
Out somewhere on the edge the Cloudwood, Ivana and Derrick looked at a compass as they hacked though thick underbrush.
"I thought you said the trail was due north," complained Ivana as Derrick contemplated a worn map in his hand.
"It is, but we're changing course. There's an inn that I know near here, just on the border of the forest. We need supplies and a good night's sleep."
Ivana grumbled something unintelligible and hacked at a vine with her sword.
Two hours later, the two travelers noticed that the forest was beginning to thin out. They emerged from the undergrowth onto a dirt road. They followed it to the tavern that Derrick had spoken of. It was a dingy building, dubbed "The Pigsty."
"What an accurate moniker," said Ivana jokingly.
In the main bar room were a few patrons sullenly nursing their drinks in corners. An older woman with a profound limp looked up from the bar where she was wiping mugs with a dirty rag. "Wha' c'n I do fer ya?"
Said Derrick, "We would like a room for the night and any supplies you can spare."
The woman grunted and went into the kitchen. She returned with a haversack of dried meat and fruit, along with a bread loaf of dubious freshness. The barmaid stated the price of the room and supplies, which Derrick paid for with a handful of gold coins. Ivana opened her mouth to protest the outrageous price, but was stayed by Derrick's hand on her arm.
Later, in their room, as Derrick suspended a sheet across the area to give her some privacy, Ivana asked why he had paid such an exorbitant price for such mediocre products.
"You can't fight every battle in life, Ivana. Besides, these people desperately need the money. Yes, I could have haggled, but I chose not to," replied Derrick simply.
Ivana awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of a creaking floorboard. She tried to fall back asleep, but her instincts kept her awake. It was because of this that she heard the muffled footstep of somebody stepping inside of the room. She sat bolt upright and groped for her sword as she strained her ears to hear the next movement. Suddenly, a shout came from the other side of the sheet that divided the room. Ivana jumped to her feet and tore aside the curtain to see Derrick wrestling with a black-clad figure on the floor. As she stared in shock, the man went limp. Derrick, thinking he had won, relaxed his hold, but the assailant jumped up and stabbed the other with a small blade. Derrick fell heavily to the floor. The assassin turned and pulled out a small crossbow, loaded and pointed straight at her heart, before she could react. Ivana wondered briefly what it would feel like to die. Suddenly, the attacker grunted, dropped his crossbow, and fell to the ground. A man in a light green tunic took his place, lighting a candle with one hand as he wiped a sword blade of the clothes of the dead attacker.
Ivana leveled her sword at him, but he sheathed his and held up his hands. "I'm a friend," he said in a soft, clear voice that contrasted startlingly with the ragged stubble on his chin, and his heavy build.
Ivana looked at him for a moment, then decided to trust him, at least for now. She rushed to Derrick's side. He surprised her by sitting up with a groan. "You're alive, she said, elated.
"You sound surprised," he replied, then fainted. For the first time Ivana noticed the blood that stained the floor under him.
The stranger knelt beside Derrick and checked his pulse, then surveyed the wound by the light of his candle. "He's lost a lot of blood," he said. Taking off his cloak, he tore it into several strips and wrapped the warrior's side in them. "Move him onto the bed," he ordered. "And get some decent light in here."
Ivana lit the lantern that hung from the ceiling of the room with the stranger's candle while he tended Derrick.
"So who are you?" asked Ivana as she watched the man treat Derrick.
"My name is Calensis. I heard you were looking for a mage." He paused and surveyed her face. "More particularly, a Planeswalker."
(So Calensis is actually Tsana in disguise. Tsana is a vampire who can change to look like people who's blood he's consumed.
The assassin was Dariad's assassin, just to make sure you all caught that.)
(No sarcasm!)
Area: Between the forested area of the Nettles and the mountainside of the Cloudwoods.
Main Focus: Side Story (...of a Lil Wabbit!)
[Warning: Story Spoiler in the Card!]
(Note: Hopefully this new version delivers upon that april first day humor with delicious tales. Goodnight everyone!)
In the humble burrow around the Nettles forestry the little wabbits stood mighty in their little den. With the care of their mother the little ones we're safe. The wee lads awoke for school. (Turns out wabbits have their own high society!) But this day is to be a special day, a field trip. The class takes a stroll out of their town towards the mountainous area between their home and the Cloudwoods. On their way, the polite neighbor "Harold" greeted everyone and wished them all fun on their adventure, the laughter of this boisterous little group carrying the neighborhood on their backs. The class is now travelling outwards from their little school in the town towards the forest to examine the other wildlife which becomes more mysterious out from their town. As they walk onward their teacher "Mrs. Fae" warns the class that the further they delve the less explored the path will get and exclaims that they shouldn't stray from the path.
Now they’re leaving the booming town of wabbits, while hearing croaking noises of toads gallivanting. Our class begins nagging upon our precious Mrs. Fae, regarding the length of the trail. She foretells stories of wondrous wildlife and immense beasts with what is barely discernable as a tear, speaking of the great horned deer and the serpentine creatures of the dark woods. We now see the path become more quieted, if only for a moment. With awe the class shivers as we cross the deepened area of the trail, less explored. But our teacher accents the fact our students have nothing to fear while with her. The majority of the pack was enthralled by her tales, but not all. There was a set of four, set aside from the group with intent to explore alone!
The bundle of the most boisterous includes "Marilyn", "Winston", and the leader "Cyrise" as well as another just trying to fit in with this ostentatious crowd. They aren’t very appealed by the road most followed. Rather they divert into the vine woods and begin harassing wildlife, most of these just being birds and squirrels. Luckily, most don't bite! But they hadn’t enjoyed the company of the four, especially the named three. Moving ever so quicker into the woods that became less familiar to the group, they began discovering diverse flora and fauna. Spreading from red then blue and even unto purple, a sign of rarity as the last isn’t common in nature. But they begin seeing much larger and eerie creatures, including deer and serpentine creatures hidden among the overgrowth. Butterflies leading them towards the darkened areas of the enveloped forest, amongst its twists and turns.
Winston greets his friends for a moment recommending that they travel further into the depths of the mountainside, where light doesn’t come only from the sky but from the depths of the forest. What is surely a bad omen that the group aside from the shy follower should’ve realized? Yet, they head on whilst ignoring that shy fellow. Terrified and left alone the fellow must follow their path and share the same fate of wonder and intrigue. This region surely wasn’t safe; as such they were at the whim of smarter predators. Carelessly they travelled the overgrowth amongst the trees with Winston tripping upon the vines. The poor sod was clumsy and had been caught in a simple tangle. But the bustling leaves and fluttering birds spoke otherwise, for Winston was caught upon by a vine but a silent predator of the serpentine tongue. The foul beast lurched upon the others, catching all but Cyrise. Cyrise now on his own has to decide whether to fight bravely or flee with certainty of death. Questioning his morals he makes a slow and possibly grave mistake of inaction. Will he be punished?
How will this unfold? Will they survive? Did any of this have meaning? I'm not sure, but it was adorably nerve wrecking.
-----
(This story won't be intended to be followed through with major ties to the existing story. It's just a humorous diversion with a sense of perspective upon the existing story!)
Please comment if I should continue these tales later. As well as if this group is the heroes we deserve! XD
I wrote this one for you my friend!
...
what?
...
the?
...
fudge?
...
That went from 100 to 0 real quick.
And, uh, you do realize that Corwinnn's thing is squirrels, not rabbits, right?
Yes, I thought Corwinnn would enjoy the cuteness though. Was the second part that bad or am I reading your comment differently? If so, I'll re-design it tomorrow.
I was trying to keep it shorter than six paragraphs. But I may have made it too succinct! (If so, I'll re-design it.)
Please comment so I'm aware that it needs fixing!
Yeah...
Well, the card's fine.
The story though... um...
I have no problem with people starting a(nother) plotline. It's just...
make sure to extend it later.
It kinda has a very sudden end.
Also, don't look at me for not doing anything with any part of the story today...
Well, I kinda get my art from deviantart, and uh...
http://www.deviantart.com
Yeah. Pears everywhere.
(I'm 99% sure this is an April fools 2017 thing)
No problem, I'm not intending others follow the story as it's more of a humorous side story. (Forgot it was april fools actually! XD)
Re-wrote the entire thing. Please check it out here! (Happy April Fools. XD)
http://forums.mtgcardsmith.com/discussion/comment/70586/#Comment_70586
It's good now.
Shapeshifting vampire planeswalkers to rabbits on a field trip?????
Yep, the bunnies put it all into perspective. XD
(otherwise this just serves as a bump)