Play Now Login Create Account
illyriad
  New Posts New Posts RSS Feed - Never Ending Tale
  FAQ FAQ  Forum Search   Register Register  Login Login

Topic ClosedNever Ending Tale

 Post Reply Post Reply
Author
Aneirin View Drop Down
Wordsmith
Wordsmith
Avatar

Joined: 28 Apr 2011
Status: Offline
Points: 186
Direct Link To This Post Topic: Never Ending Tale
    Posted: 23 May 2011 at 16:04
This is a story with a difference in that everyone can contribute a post. Players can make more than one post but they CANNOT make consecutive posts. In this way we will all be able to have fun making up the story as we go along. Each post must take up where it's predecessor left off and should where possible make references to the Lore and and geography of the regions of Illyriad. Try and make it as funny as possible and refer to characters and  actual events that have taken place. 

The story concerns a trial that is taking place in the halls of one of King Sigurdsen's lowly courts where miscreants of the realm are brought before the bench to answer for their misdemeanours. I shall start by making the first post and urge anyone and everyone to carry on where I left off....

The Trial Of A Troll Impersonator (Alleged)

INTRODUCTION
The Assizes of the Empirica were a foreboding building set in the regional town of Busillis in Lucerna. The circuit hearings were always a popular affair with the locals and a high point of the social calendar for the many good folk of the Lucerna. Here, once every quarter, they could pack the kids in the cart, throw in some loaves of bread and a keg of best dwarven ale and go off to town to take in the show, as the trial was referred to, and the sights. 

The "sights" were hugely popular. Here the family could entertain themselves by throwing rotting matter at those held in the stocks; witness or even take part in a flogging or ducking (gender specific) and occasionally...ever so ocassionally enjoy the special treat of an execution. The popularity of punsihments tended to vary according to the race or faction of the audience. Hanging drawing and quartering always attracted the brothers of the Empirica whilst the discerning Elf might take discreet delight in the wrack stretching of dwarves which the elves tended to view as  a humane corrective procedure.  In contrast the dwarves would flock to and fight over the front seats whenever an "Ear Cropping" was to be had.

The scene is set then for the trial of an elf from Keshalia who was accused of the most shocking abomination of "Troll Impersonation" (with intent to cause harm by way of improper conduct).

THE JUDGE
The proceedings were to be presided over by the Circuit judge for Eastern Illryiad. The right Honourable Sir Hugh Jars was a man of enormous proportions and an unpredictable reputation. He had held the position for 42 years; dispensing the King's justice and discharging judgements as he saw fit. He was however of a venerable age; rather deaf and prone to bouts of amnesia. When not presiding over Court proceedings, the right honourable gentleman usually indulged himself with succulent and exotic game pies washed down with goblets of the finest wines in the land.

To return to the trial in question in a court that was packed to the rafters with persons who had travelled far and wide. Sir Hugh Jars entered the Court and eased his distinctly large frame in to an equally large but creaking old oak chair at the head of the Court whilst the clerks, lawyers and the defendant elf were positioned in the centre aisle before him.  Sir Hugh then lifted his gavel and slammed it three times against the bar of the bench at which; the cacophony of noise and chatter immediately fell slient. All eyes fell upon the Elf standing in the centre with naught but a satchel at his side. The prosecutor looking down his nose noticed that this elf was "utterly no irritatingly calm and yes, was that an insolent smile? Indeed it was. Such impudence". The prosecutor was going to feel a great deal of satisfaction when Sir Hugh dealt with this one.

JUSTICE IS A FINE PIE
"The clerk of the Court will now read the charges laid before the bench." thundered the old judge at which point a long list of alleged crimes were  read out in such rapid fashion that it was impossible to follow. Before the list had finished however the old judge had nodded off and had to be gently prodded by the clerk, a gnome of diminutive stature, into a waking state of consciousness. 

Sir Hugh then addressed the impudent elf "Aneirin of Keshaila son of Redfist, son of Arawn and Ossian and Bragdush the bald an... what the deuce is this ? How can one elf have 5 fathers and this last name is that of an orc" Sir Hugh's jaundiced gaze first settled on the clerk who visibly shrank even further than it is possible for a gnome to shrink. 

Sir Hugh then turned back to Aneirin and said "What is the meaning of this and it had better be good?" Aneirin replied immediately with due deference. " Well now your honour thereby hangs the tale. However,  your magnificence, before I explain I need to show you these uhmm exhibits that I have in my bag" and before the town watch could stop him he produce 6 steaming hot pheasant and peacock pies and a flagon of impeccable Lucerna Red. These he placed directly before the already salivating lips of the most senior Court judge in all Lucerna. 

By now the judge was drooling and without further ado he brought his gavel down for one more time and declared " Court is adjourned the defendant and I shall retire to my chambers to uhmm savour... I mean examine this evidence in detail.....

Is Aneirin innocent or is he a worthless rogue who likes to dress in troll's clothing only you can decide?Write on dear reader write on....
 


Edited by Aneirin - 23 May 2011 at 16:05
Back to Top
Createure View Drop Down
Postmaster General
Postmaster General
Avatar

Joined: 07 Apr 2010
Location: uk
Status: Offline
Points: 1191
Direct Link To This Post Posted: 23 May 2011 at 23:41
Meanwhile a handful of Kobold Commanders sit in a tavern on the other side of town. The Orcs from Tor Carrock are visiting to oversee the sale of cattle and caravans of chain maille and other equipment. The sale has gone well, the presence of these brutes in the auction houses and markets, or even the rumour of their presence has done favourable things to  prices, at least from the Orcs perpective. The revenues from the sale of these goods is mostly intended to return with the greenskins to Carrock for the upkeep of the mountain tribes, but first a little celebration is in order. Their commander, a good humoured Orc (if such a thing exists) by the name of Createure, is buying drinks. Nobody in the tavern is refusing. You don't say "no" to an Orc who isn't trying to kill you. Besides... free beer!

A particularly drunk Dwarf is quaffing back weak Lucernan lager as fast as the Orcs are buying it, matching the greenskins pint for pint. He is quite tall for a Dwarf and clean shaven. He has been 'fixing' trades for the band and and as such, has eyes and ears all over the town. He tells a tale of a trial currently underway in the Assizes.

"Well you shee... theresh thish judge... goes by the name of 'Big Arsh', or something like that... everyone knowsh hees currupt but no onesh too bothered, shee he only doesh cases from the outlying shettlementsh, shmall time crooks, domeshtic dishputes an dishrupting the peas... you get the idea? he takes shmall bribesh to keep hish pocketsh and hish belly full and the chambers turn a blind eye cosh Big Arsh takesh the fall for unpopular verdicts when shome contravershial cases turn up."

The dwarf swills his words down with another pint an collapses off his stool. The Orc ponders the words of his inebriate fixer... perhaps there could be an 'interest' in this alleged bribe. Who knows what the careful placement of a few bulky Kobolds in the right place at the right time could achieve? He has heard that the elven 'culprit' in question has earned somewhat of a name for himself: by all accounts he is effete and exceedingly eloquent, but also something of a con-artist and an unpopular one at that, probably has a bit of gold around to sweeten the judge. The Orc leader doesn't consider himself in need of the gold - but there has got to be more amusing ways to earn the stuff simple trading. The leader lets out a chulkle as he swallows the last of his pint and motions to his men to leave the tavern.
Back to Top
Aneirin View Drop Down
Wordsmith
Wordsmith
Avatar

Joined: 28 Apr 2011
Status: Offline
Points: 186
Direct Link To This Post Posted: 24 May 2011 at 13:12


Thanks Createure for leaving me with an open ending instead of finishing me off in the first post  lol. The story continues...
 
Next to the Court in the town of Busillis stands the waystation and stables of the far famed Royal Messenger Service.  Indeed King Sigurdsen maintained a stables in almost every city, town and village throughout the land. The Messenger service selected only the finest steeds from local  which were mostly sired and bred for the speed and stamina that His Majesty's Messengers required.  This particular stables contained the stallions from the Keshalian city of Ordu Kush some 3 days ride to the east and were said to be a gift to His Majesty from Tipu Khan himself.
 
Night had descended as Createure and his retinue of inebriated kobolds came level with stables he suddenly stumbled to a stop for he had suddenly experienced something quite rare amongst Orcs. Createure had an idea!

TO EAT OR NOT TO EAT. THAT IS THE QUESTION.
It must be explained that Createure was no ordinary Orc. He was a servant of the Harmeless(?) Alliance. H? as they were normally referred to,  were both powerful and feared, not least by the orcs who served in their ranks for they required the utmost obedience in all things. Now to teach an Orc obedience is no mean feat for , as everyone knows an Orc's natural instincts is to be "carnivorous"  indeed some would say that it is an overriding instinct.
 
Createure's idea was to alert his masters in Harmless(?) to the shenanigans of Aneirin and take credit for apprehending (or more correctly eating) the same.  From inside his jerkin he pulled a messenger pigeon with expression intention of letting it fly to it's roost many miles away. However the consumption of too much ale caused his stomach to rumble and with an instinctive reaction, caught in a moment of helplessness, Createure did something that his masters (and mistresses) would later make him regret. He bit the head off the pigeon and swallowed it whole. 
 
Spitting feathers and in a high mood of Orcish bloodlust the Commander and his kobold cohort lurched forward towards the Court House and as they approrached the entrance were met by a single solitary figure wearing glasses.
 
STOP! IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!
As a gnome the Clerk to the Circuit Court of Busillius took his job and position seriously. How dare these drunken ruffians treat the Court with such contempt he thought.  As the Orc Commander staggered towards him the bespectacled Clerk drew himself to his full height of  2-11 and commanded them to Stop in the name of the Law!
 
Createure belched and asked "Who be you?" to which the gnome answered those fateful words. My name is Parry Hotter ... At this the Orc let out a howl of laughter, picked the gnome took several lifesize bites out of his latest snack and threw the rest to thekobolds. With that Createure kicked in the entrance doors and marched inside ...
 
Outside - from the corner of the waystation, a shadowy figure emerged and unfurled his elven cloak. He gave a low mewling whistle towards the stallions of Ordu Kush. They, in turn gave an affectionate whinny and trotted to wards the figure.  After nuzzling six of the proud beasts in greeting Aneirin led them Ordu Kush fashion ie without bridle and saddle to the edge of town. He mounted the first and sped off with the others following like the winds of the plains from whence they came. Across the fields and meadows they sped, in high spirits for rider and steeds were free and heading  home ...
 
…but is our rogue really free. Will he be waylaid along the long roads and ways to Keshalia and by whom?  Only you can decide that dear reader. Only you can decide!



Edited by Aneirin - 29 Jul 2011 at 11:52
Back to Top
Aneirin View Drop Down
Wordsmith
Wordsmith
Avatar

Joined: 28 Apr 2011
Status: Offline
Points: 186
Direct Link To This Post Posted: 29 Jul 2011 at 12:20
THE TROLLHUNTERS
In the south eastern part of Norweld lies the small city of an unassuming and reclusive Lord. The city itself appears  as unremarkable as it's Lord and is often overlooked  by travellers  in those parts - and yet if those same travellers new the secret that lay within those walls they would flock from miles around with petitions seeking to remedy the injustices that the Royal Courts had failed to quell.  Unbeknown to them this city housed the headquarters of  "The Trollhunters" . A group of highly trained elite indivdulals who were devoted to their master and dedicated to ridding Illyriad of this pestinential vermin. This society did not have Royal Approval  nor were they faction of King Sigurds Court. They were totally independant and set up for the benefit of the peoples of Illyriad. They were secretive, incorrputable ( well some of the time) and solved the crimes that Royal Courts failed to deal with. Consequently they were held in high regard by the ordinary folk of Illyriad   and their founder was seen as something of a super hero amongst the peasantry.  But who he and they were in real life was a closely guarded secret.
His reputation had gained a growing respect across Illyriad for he was known as The TrollFinder General and when he discovered  a troll in the neighbourhood you could be sure that his "special agent" would pursue it to the end of Illyriad and beyond....but who was this mysterious masked Super Hero and how had come by his present reputation...?


Edited by Aneirin - 03 Aug 2011 at 10:51
Back to Top
Aneirin View Drop Down
Wordsmith
Wordsmith
Avatar

Joined: 28 Apr 2011
Status: Offline
Points: 186
Direct Link To This Post Posted: 03 Aug 2011 at 10:58
THE SPECIAL AGENT
 
Being a member of the Secret Society of Trollhunters was a special calling open only to a dedicated following of special individuals. Men and women dedicated to tracking, trapping and taking down some of the most irritating, irksome  individuals in Illyriad.
Now as every good boy and girl knows, trolls are individuals for whom the normal methods of law abiding decency  are not enough to curb their no good spamming, spying, sink stopping activities. Therefore the Trollhunters,  that special breed of super heroes, came into being to track down these low life n'er do wells and put 'em outta businezz
The Trollfinder General had recently received two commissions to  remove two of the most notorious villains to plague the fair forums of Illyriad. None other than Lionz Heartz and Aneirin. As he sat in his tower overlooking the small city of walkways and waterfalls in Norweld; The Trollfinder General knew that these assignments would require his top agent to fulfil. An agent whose mean relentless reputation had preceded him and whose record was exemplary except for  a ... ahem... minor haliotosis issue. .
Just as he was contemplating this the door to his apartments flew open to reveal a tall man dressed in a poncho  and wearing a stetson. He was smoking a cheroot and carrying a crossbow which pointed directly at the Generals chest. The stranger said these immortal words.   
"I know what you're thinking...Do ya feel lucky? Well do ya? Punk!"
 It was none other than speacial agent himself   - BADBREATH HARRY
The TrollFinder General said. "Cut the dramatic's Harry this ain't SFPD ya know. I got two perps that need to be taken down. Only you can do it, Harry but I don't want a mess left like the last time when you crashed though King Sigurdsen's private Harem chasing that ogre ya understand. Or this time I'll have ya badge!"
Harry narrowed his eyes at this but he held back his indignation " Yes boss"  he grunted and winked
BADBREATH HARRY was on the case Wink


Edited by Aneirin - 03 Aug 2011 at 14:18
Back to Top
Dhenna View Drop Down
Wordsmith
Wordsmith
Avatar

Joined: 09 Jun 2011
Location: Denmark
Status: Offline
Points: 156
Direct Link To This Post Posted: 19 Aug 2011 at 19:17
I'm going to be so sad if you don't keep this going, Aneirin! It's a masterpiece!
Back to Top
(EOM) Harry View Drop Down
Forum Warrior
Forum Warrior
Avatar

Joined: 06 Oct 2010
Status: Offline
Points: 283
Direct Link To This Post Posted: 19 Aug 2011 at 19:34
Read this for the first time and noticed i was in here for some odd reason, Aneirin if your planning to write the whole LH saga, i may just abandon all hope of this game ;)
Fool's watch the land when the problem is in the heart.
Back to Top
 Post Reply Post Reply
  Share Topic   

Forum Jump Forum Permissions View Drop Down

Forum Software by Web Wiz Forums® version 11.10
Copyright ©2001-2017 Web Wiz Ltd.