After a break from March 2009 through June 2010, Rembaldi has made its triumphant return! I'm glad it's back - it's easily my favorite game I've ever run. The sheer amount of work I've put into the world boggles the mind. I've been going back through my notes and remembering just how complicated some of the plots were. There are entire pages in my notebook devoted to plotlines that only got the breifest of mentions in the posts. But who knows if they'll come back front and center sometime further down the road? In one of the recent threads, I reintroduced a character that was first seen in the Prolouge, and was last mentioned back in February 2007.
I've got a great group of characters, a solid core of players, and plenty of story to tell. I have people fighting two defensive battles against the orcs while a third player rushes in with an army to try to break the sieges. I have people betraying each other, trying to figure out how best to bring about a beneficial situation. I have bounty hunters, elven legendary heroes, and basic run-of-the-mill soldiers. And a group of villains ready to strike wherever they get a chance. Looking forward to seeing how it goes.
Showing posts with label Rembaldi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rembaldi. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Artos Viros, Monastic Knight, Marshall of Ragadorn
Last night I was chatting with Dan, Laura and Josh at my place, and we ended up talking about the old Rembaldi play-by-email game that ran so long ago. Good times were had by all. Dan and I excitedly told Josh about the Seven, the battle with Mourne at the Tree of Shim Shea, the revelation that Mindbane inhabited the body of a Dragon, much to the surprise of the other Seven as well. We talked about Rembaldi's prophecies, the release of the stone prisons, and, of course, the death of Artos Viros. Most people I talk to about the game remember that particular moment as one of the best in the game. I figured it'd be fitting to repost that particular entry.
To set the stage, Artos Viros (a character played by Adam) was an old man, formerly a paladin of the Monastic Knights. During a rebellion, the heir to the kingdom was entrusted to his care. He fled into the night just before the army was betrayed and defeated. Everyone assumed the heir had died, and the empire fractured into several kingdoms. Artos raised the heir as his son and when the time was right, let him know who he was. He left it to his son to decide whether he would attempt to unite the kingdoms or live his life as he wished. For Artos, it was time to retire and live in peace.
Later, of course, things did not go as he had hoped. Orcs invaded and Artos found himself defending one of the Golden Cities, Ragadorn, against the advance. The orcs won the day but the battle for the city continued within the streets. Artos, who had been named a Marshall of Ragadorn, a protector of the city, led one of the many small groups to fight against the orcs and make them pay for the ground they gained.
Several men, including Carencious Mite, betrayed the city and essentially turned it over to the orcs. Artos Viros and Carencious Mite had a lengthy history, and both hated the other.
Artos and his men decided to stage a jailbreak and try to release the prisoners the orcs had taken. During the battle, Artos found an honorable and powerful orc, Dier'dakk, who sided with him, wishing to expunge the dishonored poison of Carencious Mite. As the jailbreak continued, Artos Viros spotted Carencious Mite and took off after him. Dier'dakk followed. But the passageway was too narrow for an armored orc to pass through, so Dier'dakk had to find another way around while Artos chased Mite and eventually confronted him in a room. And that's where we are...
~~~
Artos stepped back, finding room to breathe for himself. Carencious Mite was a good swordsman, there was no doubt of that. But Dier'Dakk was a far better fighter than either Mite or Artos. The old man just needed to delay Mite long enough for Dier'Dakk to arrive and finish this.
Carencious Mite slashed down at Artos again. The old knight didn't have the strength left in him to step aside. He barely raised the shield in time. The reverberations of the sword jolted through his arm. Mite raised his sword and hacked again, and again! Artos stumbled backwards under the force, trying to will his own sword arm
to press an attack… anything to stop Mite's own advance! Finally, under another swing, the shield straps gave under the stress and the metal plate fell useless to the floor. Artos stumbled backwards and slammed against the wall. A fire burned through his arm and it refused to allow him to raise his sword against Mite.
"Now this is how I always imagined the end to come," Mite said as he stepped forward with a wicked grin. "Ragadorn's hopeless defense rests on the shoulders of one old man. What was the old saying of Ragadorn's Marshalls? `Not While We Live'?" He chuckled. "Well, don't worry, old man. It won't be."
Artos only partially listened to Mite's words. His eyes kept looking tired towards the door that he knew any moment Dier'Dakk would come through. Mite had his back to the door now. If the orc came through, Mite would be prone to the attack. He'd be cut in two, and Mite's attacks would stop.
But the door still didn't open.
Mite set his stance for a final strike, one that would end Artos. The old man summoned his strength and lunged forward, weaponless, kicking hard against the wall behind him. He caught Mite square in the chest with his shoulder and knocked the young general back a few steps. Mite dropped his sword, but held on to his knife.
Re-energized, Artos swung his own sword. Now with the advantage of reach, perhaps he could take Mite down himself! The traitor jumped back, but not fast enough. The sword opened a red line across his unarmored chest. Mite hissed in anger and stumbled back. Artos pressed the attack, slashing again, but Mite had recovered his own sword. Mite deflected Artos' swing with his knife, then lunged forward with speed and precision.
It didn't hurt, at first. Artos looked up at Mite, mere inches from his own face, then down at the sword, sheathed in his own chest. Artos dropped his sword, his hand weakened, and stumbled backwards to the ground.
Mite put his hand to his own chest and pulled it away, revealing blood. "You got one good cut in, old man. I'll give you that. Bought yourself a slow death, though." Mite walked over Artos' prone body, took the sword still in the old man's chest, and pulled it out. Artos grunted, but would not give Mite the satisfaction of a scream. He doubted he could if he wanted to.
On his back, his eyes began to wander. Mite was standing over him, talking, but the words were not reaching his ears. What was he talking about? Another of his speeches, no doubt, about how he was the better. His eyes wandered to the walls. What room was he in? On the far wall was raised the Ankh of the One God. His symbol, and the strength of the Monastic Knights. Afar was an altar raised on a platform. A tear started to form in the corner of Artos' eyes. On the ceiling was a mural of a clouded sky with a single break in the clouds. A bright light, a pure light, shone through, blinding him. Here, in a church of the One God, a good man lay on his back, his life bleeding out of him. And an evil man stood in triumph. Artos looked towards the door, panic in his eyes. It was still closed.
Artos summoned his strength, what little there was, but the light above him infused his body with feeling. He pushed himself back to his feet, somehow, kicking strong up with his legs and rushing directly towards his enemy. Mite, not expecting any action from the man with a hole in his body, was caught square in the chest. The two went sprawling to the floor, both swords out of reach.
"Some life left to you after all," Mite bit. He kicked Artos from the ground, knocking the old man on his back, then jumped on top of him. `The knife,' Artos' thoughts screamed to him. `Where's the knife!' Mite held it firmly in his right hand, currently set against Artos' left arm. Twisting, the two crashed on the ground, Artos under Carencious Mite. Mite tried to take the knife up under Artos' armpit, where his armor afforded no protection. Artos stuck both his hands against his enemy, pushing back with all his might.
On most days, Carencious Mite was a stronger man, but not this day. Not in this room. Not with the One God watching over Artos. Slowly, the blade turned from Artos' direction towards Mite. The blade moved, ever so slowly, towards Mite's chest. His eyes widened as he saw he was losing the contest.
He pulled his head back and smashed his forehead against Artos' face. Artos felt his nose break, and his cheek crack. Blood filled his mouth, but he did not release. A second smash and the bone around his eye shattered. A third, and he swallowed teeth, but still he did not let up.
Mite felt the knife prick his skin. As if it could help, he pulled his body in as odd a contortion as he could, pulling away from the knife as much as his bones would allow. It did no good. The knife touched skin again, and then he felt the agonizing pain of the small wound slowly widening as the knife drove deeper and deeper into his skin. Artos, with the care and precision of a gemcarver, twisted the blade slightly, one direction, then the other. Artos' arms began to shake as his wounds were catching up to him, but Mite was fairing just as bad. Blood poured out of Mite's heart onto Artos' chest. Mite's elbows buckled under the strain and the knife plunged deep into his the traitor's body. Mite's eyes widened as Artos pulled the knife out and thrust it into his heart again. A spit of blood erupted from Mite's mouth. Artos pushed Mite's body off him with the last of his strength.
The Monastic Knight, Marshall of Ragadorn, felt his life flowing out of him. He could not stand anymore. Could not feel his legs. Or his arms. A tear formed in his one good eye, and the light from the One God finally called Artos home.
…Artos FINIS…
To set the stage, Artos Viros (a character played by Adam) was an old man, formerly a paladin of the Monastic Knights. During a rebellion, the heir to the kingdom was entrusted to his care. He fled into the night just before the army was betrayed and defeated. Everyone assumed the heir had died, and the empire fractured into several kingdoms. Artos raised the heir as his son and when the time was right, let him know who he was. He left it to his son to decide whether he would attempt to unite the kingdoms or live his life as he wished. For Artos, it was time to retire and live in peace.
Later, of course, things did not go as he had hoped. Orcs invaded and Artos found himself defending one of the Golden Cities, Ragadorn, against the advance. The orcs won the day but the battle for the city continued within the streets. Artos, who had been named a Marshall of Ragadorn, a protector of the city, led one of the many small groups to fight against the orcs and make them pay for the ground they gained.
Several men, including Carencious Mite, betrayed the city and essentially turned it over to the orcs. Artos Viros and Carencious Mite had a lengthy history, and both hated the other.
Artos and his men decided to stage a jailbreak and try to release the prisoners the orcs had taken. During the battle, Artos found an honorable and powerful orc, Dier'dakk, who sided with him, wishing to expunge the dishonored poison of Carencious Mite. As the jailbreak continued, Artos Viros spotted Carencious Mite and took off after him. Dier'dakk followed. But the passageway was too narrow for an armored orc to pass through, so Dier'dakk had to find another way around while Artos chased Mite and eventually confronted him in a room. And that's where we are...
~~~
Artos stepped back, finding room to breathe for himself. Carencious Mite was a good swordsman, there was no doubt of that. But Dier'Dakk was a far better fighter than either Mite or Artos. The old man just needed to delay Mite long enough for Dier'Dakk to arrive and finish this.
Carencious Mite slashed down at Artos again. The old knight didn't have the strength left in him to step aside. He barely raised the shield in time. The reverberations of the sword jolted through his arm. Mite raised his sword and hacked again, and again! Artos stumbled backwards under the force, trying to will his own sword arm
to press an attack… anything to stop Mite's own advance! Finally, under another swing, the shield straps gave under the stress and the metal plate fell useless to the floor. Artos stumbled backwards and slammed against the wall. A fire burned through his arm and it refused to allow him to raise his sword against Mite.
"Now this is how I always imagined the end to come," Mite said as he stepped forward with a wicked grin. "Ragadorn's hopeless defense rests on the shoulders of one old man. What was the old saying of Ragadorn's Marshalls? `Not While We Live'?" He chuckled. "Well, don't worry, old man. It won't be."
Artos only partially listened to Mite's words. His eyes kept looking tired towards the door that he knew any moment Dier'Dakk would come through. Mite had his back to the door now. If the orc came through, Mite would be prone to the attack. He'd be cut in two, and Mite's attacks would stop.
But the door still didn't open.
Mite set his stance for a final strike, one that would end Artos. The old man summoned his strength and lunged forward, weaponless, kicking hard against the wall behind him. He caught Mite square in the chest with his shoulder and knocked the young general back a few steps. Mite dropped his sword, but held on to his knife.
Re-energized, Artos swung his own sword. Now with the advantage of reach, perhaps he could take Mite down himself! The traitor jumped back, but not fast enough. The sword opened a red line across his unarmored chest. Mite hissed in anger and stumbled back. Artos pressed the attack, slashing again, but Mite had recovered his own sword. Mite deflected Artos' swing with his knife, then lunged forward with speed and precision.
It didn't hurt, at first. Artos looked up at Mite, mere inches from his own face, then down at the sword, sheathed in his own chest. Artos dropped his sword, his hand weakened, and stumbled backwards to the ground.
Mite put his hand to his own chest and pulled it away, revealing blood. "You got one good cut in, old man. I'll give you that. Bought yourself a slow death, though." Mite walked over Artos' prone body, took the sword still in the old man's chest, and pulled it out. Artos grunted, but would not give Mite the satisfaction of a scream. He doubted he could if he wanted to.
On his back, his eyes began to wander. Mite was standing over him, talking, but the words were not reaching his ears. What was he talking about? Another of his speeches, no doubt, about how he was the better. His eyes wandered to the walls. What room was he in? On the far wall was raised the Ankh of the One God. His symbol, and the strength of the Monastic Knights. Afar was an altar raised on a platform. A tear started to form in the corner of Artos' eyes. On the ceiling was a mural of a clouded sky with a single break in the clouds. A bright light, a pure light, shone through, blinding him. Here, in a church of the One God, a good man lay on his back, his life bleeding out of him. And an evil man stood in triumph. Artos looked towards the door, panic in his eyes. It was still closed.
Artos summoned his strength, what little there was, but the light above him infused his body with feeling. He pushed himself back to his feet, somehow, kicking strong up with his legs and rushing directly towards his enemy. Mite, not expecting any action from the man with a hole in his body, was caught square in the chest. The two went sprawling to the floor, both swords out of reach.
"Some life left to you after all," Mite bit. He kicked Artos from the ground, knocking the old man on his back, then jumped on top of him. `The knife,' Artos' thoughts screamed to him. `Where's the knife!' Mite held it firmly in his right hand, currently set against Artos' left arm. Twisting, the two crashed on the ground, Artos under Carencious Mite. Mite tried to take the knife up under Artos' armpit, where his armor afforded no protection. Artos stuck both his hands against his enemy, pushing back with all his might.
On most days, Carencious Mite was a stronger man, but not this day. Not in this room. Not with the One God watching over Artos. Slowly, the blade turned from Artos' direction towards Mite. The blade moved, ever so slowly, towards Mite's chest. His eyes widened as he saw he was losing the contest.
He pulled his head back and smashed his forehead against Artos' face. Artos felt his nose break, and his cheek crack. Blood filled his mouth, but he did not release. A second smash and the bone around his eye shattered. A third, and he swallowed teeth, but still he did not let up.
Mite felt the knife prick his skin. As if it could help, he pulled his body in as odd a contortion as he could, pulling away from the knife as much as his bones would allow. It did no good. The knife touched skin again, and then he felt the agonizing pain of the small wound slowly widening as the knife drove deeper and deeper into his skin. Artos, with the care and precision of a gemcarver, twisted the blade slightly, one direction, then the other. Artos' arms began to shake as his wounds were catching up to him, but Mite was fairing just as bad. Blood poured out of Mite's heart onto Artos' chest. Mite's elbows buckled under the strain and the knife plunged deep into his the traitor's body. Mite's eyes widened as Artos pulled the knife out and thrust it into his heart again. A spit of blood erupted from Mite's mouth. Artos pushed Mite's body off him with the last of his strength.
The Monastic Knight, Marshall of Ragadorn, felt his life flowing out of him. He could not stand anymore. Could not feel his legs. Or his arms. A tear formed in his one good eye, and the light from the One God finally called Artos home.
…Artos FINIS…
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