10 Rounds of Initiative: Side-Quests

Side Quests

It is well known that computer games were preceded by tabletop games and when you compare the two, the similarities are incredible. When playing tabletop RPGs the one thing that changes depending on who I am playing with is the use of side quests.

I started with the comparison of computer games and tabletop games because I grew up an avid gamer and a total sucker for a good RPG I could spend hours in front of. I would explore every avenue and delve into the lore and mechanics of the world I found myself in. I couldn't continue with the main storyline until every possible side quest was completed and I find myself doing the same thing today with games like The Witcher 3, Skyrim, Assassins Creed etc. These worlds are designed to give you the impression that they are endless visceral worlds and I believe it is the side-quests and the interaction with NPC's and backstory that make it so. 

In our tabletop worlds they end only when our imaginations falter, I love to include side-quests in my campaigns and I believe a cleverly constructed side quest doesn't have to detract from an overarching storyline; it can enrich and build upon character relationships and develop your heroes into the characters deserving of their epic tales. My question is this:

Do you use side quests?

How do you incorporate them into your game?

If not, why not?

The Rhokah: An army for Tolkien

Rhokah: Soldiers of the Dark Naw


By: M Harvey


Like most great campaigns there is a common enemy the protagonist faces on the battlefield. Below is the outline for an army the adventurers frequently come across.


The void between the realms where Diafol and his nine bide. Their army of years passed were made up from the most corrupt humans. They were minds, easily manipulated, souls easily demoralised. They lived in the Underworld of Naw, growing from the anguish and pain of the world that had been taken from them and so far gone they had come to no longer be living nor dead. The absence of light and being around the Nine changed their utter being. Six foot plus of pure lumbering muscle, there skin's as red as an open wound, scared and beaten. There fingers are longer, nimble with what appears to be claws for nails and their teeth, now small black arrow heads, sat in rows as the callously smile. Self aware, strong and supremely dangerous the armies on the Naw wait for the command of the nine.
These beasts began to form societies and later a fully functioning continent in the Naw. Through their malice they created a fully obedient army with its one goal. To destroy the world of light and remove the gods from there stature.

Foot Soldiers;
Light infantry beasts. Crude swords and shields but well armed. The most abundant in the Rhokah armies but not at all an easy fight. Iron armour forged to fit the joints. It's heavily spiked as further protection as well but being so heavily armoured means that they can tear through lines of men before being bought down.
Equipment:
Maces
Crude Swords
Iron Armour
Iron Shield/Buckler



Knights:
Bearing huge great shields, double handed weapons or even armed wielding two weapons, these armour clad behemoths are not a force to be reckoned with. Known for their size and strength, sweeping the battlefield they command small units of foot soldiers and are height skilled with such weapons. There strength can cleave a man in two in full armour
Equipment:
Greatswords/Greataxes
Broadswords
Steel Scutum
Steel-Plate Armoured

Archers and Infantrymen:
Trained differently to foot soldiers, both of these classes are adept with spears, bows and javelins. There size and strength makes the lethal and accurate although for manuverability they were less armour making them a more vulnerable target at the sight of battle.
Equipment:
Spears
Bows and Arrows
Wooden Buckler
Light Iron Plate Armour


Officers:
Officers are in control of single regiments. Made up of foot soldiers, Knights, archers and further militia they grace the ranks commanding orders to their men in order to stay strategically ahead in battle. Officers themselves are incredibly deadly in battle. The posses weapons ranging from giant scythes and Khopesh to Greatswords and battle axes. These weapons are often custom made to suit the officers in battle and there skill set
Equipment:
Custom swords/axes
Scythes/Khopesh
Steel shield
Steel-Plate Armour/Leather Armour



Necromancers:
These mages specialise in casting dark magic that causes curses, hexes and painful spells on their enemies. They don't pull rank and often appear over looking the battle from afar casting all manner of dark spells. There a dangerous enemy and there adept in all sorts of magic as well. All be it there power has been known to reach no limits and is rumoured that the sky has rained fire and the ground split in two during their presence in battle
Equipment:
Custom Staff
Robes
Light Steel/Leather Plates
Small Dagger/Shortsword



Captains:
Made up of the Naws fiercest and strongest warriors. They fight like no other combining magic, strength, speed and weapon skill. They are in charge of entire regiments and strategy is second to none. Above them are Generals but they are keen strategists and not so renown for their fighting. Removing a captain from battle is no small feet and changes the entire dynamic of the unit  due to their respect commanded by the troops. Double handed weapons and minimal armour may make them seem vulnerable but this only increases there dexterity on the battlefield.
Equipment:
Custom Weapon of choice traditionally double handed
Light Plate Armour/Leather Armour
Silver Armour plates traditionally enchanted




Berserkers:
Knights but bigger, more clad in armour and more ferocious. Often left in their own units as the rarely ever listen to commands given, their single purpose is to run down as many men as possible on the battlefield. Thick with armour and two handed weapons they're are simply let loose to cause as much destruction as possible during battle.
Equipment:
Two Handed Weapon
Iron/Steel Clad Armour

Premum Non Nocere: A Sci-Fi adventure synopsis

Medical Freighter 2571b: Primum Non Nocere 


By J Watson


Below is a synopsis for a sci-fi based adventure synopsis. When I get ideas it's all I can think about, the characters start talking and scenes reveal themselves to me at random and with no notice, it's very distracting! Especially when I'm already developing a different adventure or working one of my worlds. I find that if I write down a synopsis that I can come back to later I can move on for a while. It doesn't happen with every idea, some just come and go and then I use them as part of other adventures, but sometimes the story takes hold of me and it's all consuming. I'm hoping other writers experience a similar problem otherwise I need to go get some help!

Hope you enjoy the synopsis, I will be writing it in full in the future and I will post when it's done 






Synopsis:  


A medical provisions and logistics company called StellarMedical has requested aid after their freighter, 2571b was reported missing, a preliminary scan of the last known sector it travelled through picked up remnants of a distress beacon. StellarMedical is offering a significant reward for the investigation of this incident and safe return of their crew along with any patients currently under their care (manifest suggest eleven at present) and if possible, the repair of the freighter so the supplies and staff can be transferred to their initial destination (not specifying why they needed assistance in the first place). 

From here, the crew will investigate the medical freighter and find it empty (a part from a few dead crew) of all cargo, staff and patients, they will find a laboratory housing a small number of dangerous creatures, all of which weak and dying from some unknown disease but still strong enough to put up a fight if attacked. 

After exploration and scanning data banks and conferring with ships records, it will be suggested that the ship was raided and all supplies and staff were taken by an aggressive and dangerous organisation known as 'Vaxis'. The players learn that one of the members of this group posed as medical staff and sabotaged the ship so it would become stranded in this particular sector; they will also discover that one of the "patients" was a high profile political asset, currently trying to broker a deal regarding medical supplies between two warring systems. The reason for this assets covert transfer remains unknown.

The players will utilise breadcrumbs that they find to track down Vaxis to a small satellite base on one of the moons of a nearby system. The base can be explored or attacked however the players wish, they will find the crew, supplies and political asset here but they learn from Vaxis that the freighter was intended to release a deadly virus upon the planet they were sent to, for negotiations over supplies of medicine. The political asset argues the creatures in the laboratory were indented for vaccine research and the colony they were travelling too were being wiped out by an unidentified virus. The players are left to play out the dilemma and trust who they wish, in any case a handful of the "patients" and "medical staff" are in fact hostile militants intending to help release a deadly virus upon their intended destination. The political asset, if interrogated, suggested covert travel to build trust with the system he intended to attack. He convinced them that he was attending the meeting in person against the wishes of his government, when in fact, he had been ordered to see to it that he wipes out the planet!

The conclusion of this adventure will depend on the players actions and how they deal with the dilemmas they are faced with. StellarMedical are unaware of the false intent of this mission, this could lead the GM to create further adventures to track down the source of the plot or perhaps end it there and have the company pay for their silence. 

The adventure will focus around intrigue with elements of combat and exploration intertwined. 

Lightning and Blood: An OpenLegendRPG inspired Web Series

Lightning and Blood


Below is the draft synopsis of the Stream Punk style tabletop RPG web series inspired by OpenLegendsRPG. If our Kickstarter campaign is successful we will begin work straight away. All updates will be available from: 

https://openlegend.mightybell.com/share/ICAgNTI4NDU0

If you like what you read below read the other post on our blog which contains the first chapter of a short story that preceded the concept of the series. Character sheets will be posted soon! 

Pledge to our campaign and help us get what we need to get started! 

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1445413956/the-wisdom-save-show?ref=created_projects


The kingdom of Balleria was once a place of immeasurable beauty, flourishing cities and maintained a high level of standing with the other great nations of Talmora. Today it is a shell of its former self, the magic that permeated the planet vanished centuries ago, remaining only in the bloodline of the family that sits on the throne of Titan. No one knows why magic abandoned this plane, but some say they had displeased the gods and they took it from them. The interventions of the gods are not as frequent as they once were either, only the truly devote can channel their divine energies. Magic still exists in this world however, but it can only be accessed by blood magic, which carries potentially dire consequences for those who use it.

The King that now sits upon the throne remains there only as a figurehead, his powers to rule passed to a council represented by the many races that inhabit Bellaria generations ago. The magic that runs within the Kings blood now watered down through the generations allowing only minor powers with magic, mere parlour tricks really. His father however, wields enormous power. 

Through 'consuming' most of his bloodline, he found he could strengthened his control over the remnants of magic energies lingering in the world, he killed countless people, from distant relatives to his own siblings. It was when he tried to kill his own son that he walked into a trap and was taken to a secure tower known as Kinsgrave. There he remains under the watch of guards called the Pact,  who are willing to use any means necessary, even blood magic to stop him from escaping. They had tried to execute him, but he was too strong with the ways of magic; so, until they can find a way, he will remain under the watch of the Pact.

With the kingdom now at war with the countries to the east and the Pirates from the south becoming increasingly troublesome it is at this time that the country is most vulnerable. The council is failing to meet the demands of the people and the King is powerless to do anything about it and to make matters worse, word has come from Kinsgrave to say that his fathers powers were growing once again. 

"But how?" 

The Folklore of Amruhdin

Folklore of Amrudin;

The Story of the Lost scrolls of the Nu' Rhul (nah-rool);

This story begins by remembering the Mighty families of the Nu' Rhul;
An Duke (Sigil; Bear)
Silver-Blood (Sigil; Wolf)
Drakke (Sigil; Dragon)
Arrandhuk (Sigil; Oak Tree)
Eve (Sigil; Moon and Stars)
Seredin (Sigil; Falcon)
War-Fang (Sigil; Sabre-tooth Tiger)

     The Nu' Rhul (or The Last Consort) are a group of self proclaimed knights who posses abilities to manipulate the elements with very little energy. They were heavily trained in order to bend these forces of nature to there will and are taught to only use these powers for the good of the world.
     Significantly different from Mages as these gifts require no spells or staffs to act as a vessel. Nu' Rhul can bend and use these elements in there current state and change how they act. They are simply able to manipulate them with very little force and command them to their will.
     The Nu' Rhul were formed over five thousand years ago. Through the inability to control these gifts at first, families of all races from all over the content we're exiled from society. Finding each other through fate and chance, six families commandeered and ship and sailed to find new land.
     After weeks at sea, navigating the cruel oceans, the families found a deserted island. Further exploration showed the island was once home to a clan of mysterious elves who's crumbled temples and housing remained as a reminder of what was.
     Arrandhuk was the last remaining decedent of the elves still alive on the island. He lay motionless, meditating, on the mountainside when the families found him. He told the families how he had foreseen there presence and that he himself was honoured with the gift of seeing and manipulating time. Arrandhuk explained to the families that his island was a great temple to a race of High Elves who could see future events and help govern the lands based on there sight. The elves began to be disliked buy other lands who felt there presence was invasive and self righteous.
     A great wizard by the name of Marglar (House Sigil; Raven with a crown of thorns) was sent to the island to convene with the elves over there gifted vision. Unbeknown to the elves Marglar was sent by the other lands start a civil war and put and end to there unnatural sight. Half a cycle passed and the High Elves had all but perished under Marglars fork tongue. The lands convened of the riddance of this menace and began arguing over who was responsible for the elves downfall. In the meantime, Marglar used this to keep the Kings trust as his advisor and began to utilise his new found power by bringing war to the nations, eventually ending the Kings reign and taking the seat for himself.
    The six and Arrandhuk began to rebuild the island. Soon word spread of this small, sustainable nation as curiosity began to sweep over the lands. Arrandhuk cast a spell over the island allowing only people in dire emergencies or those with a magical gift to find solace. The Six began to right up guidance for how to govern there new society. They believed in true worship to the Nine for in thanks for there gifts and began to train in utilising them to there full extent. As new travellers were allowed passage, the six would work and train there new recruits and there families in the way of the Nu' Rhul.
    Eventually the Consort would train an army that would be unleashed on Marglars forces in due time. Individually the family members crept into the land and bought light to the crimes of Marglars corrupt officials. They would grizzly assassinate Barons, lords and other corrupt officials, slowly Hunting down Marglars generals in order to bring justice to his tyrannical reign.
    In a last ditch attempt, Marglar fled to sea. With a small force of his best men, Marglar cast a spell revealing the location of island. Marglar mounted an assault on a snowy night and slayed the entire islands residents and mortally wounding Arrandhuk. Upon the sixes return they found the lifeless bodies of there beloved and Arrandhuk, clinging to his last breath.
    They tended to Arrandhuks wounds to keep him from death and they buried what relics and artefacts could be used against them, sealing away there teachings with there people in an underwater tomb. Arrandhuks injuries healed and a year later the Consort payed a visit to Marglars castle. With what remained of there forces still on land and any repressed, willing and able bodied individual the Nu' Rhul launched a full frontal assault on Marglars personal residents. The great battle lasting the entire night ended with Marglar and Arrandhuks final showdown. During the epic battle, Vaughn an Duke took his silver blade into the back of Marglar bringing the great wizard to his knees. As he drew his sword from his back the wizard looked up to see Arrandhuks grey misty eyes. As Arrandhuk honoured the Mage his right to his last word, Marglar threw Vaughn from his back out the tower, clapped his hands together and slammed his palms to the floor to cast a final spell. Arrandhuk sensed this final stroke of madness and followed the trend, slammed down his palms in some sort of counter spell.
    Little was known to either Mage the true power of what they had done. In a split second the entire castle was raised to the ground. A huge crater lay where the castle one stood and thousands of deep cutaways lay around it like roots on a tree. The chasm that was left lay 3 miles from bottom to surface and was the size of its own country.
     To this day the crater is still seen as an ill omen. Marglar is said to still be alive in the great chasm, rebuilding his army under the cover of the great crater. Arrandhuk is said to be buried. Rumours have it that the blast bought his true power to the surface and he froze his body, waiting for the right time to return. None of the Six were ever seen again. Nor were any of there bodies accounted for. There story of the last of the Nu' Rhul had no real ending…


The Fable of Titus Remear;

Titus Remear was remarked as the greatest pirate of all the sea’s in the known world. Known to all as ‘Titus the Bloody’ he sailed the sea’s in search for adventure and revenge. Little is known of Titus’ past. it is said that his farther was a poor man. A pugilist and a drunk, he could barely keep  himself fed and housed, let alone look after his child.
As the folklore tells, Titus’ mother was a Siren. She led his father to a trap and instead of killing him, bore his child. She said that she had spared to his life in order to continue her legacy and it was now up to him to bring the child into the world a great man. He returned to Sirens Watch with his babe, unaware of Titus’ future
Titus’ father did the best he could to raise his child with the money he had but gradually found him self slipping further and further into debt.
One day Titus returned home to find his father beaten to the brink of death. He packed up there things and led his father away from Sirens Watch and towards the Old forest. Titus had heard wondrous stories of thieves and bandits who had disappeared in the expansive forest to be never seen again and to live in peace amongst the oaks and pines.
Alas, shortly after leaving the village, Titus and his father were hunted down by his debtors. Struck with an arrow to the nape, Titus watched his fathers lifeless, bloody body fall from the horse. Titus screamed as he approaches his father side awaiting the same fate, but for Titus the worst was yet to come.
Years and years passed and Titus was no longer a boy. He had spent his time working as a slave for the rich merchants aboard there ships paying off his fathers account. These men beat and humiliated Titus daily and he would scrub, cook, clean and serve as well as any physical labour manning his captains ship.
When sailing from Carthos, there ship hit an all-mighty storm, marooning them on an uncharted island, south of Amruhdin. Whilst repairs were being made to the ship, Titus and the captain went to explore the island. The island itself was a heavily populated Jungle. Crumbling remains of buildings existed between the foliage but it was all tinted greens and greys and heavily overgrown. After hours of scrambling and climbing through the remains of the island Titus fell through a covered patch of stone flooring and crashed into a room below. Looking around a weary Titus noted chests of what appeared to be gold and silver coins. In shock and awe, Titus announced his discovery aloud. The captain began to devise a plan and started to take what chests they could carry back to the ship. When all that was managed was removed from the vault Titus made his way to climb out.
The rocks and wood on the side of the room were unstable and began to start moving under his weight. He reached out to the captain and instead of a hand, Titus was met with a cold, steel blade. As the captain smiled Titus only then knew his worth in the crews eyes as he once again fell the floor, this time blooded and heavily wounded.
Betrayed and vengeful Titus lay there, dreaming of the men who had scorned him, killed his father and taken away his lively hood. Moonlight now glistened over the hole in the ceiling. Titus slowly rose to his feet as he felt the cold air on his back. Much of the treasure remained in the vault and Titus began to explore it further. He then noticed a small urn in one corner of the room. Fascinated by the ornate gold carvings on the vessel he proceeded to remove the lid. In a huge puff of purple smoke a voice spoke out. “You have awakened Danse from his slumber. You are now my Master, bound by the laws of the Jinn. With this, I will grant you three wishes”
Titus was speechless and utterly confused. The Jinn spoke again in its booming tone. “I grant you three wishes. Speak and I shall deliver…” Confused, Titus muttered under his breath, ‘Get me off this forsaken Island.’ “It is done” The voice boomed.
All went quiet around Titus. Minutes passed and Titus sat there clutching at the Vase. Then from the end of the room Titus herd an explosive boom. As he shot up he noticed the entire wall had caved in, exposing the forest and a way out.
Titus lept to his feet and pelted through the open cavern and ran all they way to the beach. The captain had fled the island at this point but Titus no longer cared. He was free of the stone prison and that was all that really mattered right now. Clearing his head, Titus climbed the edges of the cliffs that crested the shore, lighting a fire he waited patiently for a ship to cross his path. And as if by magic, that early morning a ship picked up the castaway and bought him into Ralia.
Paying his saviours with the small amount of treasure Titus was able to carry, he headed into Ralia and stayed there for a few nights, deciding on his next step. It was then Titus would make his second wish. “To seek revenge on the captain and his men”.
Titus hired a mercenary group to help him commandeer a vessel in Ralia and take to the seas as a fully fledged pirate. Years passed. No revenge was taken out yet but Titus had created a true name for himself. The most feared pirate in all of Carthos and Amruhdin and also known for his formation of the Cove. A Pirating community hidden away and built into the cliffs north of Ralia. Today it exists as an expansive city. Its still hidden and untraceable but to true pirates and rogues its a hidden home of crime and delight, built into the cliffs and waters on the south west coast of Amruhdin.
Years passed and stories of Titus’ work were renown. Noticing the threat in the ocean, the King put a bounty on the pirate lords head and set his best navy generals on alert to find him. On a calm night, with the stars glowing above, Titus and his men flanked and boarded the great Captains ship. With revenge on his mind Titus instructed his crew to leave the captain for him. Boarding the ship Titus’ crew began to riot and fight the soldiers on board. Storming is way into the master cabin, Titus drew his sabre, a cold smile spread over his face. Surprised by his nemesis the captain drew his sword and an intrepid battle began. Both tired and bruised, the captain went to strike a final blow at Titus. With all his strength Titus quick-stepped out the way throwing the captain from his balance and with one fell swing, Titus plunged his sabre deep into the lower back of the captain. Falling to his knees, weak and broken, Titus mustered his final strength lopping the head from the captains sholders.
Staggering from the cabin, soaked in blood, Titus held the head as a trophy and ordered the ship be raised to the sea as a warning to all who appose him.
As legend says, the burning ship was seen from the mainland by the other generals, in fear noticing that the captains own head was attached the the figurehead as a warning to all sea faring folk.
Titus’ reign continued for many years at sea before, and as rumour has it, his ship was sunk of the coast of the claws. It is said he was chased around Amruhdin by navel commanders before being flanked and sunk. Titus’ body was never recovered and as legend goes his ship sunk with his Jinn on board, still waiting to be recovered and with one last wish remaining…

Jason: Nerdy Nurse and Maker of Heroes

So, after posting a couple of our writing pieces it's time for an introduction. My name is Jason Watson I am  level 27 human world builder. I am currently studying for my masters degree in advanced clinical practice and when I am not researching or writing essays I am writing campaigns and building worlds. By day I am a senior Nurse in charge of a very busy accident and emergency department. By night, I am a teller of stories, a maker of everyday heroes and amateur (very amateur) voice actor.

My origin story, as most people call it, began when I was 11 years old in secondary school. I discovered DND 3.5 while browsing the fantasy section in a book shop. Before that I enjoyed RPG video games and play-by-page adventure books, these books were different however, as I turned the pages my mind exploded with ideas and the pictures seemed to move before my eyes. 

I read the books each time I went in (not able to buy them at that time only be in 11) and I memorised the rules and decided that the stories I had created in my head were not enough. Now you must bare in mind that my school was particularly prejudice against people that wore different clothing let alone had different interests, so I decided to select the three nerdiest people I knew to invite to a game, well I say invited them I got as far as saying "have you heard of dungeons and dragons?" I was turned down flat "that game is for nerds!" I was told. I sheepishly agreed and immediately withdrew into my introverted world and silent safety. I find it amusing to think of that time now, because a week after that conversation I was invited by the same three people to start painting and playing Warhammer! In secret of course. 

So a game was never played, but the many stories lived on, in my head (which I know sounds weird but stick with me here), I often used those worlds to escape in times of anxiety or depression and it gave me a coping mechanism. Over time, I didn't need my worlds anymore, I found new friendships and new ways to enjoy life.

Fast forward over ten  years later and I decide out of the blue to ask around my friends to see if they wanted to play a game of DND 5th edition. The replies this time were positive, and one of them was a friend I had from back in secondary school, he couldn't figure out why we hadn't played before and then I explained the whole being too "nerdy" story. He laughed.

My forgotten worlds came back to me in a rush, I had a practical use for them once more, but this time I started writing them down. I now run a number of small groups and joined up with a close friend of mine, who by this time next year will be my brother-in-law, and we build worlds together! We both have a similar approach to world building and we are maticulous with detail.


My love of these pen and paper adventure games has sprung out of two facets; one: it draws out creativity that people didn't know they had and two: it turns everyday people into the heroes we all want to be. I've watched my players stand up for bullied villagers and rescue people they didn't know from certain danger putting themselves in harms way in the process. Id like to think that if faced with a similar (but maybe less dramatic and dangerous) situation, providing them with the opportunity to step up and be a hero for someone, that they might just do it.

So that's me, a nerdy nurse from the UK with a passion for inventing worlds and using them to make heroes out of normal people!

If you have read this far, congratulations! and thank you for reading. We hope you enjoy the further ramblings of world builders and story tellers as this blog progresses.

J

A Potential Antagonist for The Empire of Amruhdin Campaign

By M. Harvey


Marglar; Lord Marglar Gannon the I of Xeriphania

"People are not born monsters... People become monsters."

The beginning and the story of Xeriphania;
South of Amruhdin lies the colossal continent of Carthos. South of Carthos the and is most uncharted. Great jungles and broad deserts span for miles and miles with few and far civilisations in between. Months of travelling will bring you too a great stone city, sat in the centre of an all-mighty desert. Built beneath the Valley of what is known as ‘Deaths Cloak’ lies the tribe of Xeriphania. The city is combined of sprawling structures such as temples, towers and citadels.
One of the eldest tribes known to the world its traditions and mythology still run true today.
The Xeriphanian people and primarily female. They are a warrior race and are expertly trained in survival due to there harsh living environment. Plagued by sandstorms and long stretches without trade, they are trained to survive and fight when making treks to the neighbouring towns and villages for food and trade or when defending there capitol from unwanted individuals.
These warrior women are taught to fight with expertly crafted bows and are lethal with these weapons on camel back as well as there us of Khopesh’s and Scythes as their bladed side arms.
The few men that are honoured to live among them, work as scribes, traders or workers, tending there farms and families. Every 100 years a boy will be born to the tribe. Not just any boy. This boy will be the son of a warrior and will be born with dark red eyes and a sign of a King to the Xeriphanian people. He becomes a Xeriphanian Lord. The Lords duty is to lead his people into greatness and ensure the survival of the tribe at all costs. When the lord passes, the greatest warrior leads the tribe until the next lord in conceived.
Marglar was born during a sandstorm. The omens where there from the start and the nurses said at his mothers bedside that a kings eyes should never glow.
It is thought his father was a great demon. A creature that lived between the two plains and existed in the void. The demon tricked his mother and she bore his son. Fears of Marglar began to surface when the noticed he passed magic abilities. No tribesmen could ever make fire from their palms or throw objects across the room by looking at them.
Scared, the Xerephanians stuck to there traditions and when Mangler turned ten, he vanished. Unbeknown to them his whereabouts they continued to live as they would without a lord, knowing full well at some point, he would return.

Marglar; Carthos, Ashfall and the Empire of Amruhdin;
Marglar had realised at a young age that he was special. That he had a gift and that it would be simply wasted and squandered living amongst the Xeriphanians. He knew he truly had to learn and study and perfect what he had in order to use it to his full advantage.
        Leaving the tribe Marglar headed towards the city of Grossemyer (gros-em-ear). It was an old Orc strong hold that later flourished into a trading city. It's main council is still run by Orcs but it's magical roots as an Orc refuge run deep. Marglar was interested to meet an Orc shaman who went by the name Balag-tung. Famous for his work in the magic community on the voids of the other realms Marglar sought his council.
      In there meetings together Marglar was told many stories of the voids and the rules bound by all races considering the dead and living. The more Balag spoke the more Marglar listened. The stories of demons and impure creatures living in a netherworld between the two. The theories of the dead walking the human plain and vice-versa began to stir in Marglars mind. According to Balag the two should never intertwine and anytime they did stirred fates worth than death for the parties involved.
      One night Marglar was studying text in the graveyard of Grossemyer when a group of young soldiers began harassing him. Drunk while off duty they began to be boisterous and unruly pushing him about and making fun of him. Marglar bit his lip in frustration before one of the boys hit him across the face. In an instant, Marglar cast a seemingly harmless spell throwing the boy into the air. As the boys body flew a good distance, he landed on a spiked metal railing fencing off the cemetery. As the boys body twitched and blooded, silence befell the group as the looked at one and other and then at Marglar. Grabbing the boy and pinning him down they tied him up and bought him the elders of Grossemyer, swearing the boy was possessed by a demon or monster.
        Things went from bad to worse for Marglar. The boy who died was the son of a Carthos councilman whose power could move any court on the continent. In fury and anger at the entire situation he wanted to make the young boy pay truly for his crimes.
      Weeks had passed whilst Marglar sat silently in his prison. Stories tell that during his time away from society he was visited by his father in visions, saying to him 'man is a plague on this earth and should be truly eradicated. You are the son of true darkness. You must become the earths saviour.'
Eventually the great deadbolt was lifted from Marglars confinement and was bought to the Dreadhall to seek sentencing.
      The trial was fixed from the start.
      The council man had deemed the demon inside Marglar was unable to respond to an exorcism through conventional means and that the boy was truly lost. There last ruling was to end the chain that led to this boys possession, once and for all. Carthos culture believes the soul is in the head and on death, The mouth is left open for its release. Execution in Carthos consist restricting the souls escape by two methods. The first and most favourable is the Arakha. The convicted kneel on a plinth and are blind folded. A great weapon, crossed between a butchers cleaver and a great sword is wedged into a piece of wood at the hilt end. This lies horizontally in front of the victim. The convicted is then asked to bend down and place there open mouth over the blade and so there back and head are perfectly straight. The executioner will the strike there occiput with an ornate warhammer, severing the entire cranium from the jawline. It is then believed the soul cannot escape as there is no mouth to act as a vessel.
      The other method is the sands of time. The convicted are taken out to a given part of the desert called the Throat. It's a deep valley, notorious for its unrelenting sandstorms and desolation. The convicted are ordered to all into the valley and are never seen again. The sandstorms are said to be so fierce that the sand begins to rip flesh from bone and fill you mouth and lungs entirely so the body effectively drowns in the sand. Excruciating and can last for days on end this is the death chosen for the truly damned. The soul is also said to remain trapped as the mouth is always full at the time of death.
      In true punishment, Marglar witnessed Balag executed by the Arakha. When that was over and Marglar thought he had cried his last his mother stepped to the plinth, chained. The council man deemed that he had her recovered and was to execute her as her womb was cursed. As she bit the blade Marglar screamed.
      Silence took over Marglar as he was taken to the Throat. The cries of his mother in his head and the bloodshed the Xeriphania would have under gone in order to not have given her up. They were a proud race and would have their land raised to the ground than give up one of their own.
      The council man gave no final words as they left Marglar the walk in the valley. He approached Marglar silently, kneeling down to his level. As he looked him in the eyes he plunged a dagger into Marglars thigh. Marglar winced, only slightly before falling into the dunes and tumbling over the now stained sand and into the valley.
      As already aware, Marglars fate was not sealed here. Perhaps it was his possible relation to the void or his will for revenge but Marglar crossed the great valley. The only person to survive and all be it a boy. Scarred, blooded and bruised Marglar collapsed out side the gates if the final city before the end of the continent, Oshima (oh-shi-mar). Another Orc-stronghold-turned-city, Oshima was the a great port town, taken by the humans and used for trade. The cities confined by a huge unscalable wall and is made up of huge towers that over look the deep sea. Marglar lay lifeless infront of the city gates before the guards picked him up and set him before the King. Marglar made light of his tale and asked for the Kings pardon. The King granted him safe passage around the city, offered him aid and set him to work in the library.
    Several years passed and Marglars access to the library led him to a plethora of books on Magic, mages and the voids. Growing more and more fascinated each and every day, Marglar began to think of his next plans to leave the city.
      One warm summers morning the King called for him. Marglar approached and asked the King why he sought his council. The King told Marglar that word had travelled of the boy who was possessed and that he had reason to believe that Marglar was that same child. Marglar stared cold and hard at the King as the he spoke his next words. The King uttered to Marglar that he didn't believe in the gods or any of that superstition and that Marglar was welcome in the city walls. The King also noted that Marglar may be safer not leaving the city as it was dangerous outside of the castle walls. That very same night, fear of what may be or what may become, Marglar snuck into the Kings chambers and drove a knife through his heart. Gathering his things, Marglar took the next ship from port and travelled to the flourishing continent of Ashfall.
Months passed of travelling and Marglar eventually found himself at the base of Frost Bite peak. After performing the pilgrimage he was invited inside to befall the oath and become a Mage. The Elders seeing his potential, Marglar had other plans. Years went passed and Marglar studied and was model student. Peace seemed obvious around the guild but things weren’t as they seemed. There were reports of nearby villagers at the base of the mounting disappearing. Homes set a blaze at random and people going missing seeking the path to pilgrimage. Beneath the veil of mystery was Marglar was plotting his own ‘breakthroughs’ in the world of magic. Cadaver after cadaver Marglar performing all types or Necromancy to test the abilities being able to enter the Void. The point between life and death was superfluous to Marglar. He wanted to find the middle. The space where evil lived. Where things to impure go. To where his father dwelled.
Marglar's laboratory was hidden away from the main guild in the basement of a small watchmans hunt. One fateful night Marglar was discovered by a fellow student, suspecting him of cheating on his exams. The the sound students horror he found the sight of Marglars nightmares. Before reaching the council and guild, Marglar caught up with the young student at which he proceeded to carry suite and throw him from the mountain top. Marglar disappeared that night. The hut was burnt down but the council found the charred remains of the monstrosities committed, as well as the almost unidentifiable remains of the young student who plummeted from the mountain top.
A council man from Carthos had recently arrived in Amruhdin. His diplomatic intent was discussing trade from the desert lands. He was making himself at home in his room in a lavish Tavern found central in the capital city of Lyridia. There was a knock on the door. The council man opened the door and a tall cloaked figure gestured to him. Awaiting this the council man followed the clad figure through tavern, across the streets to the Kings district. The figure gestured the council man to a small holding, hidden deep away in an alley. Confused the council followed but with no reason to distrust his companion. He entered into a dimly lit room and took a seat at the table in the centre of the small room. ‘You don’t remember me…’  The cloaked figure said. ‘Were you the boy from the docks? Or have we met at another council meeting?’ the man scoffed. ‘…and where are we?’ he continued, puzzled.
Silence. The cloaked figure removed his hood. ‘Tell me now if you remember me….’ The council man rolled his eyes and looked at the face of the cloaked man. He sat there smiling, humouring him until suddenly, like the rush of a waterfall it all hit him. He went cold. Sweating profusely and began shaking. ‘YOU! But how, wha- how can it be? We killed you. We left you for dead. I stopped you with my own bare hands….’ and before the sentence was finished Marglar had stabbed the council man in the very same spot as he had previously in the Valley. Screaming in agony, Marglar dragged him onto the table and began to conduct his first experiment with live pray.
It is said that what Marglar did was so twisted, even the most evil would think twice before doing it. It is said he killed the man, only to drag his ether back through the void and kill him again. over. And over. And over.
At this point, Marglar was the Kings most trusted advisor. After fleeing Ashfall, Marglar headed to Amruhdin. He arrived in Lyrida and began promptly making plans. The King at the time was Wilson Headstrong. A fair and just man, ruling his people with a solid but resolved fist. Noticing how revered he was, Marglar knew his best chances of becoming truly powerful where through that man. Faking an assassination by poisoning a banquet hall the King attended Marglar was able to ‘save his life’ in order to grant himself the trust and admiration of Wilson. As the years passed, there bond grew stronger before eventually granting Marglar, First Advisor

The Na Rhul, the downfall, the Great Chasm and the Void;
As the years further passed, Marglar become stronger. unquestionable and above all smarter. He knew Wilson better than all else and began to play him like a pawn against the other continents. He would act as a council and help dispose of any foreseen threat or advise on the Kings next moves. Shortly after becoming close with Wilson, Marglar was asked to take part in a Diplomatic mission to an unknown island in the south. It was said there lied a great tribe of powerful high elves and that the King wished to make a treaty with them should the continent go to war again.
Marglar arrived on the island and was shown around the temples and strongholds the elves had built. They had lived here peacefully for thousands of years keeping to themselves. The elves thought the treaty was a fantastic idea in order to create trade routes and set up peace in the lands. After Marglar met there Grand-Mage. Arrunhak, he had begun to make his own mind up. Sensing the sheer power the elves possessed Marglar feared if he were ever found out that they were a force to be reckoned with. Heading back to his Galley, Marglar sent a Raven to the King with fears of the elves cooperation in this and that they were plotting treason which was overheard. With trust, two ships of soldiers within a week. The islands inhabitants were massacred and Marglar burnt and tore down any structure left standing.
Shortly after this, news began to spread of several magic families, born of no magical blood like Marglar. Disturbed of the rumours of these people, Marglar began to stir hatred and fear, in and around the towns of these families to oust them from Amruhdin.  Once signs of these six families felt like they had settled Marglar began his master plan. Years of travelling, plotting and scheming meant he could now put his true plan into effect.
      One by one Marglar began strengthen his grip on the empire. Carthos and Ashfall were furious that the sole nation of High Elves had been wiped out for conjecture and here say with no real evidence of there supposed crimes. The King defended Marglar at this point, not question his decision but reinforcing it. Marglar began to use this argument between nations to form his true purpose. He began to further plot, scheme and also would now personally remove his opposition without losing the faith of Wilson. Marglar was cool and calculating. He had began to remove Carthos from the equation and only had truces with them concerning trade routes. A small war had erupted concerning Ashfalls Royal family which Marglar had planned and was playing his cards to his chest if he needed to escalate it to cause further distractions. He had also started a Civil War between the north and south in Amruhdin. He had pressed all the buttons to begin the fighting and new which ones to press to end it when he deemed ready.
At a great banquet one night. The King declared that the fate of Amruhdin rested on Marglars shoulders as the most trusted advisor. The King declared that night that as he had no son or daughter to name his heir, Marglar will take the Throne and rule with his steady hand.
Within a week the King was found dead in his chambers.
With no signs of foul play, Marglar was coronated and declared King-by-write of Amrudin. This title befalls chosen royalty with no direct bloodline to the descendant. The first few months the Kings people felt no need to worry over there new ruler but the kingdom slowly followed into darkness. Marglar began conquering small islands to the south and fuelling wars between Ashfall and Carthos. Fear struck the kingdom. Marglar assembled a court of Wizards and witches from all reaches of the world to follow suite and who believed as he did. To conquer this world and the next.
News of Marglars reign shrouded the world in fear but in a turn of events, the once exiled six families had built and army along with Arrundhak on his demolished nation. The next years that transpired were bloody. Marglar lost many of his Court Mages and generals to assassinations and assaults led by the Na Rhul. Stirring the Kingdom the north and south began to rise up against this new kings tyranny. This continued until Marglar was backed into a corner. His enemies closing in. Struggling to find a solution Marglar heard rumours that all the Six remained on Amruhdin waiting to assault his private fortress in the south.
      Under the cover of darkness, Marglar and his best men fled to the island he had once devoured. Met under the cover of a snowy night Marglar crushed the entire nation leaving all he thought dead. He entangled a deadly battle of wits and magic in Arrundhuks court tower in which he threw Arrundhaks helpless body from the great tower. Smirking Marglar orders the structures burnt to cleanse the 'cursed' island. He returned, triumphant, to Amruhdin to claim his kingdom.
           Months passed and the fighting had begun to simmer down. Marglar once again had control of his nation and began to make plans for his next step. One night during a great storm, his private fortress was assaulted. Thinking little of it being some small group of rouges and such, Marglar headed to the roof of his tower. As he approached to look down below he took sight of an all might battle of magic and power. The six had arrived to remove Marglar from the throne and cast the kingdom to a better age.
          Marglar and his armies threw themselves into the fight.All night the battle raged, casualties befalling both sides but neither giving in. Finally, the six had broken through and Marglar was met by Arrundhak on the tower. During an almighty duel Marglar had struck Arrundhak to the throat and went for his final blow before Vaughn an Duke, of the Six, plunged his great silver blade into the back or Marglar. Falling to his knees Arrundhak went to cast a final spell to rid the world of Marglar for all eternity. As his hands met the ground Marglar uttered one final curse and slammed his fists to the floor. No one can explain the next part. Mages from far reaches of the world have tried but failed. An explosion of sheer magic and force tore a crater into the earth. Nothing but man made mountains lay around the great hole. Known to men know as the Chasm, and the size of its own country its depths lay a mystery. As theories go; some believe it to be a rip on the void uttered buy Marglars last curse. Others believe it to be a graveyard for the Six and there unstoppable magic.
         The force of the event was so catastrophic that not only did it leave no human from that battle to ever be seen again but it also separated and shifted the entire continent of Amruhdin from Carthos, held tiger by a small peninsula of land.  The crumbled remains of Marglars tower are all that's left.
      The kingdom disbanded after Marglars reign and became a senate. As power shifted, the senate became an empire. The Emperor would then be elected and would make the thirteen of his twelve council men. This has stayed this way for a thousand years, not without its trails and tribulations, but has remained strong.
          It is said that Marglar, Arrundhak and the six remain. Waiting to return to the earth. Trapped in the void between worlds where the impure exist. Waiting for the chosen to release them from there prison.

The First Chapter of a Tabletop RPG inspired Steam Punk world (first draft)

By: J Watson

Tales of The Nimbus


Chapter 1: Lightning and blood


The unmistakable silhouette of The Nimbus raced over the grounds heading for the sprawling metropolis of the capital city known as Titan. The propellers of the large ship chopped at the air with deafening consequences for those nearby as it steadily approached its final destination. The captain of The Nimbus was rooted at the helm carefully navigating the ship so as not to disturb the carefully stacked vessels that contained the previous nights haul of harvested electrical energy. The captain and his crew were among the few ships in the skies that conducted lightning from storms into containers that could be used to power the cities and dwellings for the people of Bellaria.
"Steady now!" The captain bellowed against the winds, the last raindrops of the storm spraying his face.
Timus Roft had captained The Nimbus since his father died, the same way most thunder chasers did, plummeting to his death after the ship was struck by lightening. Timus could not ever bring himself to think of his fathers last moments, the ship was out of control and he had stepped up to take the helm while his crew stood in disbelief that their captain had gone overboard. Instead, Timus frequently reminded himself of the dangers of his chosen career by looking up at the canvas that formed the balloon keeping his sky vessel afloat; the various repairs from multiple lightning strikes written in the baloons patchwork appearance.
Though one of the youngest captains of the fleet he was known to have a keen eye for weather and a sixth sense for danger. He tried to give the responsibility of captain over to one of the more senior members of the crew following the night of his fathers death but they decided that The Nimbus needed to remain under the control of a Roft. His crew had helped secure his reputation with the rest of the Chasers by spreading many rumours about their superhuman captain but Timus remained forever modest.
His knee length thick leather coat snapped in the winds as he eyed the large gate that lead into the city. The enormous doors were constructed centuries ago and were plated in bronze and emblazoned with a lions open mouth in the centre, as the ship approached the large cogs and gears began to crunch to life allowing the circular door to part in the middle allowing them entry. The gateway sat far below the city, built into the mountains that the metropolis sat upon. The gate opened onto a dark tunnel. The Nimbus by comparison was tiny and passed through before the gate had fully opened; there was a short pause before the gears clunked once again to close the gate behind them.
The tunnel that lead to the cities airport was lined with a few dwindling lights that seemed to grow dimmer with each passing second.
"Looks like they need this more than we thought" Timus said under his breath, acknowledging his cat that sat upon his shoulder at all times; the silver and black cat seemed to nod in agreement.
The ship sped towards the port passing over the arrays of magic engines that once powered the gate now lying dormant. A solumn reminder of the times when magic permeated the planet, now symbols of hope that it may some day return.
The noise and steam filled spaces of the airport made Timus feel at ease, he felt hidden here, although everyone knew who he was, he felt he could easily slip away at a moments notice.
As the propellers began to slow and the engines began to settle down for their slumber the captains’ ears began to allow other sounds in once again. He could hear the voices of his crew calling to the port staff, exchanging greetings and hearty laughter, he could hear the various vents in the port expelling clouds of steam into the air; he heard the sounds of many boots heading up the steps from below deck.
"First drinks on me lads!" The familiar sound of excitement came from a young woman known lovingly as Props, the ships engineering genius. As she burst out the hull with several other crewmembers in tow she span to look up at the helm. Her face was covered in a layer of soot and grease as always, save for the mark where her magnifying goggles sat, which were now perched on the top of her sandy coloured hair. She raised a glove to her head
"Permission to leave The Nimbus capt'n"
The corner of Timus' lips broke into a smile, he found it difficult to appear stern to the crew, they were his family and they all showed each other the same respect. He believed that it was their bond that enabled them to return from their perilous journeys time and time again.
"Permission granted"
Props smiled and span so quickly she almost lost balance, the large satchel of tools she always carried didn't help but she was never without it.
Timus lowered his goggles returning them to their resting place around his neck and began to collect himself before he disembarked.
"I know I tell you this every time we make port, but, your father would have been proud"
Timus turned and walked towards the large man with arms as thick as most people's legs leaning on the handrail, his beard trimmed and greying and his eyes wise and full of pain.
"Thank you Sam" Timus forced a smile to prevent any tears and moved passed him to leave the ship. The wound his fathers passing left was still too raw, despite years of captaining the ship he still convinced himself that it was only temporary, until he returned.
As he approached the gangplank Sam called to him from the helm
"Do you want me to get the lads to start offloading the cargo?"
"Aye, but can you supervise Sam? I don't want to lose another container like last time"
Sam gave a throaty laugh "Aye, don't think we can afford it" and nodded in the direction of the port they were moored at last time; it was still out of action and the scars remained from the electrical energy that had arced its way across the port. The damage could be seen as far as the ceiling that was so far away it could easily be mistaken for the night sky, were it not for the noise of hundreds of people that echoed about the cavern.
The captains boots hadn't left the ship before he saw someone approaching wearing a pinstripe suit and sporting a monocle,
"Here we go" Timus sighed as he pretended he hadn't noticed him.
"Er...er...m-mr Timus sir"
"Captain"
"Oh...e-er...yes of course Captain sir" the cleared his throat "the grand court of Titan requests your presence at your earliest convenience"
"Very well" Timus strode past the stout man and walked a few paces before realising the man was following him, he rounded on him.
"I presume you were just being polite then" Timus growled, it always frustrated him when people didn't speak their minds, he called them ‘daisy mouths’ because pretty flowers grew out of them and they smelled sweet enough, but underneath it all, it was just shit.
"I apologise sir...e-er Captain, they are waiting for you" he gestured towards the bank of shining brass contraptions that lead directly to the surface.
"Fine, but I have someone with me I think they should meet, give me a minute"
"Very well" the man drew out his pocket watch as he tried to ignore the captains scowls.



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The chambers that held the high court of the city sat high above the central district of Titan. Seven seats sat in a semi-circle in a room of polished marble and red velvet drapes. The light bounced off the sand coloured floor from the large windows that enveloped the room; the silence was only broken by the sound of King Malon's fingers drumming on the arm of his chair. The King was no older than 30, similar to captain Timus and in fact they had known each other since they were children, his fingers drummed out of boredom and eagerness to see his friend once again.
"Must you do that your highness?" One of the men dressed in white leaned over to say. His long white beard was mirrored in the faces of most of those that sat in the room, the council was formed of representatives from every race that dwelled within the city, each seat filled with an elected member of their community and two other senior members standing either side, the oldest member being an Elf named Garrick, but he attended court with no other members of the elven community. Though the varying races co-existed in harmony within the city, matters of the court we fought separately.
Malon's fingers stopped.
"Of course, my apologies"
The handles of the large rose wood doors squeaked momentarily and then swung open. A rotund man in a pinstriped suit walked into the room his shoes resonating off the marble with Captain Timus and another man in his late teens accompanying him.
"If it please the court" the man begun "may I introduce to you Captain Roft and master Wilson"
Malon sat forward in his chair and smiled at Timus, nodding in silent greeting. Timus responded in kind. The old elf sitting to the Kings left raised a hand
"Thank you for bring him to us, you may leave"
The man bowed and swiftly left the room closing the doors behind him.
The silence seemed endless before the old man spoke at last
"We trust your journey was satisfactory?"
Timus attempted to stifle his frustration with the question
"You brought me all the way up here to ask me that? You could have waited for us to offload to find out for yourself!"
Garrick raised his hand again, the rest of the council remained motionless, apart from Malon who seemed to be enjoying the exchange
"Fine, we will dispense with the pleasantries" Malon's face changed as the silence drew on once more as if addressing the gravity of what was about to be said.
"Before I begin however, who is this person you bring with you?"
The captain turned gesturing to the overwhelmed looking young man standing next to him. He wore the clothes of a thunder chaser but at the same time looked out of place standing next to the captain, his shirt was clean and neatly rolled up to his elbows.
“This is Marcus Wilson, he was an apprentice aboard The Medallion. A few days into our journey we found the ship destroyed and this boy aboard the vessel. He tells us…”
“…please, let him speak” the old man interrupted.
Timus took a deep breath and calmed his anger, “very, well”. He directed Marcus to the centre of the room. The young man turned to Timus looking for direction, “well, go on, tell them what you told me”.
His posture and general demeanor gave him the look of a small child not a young man, his voice broke with nerves as he spoke, “I-I had only been on the ship for three days….I-it was my first journey as a chaser…”
“Yes, well get on with it!” Garrick barked.
Captain Rofts’ eyes burned “You wanted him to speak! So let him!” his voice echoed around the court for a moment. The rest of the council, whispered frantically anticipating Garricks wroth, but it never came. The captains features softened once again as he turned to Marcus, “Go on boy, tell it true”.
“t-true sir?” Marcus replied. Timus’ eyes narrowed,
“Yes Marcus, the truth!” He turned him towards the court.
“e-er well…w-we were still a ways from the storm, b-but one night w-while I was sleepin’ I heard a load o’ noise. There were shoutin’ an’ loud bangs. I-I aint gonna lie, I ran to the store room and hid. I-I saw ‘em come in, they were after the cannisters, b-but they were all empty, ‘cos we ‘adn’t reached the storm yet so…” The room was silent, no one was fidgeting in their seats, they hung off every word this boy said. “..I waited, then I went up to the top…everyone was dead, and the ship was on fire!” He bagan to sob uncontrollably; Timus stepped forward and rested a hand on his shoulders. “You did well lad” he raised his head towards the court “We found their ship on the ground, no one survived but Marcus. We found him in one of the lightening containers”.
The old man took a deep breath, “Well, that was quite intriguing” he shot a sideways glance at a few of his co-councilors, Malon saw this and looked puzzled, “Is there something I’m missing” he declared. Garrick sighed heavily “Well yes…Timus, we summoned you hear to discuss our desperate shortage of power, it is no secret that our reserves are dwindling and you more than anyone are aware that the storms are becoming less frequent. As I am sure you know there are very few ships capable of Conducting and even fewer people willing to take the risk, we have been speculating at the possibility that pirates may also be hindering the process”
“Pirates!” Malon sat forward, “What would be the use? Stealing Lightening? What would they do with it? Other than try and sell it back to us? We would catch them before they could offload!”
Garrick nodded solemnly “Agreed, but from what this man is saying it sounds as though our concerns were well placed”
Timus looked at the faces of the council members, “Then we must ask ourselves, if they are not planning on selling it to the realm what are they doing with it? How many vessels have we lost since we left on our last voyage?”
Garrick signaled to a younger male gnome on his right across the room, his perfectly coiffed hair sprung to attention as he began pulling roles of parchment from his bags. He looked over several documents before he cleared is throat, “Lets see, we have had reports that we have lost The Medallion, The Light-Bringer, The Red Mist, The Night Guard, The Brightling…”
Captain Rofts eyes shot towards the man, he said under his breath “…the Brightling!” Timus’ eyes darted around his head, clutching onto the memories of all the ships that the gnomr wearing the orange and white robes was reading out; Malon recognized his friends distress.
“That is quite enough Bayloft, just a number would be surfice” Bayloft looked towards Malon and Garrick then turned back to his parchments, nodding and counting, after some time he announced, “…f-fourteen,” he confirmed to himself,  “fourteen airships, reported lost or destroyed”
“Fourteen?” Timus said in disbelief, his eyes betraying his emotions. So many good sailors…and friends he thought. “Any news on any of the crews and their captains?”
Bayloft searched his beloved documents, he started shaking his head before he could even say “No, I-I am sorry I have no word on that”. The court erupted in whispering speculation once more.
Garrick raised his hand once again to call for silence, “I appreciate this must be hard to hear Timus…” The captain had begun pacing the room with his gloved hands on his hips revealing the weapon that swung from his belt. A creation of his own design but built by Props, Timus carried a brass baton that contained a glass tube that glowed and crackled with electrical energy. Malon had never seen it being used, but always wanted to ask Timus if he could try it, there was never a good time.  
Garrick continued “…but we need to consider the ramifications of this information?” Timus eyed Garrick angrily with each pass as he walked the marble floor. His mind was a mixture of anger, frustration, sadness and confusion. The young man that stood with Timus kept his eyes to the ground and his hands clasped in front of him.
“…thanks to Master Wilsons account we can entertain the idea that pirates are indeed targeting our ships. We also know that The Medallion was not carrying any cargo, however, that leaves thirteen ships that could have potentially been on their way back to us, meaning…” He gestured at Bayloft once again. Nervously he rifled through yet more documents, began muttering numbers under his breath, “potentially five thousand strikes” Garrick took this under consideration for a moment and shuddered at the notion, “I still don’t understand what has provoked this sudden interest in Lightening?” the dwarven representative barked. Malon looked around at the blank faces around him, “perhaps they have found a way to harness it as we did, or maybe they have found a way to weaponise it?”
Garrick steepled his fingers, “Indeed”, Timus stopped pacing and turned to the court, “Well I take it that was all you needed me for?” He was eager to leave the room and inform his crew of the news.
Garrick looked up from his thoughts and addressed the fidgety captain, “We initially called you here to discuss the possibility of piracy, but your new companion has just confirmed it,” Timus shot a glance at Marcus “It appears we have” he said in a tone that made Malon’s feel uneasy. Malon eyed both of them with an inquisitive but cautious look so as not to arouse suspicion among the court. Garrick cleared is drying throat “…we would like for you to stay for as long as possible until we have decided what to do with this information”
“I can only tell you that we will be here ‘til the morning, after that we leave for the storms” The captains insolent tone made the various members of the court shift in their seats and eye Garrick nervously, awaiting his response. Garrick was a stern but very wise man, he knew better than to argue terms with the captain of the Nimbus. Not only was he extraordinarily stubborn but he was also the kings close friend, there would be no use in arguing the matter further, especially as he endeavored to have a plan ready by the morning that would deal with this problem. He simply replied “very well, you may take your leave” the tension that had crept into the room during the silence between Garrick and Timus, dropped in a unified exhale of the members of the court. Timus span on his heels, his leather jacket flurried and snapped as he made for the large doors, slamming them behind him. After meeting with the crew he intended to meet with king Malon in private to discuss this matter further.





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Malon sat in his favourite chair in his solar, his legs drapped over the arm of the large worn leather seat; the shiny brass buttons glinted in the rays of waning sunlight that poured into the room through thick glass, overlooking the magnificent streets of the central district of Titan. Malon sat, and waited, and waited, the boredom of this afternoon’s court (aside from Timus Roft’s visit) coupled with this insufferable waiting around was driving him to distraction.
He began to amuse himself by snapping his fingers, bringing fourth flames in his hands. He watched the orange and yellow light dancing off his fingertips and enjoyed the warmth that touched his cheeks.
“Wow!” Marcus said with a gasp.
Malon leaped out of his chair, startled. He knocked over a goblet of wine while he backed away from the boy. As he gathered his nerves he realised Marcus, Props and Timus were standing in the entrance of his solar. “You scared me half to death” Malon exclaimed, catching his breath.
Timus smiled “The boys never seen magic before” the captain moved towards Malon with his arms wide open. They embraced and Malon regarded the expression on master Wilsons face.
“It’s good to see you again brother” Malon whispered. The cat on the captains shoulder purred as they broke away from the hug. Malon smiled, “It’s good to see you again Jinx!” The cat seemed to smile and started cleaning himself.
“Props, you are looking as filthy as ever!” They exchanged a smile and Props wiped a greasy arm across her greasy face, Malon couldn’t determine whether it made things better or worse, he smiled again.
“Master Wilson…” Malon began. Marcus still looked shocked at what he had seen. “Why…? How can you…? Your hands..I?” the boy said. Malon chuckled, “Have you not heard the stories of my bloodline?” Malon looked to Timus and Props who returned concerned looks, “Where have you been? Living under a rock?” He laughed again.
“Malon” Timus began.
“Every Chaser knows the story of his King?”
“Malon” Timus said again, trying to interrupt his friends’ train of thought.
Malon thought on the moment of awkward tension between Timus and Marcus during court, when they had been discussing the amount of ships that had been reported missing and destroyed. Malon looked at Marcus deep in his eyes, which grew wider as he approached, “You, are no Chaser! Are you?!” Malon turned towards Timus.
“No Malon, he is not a Chaser. We did indeed find him aboard The Medallion…” Malons eyes darted between them. “…but he belonged to the crew of the pirates”
Malon’s eyes erupted in a mixture of anger and confusion, “and you brought him here?!”
“Malon, calm yourself, you have always trusted me, haven’t you?”
Malon turned away from them and made for his chair. Malon huffed as he plummeted into the large chair, “Ok lets hear it” he rested his head in his hands.
“You know as well as I do, this government your grand-father left behind for you is corrupt” Malon looked up from his hands and gazed out of the window over the city, his neatly trimmed beard displaying varying shades of brown in the setting sun, he smiled “I always used to walk about these halls referring to Titan as my city, when in truth, I am nothing more than a figurehead. What was my Grand-father thinking?” Malon looked at the young man who was looking sheepishly at the floor once again. “So you really haven’t heard about me?” Timus nudged Marcus to respond. “N-no sir, I-I mean your Grace”
“Well, I’ll let Timus fill you in on the details but lets just say the last source of true magic runs in my blood. Unless, that is, you want to try your luck at blood magic, but we all know that carries dire consequences, eh Jinx?”
The cat hissed at Malon, “Indeed” the cat growled as he glanced at Marcus. The boy jumped away from Timus and Jinx.
“It can talk?” Marcus spat out, nearly falling over were it not for the wall behind him. Jinx turned his head towards the startled man.
“He can talk!” Jinx corrected.
“Jinx, Props show our friend here the city”. Jinx leapt down from the captains shoulder and stalked towards one of the large windows on the other side of the room, Props ushered Marcus over to the same window and began pointing out the main parts of the city as the monorail passed below.
Timus pulled up a chair beside Malon as the king continued to eye the pirate standing at his window and poured himself another goblet of wine.
“Malon, I am using him to get more information about the pirates. I brought him here because I can’t let him leave my sight, as long as he stays with me, you and your people will be safe”
“I agree with you on that Timus but we could just as easily take him to the cells, or send him off to Kinsgrave to rot alongside my father!”
“I have a feeling that might be what the pirates want.” As the captain said this Malon studied Timus’ expression. “Do you not find it odd that after all those ships that were attacked, they just happen to leave one of their own aboard The Medallion?”
“What is the boys explanation for this?”
“He tells me that he disagreed with their methods and attempted to stop them from continuing their plans, so they left him stranded” Malon chuckled.
“Well Timus I have heard taller stories, and that was just in court today!” His face, now returning to his more jovial expression, he took a large drag of wine.
“Indeed, but nevertheless, he has information, whether he realizes it or not, that we could use to fight this”
“What exactly are their plans?” Malon looked to Marcus once more, still deep in discussion with Props as Jinx sat by, his tail flicking from side-to-side.
“That he doesn’t know, apparently” Timus said, Malon huffed.
“Of course he doesn’t” Malon thought once again about the situation in court that afternoon, “He also didn’t tell you how many ships were attacked?”
“He did not,” Timus now also looking in the direction of the pirate boy,  “he told me he spent most of his time in the ships galley, he could only guess at the number of ships attacked” Malon pondered the conversation for a moment, while he tapped a finger on the top of his silver bejeweled goblet. He rolled his eyes and sighed, “Very well, I agree that you are the best person to handle this. I will make my opinion of these matters known to the council, albeit they will do what they wish anyway”. Timus smiled at his frustrated looking friend,
“One day the regency will have control again” Malon attempted a smile and looked at his hands. “That maybe, but I am not the king to do it” Malon looked up and cast his eyes over the city, “Things have gotten worse Timus…” tears welled in his eyes as he turned back to his friend, “…the council have banned all use of unnecessary electrical energy, people are being forced to light their houses with candles while the council members bathe in the fruits of lightening energy, and don’t even get me started on food. The pestilent war in the east is slowly infecting our cities and villages we are beginning to decay from the inside and the council is more concerned with lightening!”. Timus wiped a tear from Malon’s cheek.
“That is another reason why we cant waste time handing Marcus over to democratic fools with no drive to make changes” Malon nodded, “For all we know the council hired these fools to drive up the price of lightening”. Malon entertained the notion for a moment and then dismissed it as being too cruel and deceitful, even for the council. “We also need the lightening to win the war so either way we need to resolve this!”. Timus could see the pain in his friends face and decided to change the subject, “How is your little brother doing?” Malon smiled and wiped his face, his expression changing immediately. Malon leaned round his friend to ensure the pirate was still engaged in conversation. “He fairs well, his talents with magic are exceeding my own” Timus looked puzzled, “really?!” Malon nodded.
“Yes, I know, we are just as confused as you look. For centuries my bloodline has been watered down through the generations, but for some reason, Tyke has had more power than the last few generations of our family combined”. Timus took a moment, he looked back at Malon concerned, “Your father, does he?”
“No, no of course he doesn’t know, he was imprisoned before his powers began to manifest. Gods help us if he escaped, there’s hardly any of my family left for him to consume; but if he got hold of Tyke, well I am afraid that would be the end of us all.”
“I take it all is well in Kinsgrave?” Timus gulped. Malon laughed and stood from his chair, placing a hand on Timus’ shoulders. “All is well brother, now come, it is time we drank and I meet with the rest of your crew, it has been far too long! I miss that bastard Clayton! He owes me ten gold!” Timus smiled “We shall meet you in the usual place then, in your usual guise? Mr Featherweather?” Malon laughed, “Indeed!”. Malon ushered his guests out of the solar, laughing and ignoring the pirate that had made his acquaintance. The smile faded from his lips as he closed the doors behind them and walked back to the window. His gaze stretched out beyond the city and to the tall tower on the horizon known as Kinsgrave. “All is well brother” he said again, with hope-filled nausea laying in his chest.