Turning to the soldier and grinning thoughtfully, the Shadow inquires, "How about you, Solomon?"
The figure of Gruush lets the question linger for a moment, before adding, "You've been ever-our faithful shield and protector throughout this journey. You've never sought power yourself, nor been born to it. Who better to wear a Crown in hopes of a brave New Kingdom, then it's most humble and loyal servant?"
Solomon shakes his head. "I have had too many failures of judgment in my time. Arora Herself knows I would try and wield the power righteously, but I fear that's where I would falter. If I have the power to enact whatever justice I see fit, how could I ensure that my view of justice would not change? How can we ensure that I would not turn that power on the innocent, or upon my comrades?"
"A chain perhaps?" Arthur's voice chimes up from behind them. "Something that you might feel the weight of, but like Kirina says, can be removed more easily."
"Whatever form it takes, this doesn't happen without all the pieces. We all would have to give up our shards."
"A chain... perhaps that may be the answer, Arthur. Whomever wields this power must do so in service of others, not for themselves. The Crown must take a form to reflect that service. A binding to a cause, a chain could suit that purpose."
Solomon doffs his armor, his body showing its many scars, including the partial Giant rune burned into his flesh. "A chain, both physical and spiritual. This incomplete word upon my chest, it can take any meaning should it be finished. A rune of servitude could be carved into my flesh, binding me to my oath eternally to harm none other than any Starspawn or Demon who seek to enter our world. If one of us should be bound this way, then let it be me. I would rather you all be free to live your lives in peace."
"And if not me, then anyone who would claim this power must also be bound to service, to keep their ambitions in check. And if someone else should be bound here, then I would remain, your loyal sword and shield."
"We don't have much time. If we are going to create something, it needs to be now." Arthur breaks the momentary silence.
Waving a hand in the air, Arthur summons his mage hand by the crown piece left by the Sovereign. It grabs onto it and starts dragging it back towards Arthur and the anvil.
I'm not sure if this wound start any initiative thing with Gladdinore, so not completing the action, just initiating it
"We don't have much time. If we are going to create something, it needs to be now." Arthur breaks the momentary silence.
Waving a hand in the air, Arthur summons his mage hand by the crown piece left by the Sovereign. It grabs onto it and starts dragging it back towards Arthur and the anvil.
I'm not sure if this wound start any initiative thing with Gladdinore, so not completing the action, just initiating it
A minute ago she would have done something, but now she’s sided with Kirina, so it’s up to @kime to intervene or not.
So, are you giving your shards to Arthur, who has the hammer that can destroy or forge something from the shards?
For a moment, Kirina hesitates. But no, they've been through too much. And it seems the group mostly come to an accord, even if since if the specifics need working out. But they have time for that later.
Kirina removes the shard of her crown and passes out to Arthur. "Let's make something new."
“Let this be the end of my father’s lineage, and the beginning of a new era.”
Arthur now has the large base of the crown, Kirina and Gladdinorre’s shard on the anvil.
Unbeknownst to you all, the barrier of fog has fallen away, and demons are rushing out into the wider world. They seek its end, to cut it from the tree before the stars descend. They will retreat only if they know the star-spawned horrors cannot reach this world.
Solomon holds up his holy symbol over his chest, says a prayer to Arora and wills the Shard he holds free of his body. He stands beside Arthur and offers the Shard to the young wizard.
The Shadow nods in agreement. "To the New World!" Reaching into his throat, the Rogue slowly, painfully pulls the shard from somewhere deep inside himself. He gives an involuntary shudder as it leaves his form...then, with a final, longing glance, hands it off to the waiting Wizard...
Should Arthur make an attempt to do anything other than create the chain in good faith for the group, Sleight of Hand roll to stab him right in the back
Arthur stands before the anvil, hammer in hand. The shards illuminate his face, not so young, a man, a wizard of great renown. His hair begins to rise on the wind, for this island is breaking apart as it falls to the land below. He is flanked on his right by Solomon. To his left, almost leaning over his shoulder, Gruush is poised. Kirina looks him in the eye from across the anvil. Gladdinore has turned from you all, her back to Kirina. Alzav is slumped nearby, alive but exhausted, quiet, pensive.
It is clear that Gruush has a knife ready to stab Arthur in the back should things go afoul, but he does not have a surprise round to do so. It will be a matter of rolling initiative, and if Arthur is faster Gruush will not act in time. Arthur will succeed and our story will come to a close.
If Gruush attacks, it will count as a sneak attack, and that will be our ending, as moments after the island will impact the ground. The forging so interrupted will destroy the shards. Arthur, if alive and willing, may cast feather fall to save you all.
Arthur! You raise the hammer high! Answer now:
What form will the new object of power take, and what does that form represent?
Must you willingly seek out the power of the stars, or settle for what remains in these shards, or will you offer this new object to another? If you seek their power as the Sovereign once did you will be unmatched in might, but the demons will not stop their march. You would have to fight them forever, or until the stars finally subsume everything. With only the power granted by these shards forged anew, you would still be the most powerful man alive, but men can die. If offered to another, they must accept, for there is no time left.
Will you once again place a fog barrier around this land, or allow the world to again learn deeper magics? In addition, if you leave the barrier down those descended from the other races such as giants will slowly return to their ancient shapes over many generations. Bringing the barrier back up will leave the wider world to humanity.
Arthur! Make a Wisdom saving throw…
Finally, to reiterate, whatever you say now might be undone if Gruush chooses to attack and rolls higher than you on initiative, but if not, this is how it goes. Post as if you’ve already won.
What form will the new object of power take, and what does that form represent?
Arthur raises the hammer after extracting his own shard. He is thinking of a chain like he has said aloud. But as the hammer reigns down, he is lost in the work, overcome by the magic. The shape takes form slowly, flattened and then slowly more square shaped. In the end, the Wizard has unintentionally shaped the power into the shape of a book.
Gone is the representation of a ruler over all as it was with the crown. The new age will be lead by power in the form of knowledge. Knowledge for the one holding the book, knowledge able to be given out, knowledge of how to hold back the demons and the stars at the same time.
Must you willingly seek out the power of the stars, or settle for what remains in these shards, or will you offer this new object to another? If you seek their power as the Sovereign once did you will be unmatched in might, but the demons will not stop their march. You would have to fight them forever, or until the stars finally subsume everything. With only the power granted by these shards forged anew, you would still be the most powerful man alive, but men can die. If offered to another, they must accept, for there is no time left.
Without hesitation, when the book is forged, Arthur picks it up. He hadn't known it was this exact ending, but he had entered the mists in search of power and knowledge. And now, with the vast amount of it right in front of him, he picks it up with confidence.
He will save this world, save his companions, save those that can't save themselves. He will reject the stars and their corrupted promises. He has seen that world first hand, and he knows it has no place in this realm. He doesn't know if the shards have enough power to fight both the Starspawn and the demons, but he will find out.
Will you once again place a fog barrier around this land, or allow the world to again learn deeper magics? In addition, if you leave the barrier down those descended from the other races such as giants will slowly return to their ancient shapes over many generations. Bringing the barrier back up will leave the wider world to humanity.
As easy as it would be to raise the fog, Arthur refuses to do so. The world must learn if it is to survive. He will deal with the repercussions of that over time, but just as he sought knowledge, so must this world.
Geth, roll 1d20+5 for WIS Saving Throw
Geth just plain doesn't want anyone to roll well anymore.
The island quakes with each strike of the hammer. The shards become molten hot, forcing all away with the heat! Only Arthur endures it, becoming brilliant against it, being forged along with it.
When he is done, he is the Hierophant.
—
A slim pillar is all that remains on the island as it gently comes to rest before the belfry ruins. The sun rises over the world, long shadows reaching out to its four corners. Demons cower from the light, shivering against some primordial call—return, return—and so, their march is over. Bewildered villagers creep from their hiding places, kingdoms put to ruin in but one night. They would rebuild, many survived the chaos.
Yet, there are demons who remain. Vigil keepers for a death foretold. In the darkest pits, the furthest wastes, the beings come to be known as seers. Fools and those all too wise seek them out in the coming centuries in greater numbers…
—
The Age of Knowledge begins with splendours, both those dredged up from the forgotten depths and those made new, breakthroughs in understanding. Whispers of the Tree grow louder in the halls of wizards with each passing year. So too are the gods laid bare, the paths to approach the gnarled dragon and the guiding star, while false idols are spurned. Kingdoms of old fall and republics rise. No more are sorcerers hunted in the desert realms. No more are wars fought for things so petty as food and water.
—
Yet, the smallest of things, stardust ticks and flickering flames of the void, begin to creep through as the age matures. They would be forced into material forms to survive, and to most they would be mere monsters, just one more beast of strange properties lurking in the wilds, where magic has grown rotten.
—
The lineages of the world once again free, humanity’s reign ended, but they were not extinguished. They learned to live among their kin, and became masters, equals and servants of them in fair measure. Giants returned, and those from the mountains, soon called bugbears and dwarves by men, shared life with them, and with elves, trolls and more. They truly were kin, but each different in kind.
Magic was in all places as this age drew so long few knew the full extent of the past, and though the nights drew longer, hundreds of years passed with nought but wonder and wealth—at least for those who’s intelligence deserved them thus. Wizard now was the word used in place of king.
—
“The Hierophant?”, a wrinkled old man says, rubbing his brow where his glasses so often rested, “I cannot say if they are good, but at the 93rd century of their age, this world as yet remains…”
A child on his knee brightens, “Then they must be good!”
The sun begins to set outside.
“Grandfather, what do you suppose they dream of at night?”
—
The End!
For the rest of you, what did you do with your lives, now the demons are gone, the world is open and you’re all jacked as Hell?
A book is not a bad idea, so Solomon wouldn't try to prevent it.
In fact, there might be something that can help...
Solomon sees the Crown begin to take its new shape, immediately recognizable because of the individual creating it. To share knowledge, to teach, to care; they are noble pursuits.
However a thought gnaws at the back of Solomon's mind. Knowledge can just as easily be hoarded. Solomon fights back the instinct to interrupt the forging, leaving his trust in the wizard. Solomon removes a journal, well worn from travel and use. A journal filled with notes and memories, the words written by a young scholar and illustrated by an old soldier.
Solomon holds the journal up in front of Arthur, to remind him of what they had accomplished as comrades, as friends.
Sorry it took so long, but here's Solomon's epilogue. It was a good time, all!
Solomon had sworn that he would look after the young wizard Arthur, and the old knight was true to his word. Even though Arthur had become the Hierophant, Solomon still saw him as the optimistic and bright lad he had met after crossing the fog and he hoped that his presence might keep Arthur's humanity intact, a hope he kept, perhaps in vain.
Many sought out the Hierophant, seeking His wisdom, and there were some who sought forbidden or profane knowledge. As the Guardian of the Hierophant, Solomon, now known as the Judge Knight, would appraise those seeking audience to see if they were worthy of beseeching the Hierophant. Most honored the knight's judgment, but there were some who thought they could overcome the old knight, their arms and armor were kept on display as a warning to those who would attempt such foolishness.
Solomon himself only sought audience with the Hierophant once, when age had fully gripped him and his hair was white and his frame had shrunk with time. It was not to gain knowledge or power, or to discover the secrets of the cosmos. It was only to present the Hierophant with a gift; a simple, leather bound journal, the pages yellowed and the leather worn with age. The pages were filled with notes and observations collected during a grand and perilous journey, each entry was accompanied by an illustration, only made possible by a gift left behind by a long departed spirit. On the inside cover of the journal was a short note written in a slightly unsteady hand, one which was wracked with the aches and pains of age as well as numerous battles from the past. The note was short; Arthur, I vowed to protect you, and my word is my bond. Should you have need of me, just call upon my name.
After that audience, the old knight was laid to rest, his body having succumbed to age. Solomon was buried in a simple stone sarcophagus in the ruins of an old belfry, the only adornment being an old holy symbol and a well maintained greatsword. Above the sarcophagus, in what would have been the bell tower, an owl perched above, watching those who might come and see the knight's grave. None knew how old the owl truly was, it never seemed to age, perhaps because of the magic that had once altered his form into that of a man or because of the magic of the Beyond itself.
At the base of the sarcophagus was a plaque dedicated to the knight who rested within. It said:
Here lies Solomon Felhand, Devotee of Arora, Sword of Retribution, the Judge Knight.
Of all his titles, there is one he held in highest esteem; Friend.
Not online much now but gotta chime in and say that’s such a lovely bit of storytelling Zomro. Really loved Solomon’s arc. You were all acting your hearts out really, which considering I was just making stuff up on the fly while sawing wood and sledgehammering things at work means a lot to me.
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Solomon shakes his head. "I have had too many failures of judgment in my time. Arora Herself knows I would try and wield the power righteously, but I fear that's where I would falter. If I have the power to enact whatever justice I see fit, how could I ensure that my view of justice would not change? How can we ensure that I would not turn that power on the innocent, or upon my comrades?"
"A chain... perhaps that may be the answer, Arthur. Whomever wields this power must do so in service of others, not for themselves. The Crown must take a form to reflect that service. A binding to a cause, a chain could suit that purpose."
Solomon doffs his armor, his body showing its many scars, including the partial Giant rune burned into his flesh. "A chain, both physical and spiritual. This incomplete word upon my chest, it can take any meaning should it be finished. A rune of servitude could be carved into my flesh, binding me to my oath eternally to harm none other than any Starspawn or Demon who seek to enter our world. If one of us should be bound this way, then let it be me. I would rather you all be free to live your lives in peace."
"And if not me, then anyone who would claim this power must also be bound to service, to keep their ambitions in check. And if someone else should be bound here, then I would remain, your loyal sword and shield."
Fancy a go paku? You don’t have to.
The island you’re standing upon begins to pick up speed! A nearby tower breaks away and trails behind the island!
Dawn approaches overhead. The shallow lake of the belfry grounds approaches below!
What will you do?
Waving a hand in the air, Arthur summons his mage hand by the crown piece left by the Sovereign. It grabs onto it and starts dragging it back towards Arthur and the anvil.
I'm not sure if this wound start any initiative thing with Gladdinore, so not completing the action, just initiating it
A minute ago she would have done something, but now she’s sided with Kirina, so it’s up to @kime to intervene or not.
So, are you giving your shards to Arthur, who has the hammer that can destroy or forge something from the shards?
Kirina removes the shard of her crown and passes out to Arthur. "Let's make something new."
3DS Friend Code: 3110-5393-4113
Steam profile
The half-giant solemnly agrees.
“Let this be the end of my father’s lineage, and the beginning of a new era.”
Arthur now has the large base of the crown, Kirina and Gladdinorre’s shard on the anvil.
Unbeknownst to you all, the barrier of fog has fallen away, and demons are rushing out into the wider world. They seek its end, to cut it from the tree before the stars descend. They will retreat only if they know the star-spawned horrors cannot reach this world.
"Whatever form it takes, let it be done."
Geth roll 1d20+3 "I Know It Was You, Fredo"
Edit -
@Zomro
@kime
@AustinP0027
—
The Forging of a New Age
Arthur stands before the anvil, hammer in hand. The shards illuminate his face, not so young, a man, a wizard of great renown. His hair begins to rise on the wind, for this island is breaking apart as it falls to the land below. He is flanked on his right by Solomon. To his left, almost leaning over his shoulder, Gruush is poised. Kirina looks him in the eye from across the anvil. Gladdinore has turned from you all, her back to Kirina. Alzav is slumped nearby, alive but exhausted, quiet, pensive.
It is clear that Gruush has a knife ready to stab Arthur in the back should things go afoul, but he does not have a surprise round to do so. It will be a matter of rolling initiative, and if Arthur is faster Gruush will not act in time. Arthur will succeed and our story will come to a close.
If Gruush attacks, it will count as a sneak attack, and that will be our ending, as moments after the island will impact the ground. The forging so interrupted will destroy the shards. Arthur, if alive and willing, may cast feather fall to save you all.
Arthur! You raise the hammer high! Answer now:
What form will the new object of power take, and what does that form represent?
Must you willingly seek out the power of the stars, or settle for what remains in these shards, or will you offer this new object to another? If you seek their power as the Sovereign once did you will be unmatched in might, but the demons will not stop their march. You would have to fight them forever, or until the stars finally subsume everything. With only the power granted by these shards forged anew, you would still be the most powerful man alive, but men can die. If offered to another, they must accept, for there is no time left.
Will you once again place a fog barrier around this land, or allow the world to again learn deeper magics? In addition, if you leave the barrier down those descended from the other races such as giants will slowly return to their ancient shapes over many generations. Bringing the barrier back up will leave the wider world to humanity.
Arthur! Make a Wisdom saving throw…
Finally, to reiterate, whatever you say now might be undone if Gruush chooses to attack and rolls higher than you on initiative, but if not, this is how it goes. Post as if you’ve already won.
Arthur raises the hammer after extracting his own shard. He is thinking of a chain like he has said aloud. But as the hammer reigns down, he is lost in the work, overcome by the magic. The shape takes form slowly, flattened and then slowly more square shaped. In the end, the Wizard has unintentionally shaped the power into the shape of a book.
Gone is the representation of a ruler over all as it was with the crown. The new age will be lead by power in the form of knowledge. Knowledge for the one holding the book, knowledge able to be given out, knowledge of how to hold back the demons and the stars at the same time.
Without hesitation, when the book is forged, Arthur picks it up. He hadn't known it was this exact ending, but he had entered the mists in search of power and knowledge. And now, with the vast amount of it right in front of him, he picks it up with confidence.
He will save this world, save his companions, save those that can't save themselves. He will reject the stars and their corrupted promises. He has seen that world first hand, and he knows it has no place in this realm. He doesn't know if the shards have enough power to fight both the Starspawn and the demons, but he will find out.
As easy as it would be to raise the fog, Arthur refuses to do so. The world must learn if it is to survive. He will deal with the repercussions of that over time, but just as he sought knowledge, so must this world.
Geth, roll 1d20+5 for WIS Saving Throw
Geth just plain doesn't want anyone to roll well anymore.
Excited to see what happens
3DS Friend Code: 3110-5393-4113
Steam profile
The island quakes with each strike of the hammer. The shards become molten hot, forcing all away with the heat! Only Arthur endures it, becoming brilliant against it, being forged along with it.
When he is done, he is the Hierophant.
—
A slim pillar is all that remains on the island as it gently comes to rest before the belfry ruins. The sun rises over the world, long shadows reaching out to its four corners. Demons cower from the light, shivering against some primordial call—return, return—and so, their march is over. Bewildered villagers creep from their hiding places, kingdoms put to ruin in but one night. They would rebuild, many survived the chaos.
Yet, there are demons who remain. Vigil keepers for a death foretold. In the darkest pits, the furthest wastes, the beings come to be known as seers. Fools and those all too wise seek them out in the coming centuries in greater numbers…
—
The Age of Knowledge begins with splendours, both those dredged up from the forgotten depths and those made new, breakthroughs in understanding. Whispers of the Tree grow louder in the halls of wizards with each passing year. So too are the gods laid bare, the paths to approach the gnarled dragon and the guiding star, while false idols are spurned. Kingdoms of old fall and republics rise. No more are sorcerers hunted in the desert realms. No more are wars fought for things so petty as food and water.
—
Yet, the smallest of things, stardust ticks and flickering flames of the void, begin to creep through as the age matures. They would be forced into material forms to survive, and to most they would be mere monsters, just one more beast of strange properties lurking in the wilds, where magic has grown rotten.
—
The lineages of the world once again free, humanity’s reign ended, but they were not extinguished. They learned to live among their kin, and became masters, equals and servants of them in fair measure. Giants returned, and those from the mountains, soon called bugbears and dwarves by men, shared life with them, and with elves, trolls and more. They truly were kin, but each different in kind.
Magic was in all places as this age drew so long few knew the full extent of the past, and though the nights drew longer, hundreds of years passed with nought but wonder and wealth—at least for those who’s intelligence deserved them thus. Wizard now was the word used in place of king.
—
“The Hierophant?”, a wrinkled old man says, rubbing his brow where his glasses so often rested, “I cannot say if they are good, but at the 93rd century of their age, this world as yet remains…”
A child on his knee brightens, “Then they must be good!”
The sun begins to set outside.
“Grandfather, what do you suppose they dream of at night?”
—
The End!
For the rest of you, what did you do with your lives, now the demons are gone, the world is open and you’re all jacked as Hell?
P.S is Gruush immortal? Up to you!
In fact, there might be something that can help...
Solomon sees the Crown begin to take its new shape, immediately recognizable because of the individual creating it. To share knowledge, to teach, to care; they are noble pursuits.
However a thought gnaws at the back of Solomon's mind. Knowledge can just as easily be hoarded. Solomon fights back the instinct to interrupt the forging, leaving his trust in the wizard. Solomon removes a journal, well worn from travel and use. A journal filled with notes and memories, the words written by a young scholar and illustrated by an old soldier.
Solomon holds the journal up in front of Arthur, to remind him of what they had accomplished as comrades, as friends.
Feel free to chat amongst yourselves if you wish, but I gotta book!
Solomon had sworn that he would look after the young wizard Arthur, and the old knight was true to his word. Even though Arthur had become the Hierophant, Solomon still saw him as the optimistic and bright lad he had met after crossing the fog and he hoped that his presence might keep Arthur's humanity intact, a hope he kept, perhaps in vain.
Many sought out the Hierophant, seeking His wisdom, and there were some who sought forbidden or profane knowledge. As the Guardian of the Hierophant, Solomon, now known as the Judge Knight, would appraise those seeking audience to see if they were worthy of beseeching the Hierophant. Most honored the knight's judgment, but there were some who thought they could overcome the old knight, their arms and armor were kept on display as a warning to those who would attempt such foolishness.
Solomon himself only sought audience with the Hierophant once, when age had fully gripped him and his hair was white and his frame had shrunk with time. It was not to gain knowledge or power, or to discover the secrets of the cosmos. It was only to present the Hierophant with a gift; a simple, leather bound journal, the pages yellowed and the leather worn with age. The pages were filled with notes and observations collected during a grand and perilous journey, each entry was accompanied by an illustration, only made possible by a gift left behind by a long departed spirit. On the inside cover of the journal was a short note written in a slightly unsteady hand, one which was wracked with the aches and pains of age as well as numerous battles from the past. The note was short; Arthur, I vowed to protect you, and my word is my bond. Should you have need of me, just call upon my name.
After that audience, the old knight was laid to rest, his body having succumbed to age. Solomon was buried in a simple stone sarcophagus in the ruins of an old belfry, the only adornment being an old holy symbol and a well maintained greatsword. Above the sarcophagus, in what would have been the bell tower, an owl perched above, watching those who might come and see the knight's grave. None knew how old the owl truly was, it never seemed to age, perhaps because of the magic that had once altered his form into that of a man or because of the magic of the Beyond itself.
At the base of the sarcophagus was a plaque dedicated to the knight who rested within. It said:
Here lies Solomon Felhand, Devotee of Arora, Sword of Retribution, the Judge Knight.
Of all his titles, there is one he held in highest esteem; Friend.