Wintermoor

Disclaimer: I OWN THE WORLD, nah I’m just joking… actually I own the world you are about to read about; you see I created it. So anyway, the only things I need to add a disclaimer for are for the possible creatures that are the property of someone else.

More Confusion than Answers.

Destin groggily awoke, his vision blurred a bit and his mind was still in a distant state. Stumbling slowly out of the comfortable bed he picked his robes up from their spot hanging on the wall, pulling them on he tried to think and remember where he was.
A sudden knock upon his door brought him the rest of the way awake, the noise acted as the catalyst to his brains dead chemical state.
“Destin,” a familiar voice called from behind the oaken barrier, “I am sorry to wake you so early, but there are some persons you need to meet.”
“Yeah ok Inixyllia,” Destin grumbled, “Give me a minute to find where I left all my clothes. I’ll be right out after that.”
As Destin hastily dressed, Inixyllia could be heard walking somewhere else in the apartment. Destin opened the door and walked out while still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“What would you like for breakfast? I took the liberty of buying a few days worth of provisions for you.” Inixyllia moved about the strange devices in the kitchen as he spoke.
“Oh thanks, I wanted to ask you about that…” Destin watched in sleepy amazement as Inixyllia moved about looking for something in the pantry. “Exactly what is all this stuff?”
“Oh that’s right…” Inixyllia looked up from the strange metal cabinet, “Well this thing is an Icebox, and there is magic involved in cooling the lower compartment and freezing the upper compartment.”
Inixyllia went through the descriptions of the other strange devices; a machine that heated using a complex spell that transferred heat through the air, another that used controlled flames to allow constant cooking, yet another that used heated panels to evenly cook flat foods. As he explained them Destin grasped the concepts rather easily, they were merely logical applications of magic that most mages never took the time to create.
“Anyway, you will see much more things like this throughout Wintermoor. Mages here spend so much time bored out of their wits they create the most entertaining things.”
A loud knock on the door that led to the stair well was heard; Destin blinked and went to answer it. He was shocked to see an odd looking man standing with a small group of very confused people.
“Well can I come in?” the man asked.
“Equifax?” Destin queried. He looked at the strange man; he was tall and well built with silver hair and deep crimson eyes. His clothing was that of a priest; a large holy symbol hung loosely from a heavy silver chain upon his neck, the symbol was a simple white star with eight points. The symbol closely resembled the one upon Inixyllia’s robes, but his robes were snow white compared to the tawny color of Inixyllia’s.
“Yes, now can I come in?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, yes come in.”
“Thanks. Ok folks, this will be your new home.” Equifax said as he ushered the five people in the common room. “This rather interesting man is Destin Fireflinger.”
Equifax motioned toward Destin, then to a large rather well armed Minotaur in the front of the group. “This is Bramin, a warrior of some skill.”
Bramin stood some nine feet tall; his very broad build suggested an insane level of strength, he wore a very tattered chain mail shirt, a simple wide hide belt, and a rather moldy looking loin cloth. A huge brass ring pierced his nostrils; his bovine-countenance oddly contrasted the intense stare of his yellow eyes.
“This young man is…” Equifax looked about in confusion and searched the room for something. Equifax sighed and reached into a shadow beside the door, pulling out a rather small built man. “As I was saying, this is Myrten Moondown. If you can’t guess what he is I’ll have Bramin explain.” Bramin gave Equifax a stupefied look then shrugged.
The wiry thief smiled, his mustache lifted with is grin giving him a comical appearance. He had deeply tanned skin suggesting some relation to a nomadic desert people. His hair was stark black and his brown eyes twinkled with mischief. He wore a concealing grey tabard, a simple black cloak, and soft leather breeches. Many pouches lined his heavily made belt, and a large falchion was secured rather secretly between his cloak and tabard. He did an acrobatic flip into the room and landed in a sitting position on one of the couches in the central room.
As Equifax sighed at Myrten’s actions, he motioned toward a heavily armored figure that was standing off to the left of the large minotaur. The figure stood six inches taller than the minotaur, but was built less bulkily. The armor he wore concealed every portion of his body save his eyes which shined like golden fire from the darkened confines of the helmet. The armor was made up to look like a dragons scales, even the helmet had a draconic shape and look to it. Large golden wings were furled behind his back and a golden scaled tail was wrapped casually about his waist. The armored man carried a simple metal shield and an ornate long sword, both hung between his wings.
“This is Erin of the Golden Knights.” Equifax motioned to the man to his left, “This is Alaric Silksteel.”
A medium built man of some thirty winters dressed in sand-scorched plate armor with a heavy blunt headed mace. His weathered face made his stark blue eyes stand out with a wisdom and intelligence that bespoke of a great past. While he bore no visible holy symbol, it was quite obvious that he was a cleric of some religious order.
The next man that Equifax introduced looked remarkably like Alaric, “This is Everard Silksteel, Alaric’s twin brother.” Unlike his heavily armored brother, Everard wore a sleek dark metal chain shirt with leather armor covering his legs and arms. His entire outfit marked him as a fighter of some type but not your average front line warrior. Everard bore a large steel shield over his back, and an oddly made gauntlet covering his right wrist and hand. He winked at Destin then disappeared from view completely, as this happened Myrten stood and faded from view as well.
“Bah, let them go play in the shadows.” Alaric stated flatly, “I want some food, anyone want a diced Anhkeg omelet?”
Destin blanched “You *eat* Anhkeg?!”
“Yeah, I have found it tastes much like chicken.” A smug grin crossed his face, “Just a bit harder to kill.”
A few of the gathered adventurers opted to try the interesting meal, Destin however went ghostly white as he watched Alaric strip the metallic chitin from a fairly fresh Anhkeg leg. Alaric whistled what seemed to be a bawdy tavern song and began pulling the muscle from the gigantic insect’s leg shells.
Equifax coughed politely, “This is Captain Lui of Wintermoor’s famed Dragon Knights. One of their finest warriors, he has been chosen to guide you while you are in Winter and aid you if you need him.”
A six foot tall man in complete plate armor walked into the room, his ornate armor was done to appear to be the scales of a silver dragon. His helmet even had a draconic countenance, oddly contrasted by the light yellow tint of his skin. Lui’s brown angular eyes bespoke life in harsh conditions, while his friendly smile denoted his mirth.
“It is an honor to meet such warriors and sages as yourselves,” Lui managed a full bow in the heavy metal armor, “I am Lui Bei, warrior of the Silver Council, and descendant of the Sun Dynasty.”

~Elsewhere in Winter~

A beautiful woman stood over a shining altar, the magic of the altar slowly drifting upward to her outstretched hands. Her attire was simple white robes marked with the symbol of Isis, goddess of beauty and magic.
“Oh great lord Set, grant me thy blessing. I have heeded your call, this temple is now yours. Please oh master of the scales, command me and your will shall be done.”
Images assaulted her mind, her god was pleased with the subversion of the Prime Temple of Isis, she saw the glory she would receive for her actions. However, soon the images became darker and more commanding. She saw seven heroes, men of great strength and power, who had been called to this plane at the behest of some other power. This angered the dark god, he did not want these heroes killed; nay killing was too good for these bastions of light. He wanted them for his own, and he began to show her what she was to do in his plans.

-Well there ends the Third Chapter of Wintermoor. Yep I am a right Bastige, leaving you hanging with such an obvious ominous plot hook. One thing I would like to cover, the names of these ‘heroes’, I use that term lightly on them… are the ideas of their creators, I struck out two of the previous players in the original campaign at their behest. I replaced those two with characters that I have used as NPC’s before.