Hilde Ironhand 4

A series played using Quill: Coal & Parchment and Quill Quest: The Warlord's Downfall. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

The Elven Princess

A letter ghost-written by Hilde on behalf of a Prince in need and delivered by hand.

Beloved Princess Elenda,

When you visited the Court these past weeks I was so entranced by your beauty. I longed to speak with you but the loathsome tyrannical King forbade me. Thus I send this missive to you in the hope of wooing you from afar.

I beseech you to look within your heart to find if my flame of passion is mirrored therein. If so, I would ask you to elope with haste with me to the Shimmering Lands. There we could be together and start a new life.

Truly you are the fairest of all elvenkind and the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Would that we could be together, the half-even offspring of our union would be enchanting to behold. And I'm sure we'd find our dynasty to be just and fair rulers of the Shimmering Lands.

I lie awake each night since your departure, struggling in vain to recall the vibrancy of your beauty. Alas, like the delicate sun orchid, the memory of your face fades in the long winter of your absence. Would that you would return to me that I might know spring again.

One final time, Elenda, I ask you to be with me. Your fair skin will shimmer with the light of the... Shimmering Lands. Together we shall shine our love for all to see.

Yours eternally

Winslow Herrington, Prince of Cornbury

Under Hilde's pen the Prince comes off far too much like a desperate stalker for Princess Elenda's taste. She questions Hilde until she's sure that Winslow merely chose his ghost-writer poorly and Hilde is not a potential kidnapper. Hilde is released with a small amount of compensation and vows never to ghost write another love letter as long as she lives.

Hilde Ironhand 3

A series played using Quill: Coal & Parchment and Quill Quest: The Warlord's Downfall. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

Brintha the Warrior

Mighty Brintha, whose legend is beyond redeem,

I write to you of a great evil. I have learned of an ancient and powerful evil that needs great heroes to defeat it.

Your tactical prowess is beyond renown so I write to you that you might lend your keen intellect to our cause. A band of heroes needs a cunning leader to guide them to triumph.

The evil of the black tower near Swanvale is plaguing the region and will only spread if left unchecked. I have battled the symptoms but the cause eluded me. We need a mighty warrior such as yourself.

Mighty Brintha, whose power has no equal and wields the legendary blade Blackfang. You are needed to save not just a town, but perhaps all of us.

I cannot guarantee your safety in what will no doubt be an epic confrontation. You and the others who are brave enough to answer the call will live forever in the legends of future generations.

Hilde Ironhand

Hilde's shameless letter to her idol has great effect. Brintha is on standby in the Swanvale tavern and contacted another hero to prime him for Hilde's message.

Hilde Ironhand 2

A series played using Quill: Coal & Parchment and Quill Quest: The Warlord's Downfall. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

Gunr's Story

Gunr, my old friend,

How have the years been treating you? It feels like only yesterday that we were delving into every tunnel and cavern we could find. I was speaking with Aevi recently and they reminded me of our past exploits.

I've been following the news from the scouts as best I can, my own journeys have been keeping me occupied of late. I do, however, often hear tales of the world-famous Gunr, the greatest scout dwarvenkind has ever known. You must be so proud of all your achievements and have many a grand tale to tell.

Remember the time we were out near Eaglecroft? We'd been scouting for new veins of iron and stumbled across that network of passages. It took us a week, but we eventually mapped them.

The passages were part natural formation and part ancient earthwork. It was like nothing we'd seen before, I've still not seen anything like it. Do you remember the waterfall-like vein of gleaming copper? Such a great find.

I've heard rumours from the people of Swanvale that there is a labyrinth beneath the local forest. From their descriptions it could be the same origin as the ones we found - how exciting. I'm planning a trip and it would be great to have you with me - just like old times.

Hilde.

Gunr was convinced to at least meet Hilde for a drink to reminisce. Drinks became a few rounds of cards but it was clear that Gunr's heart wasn't in a long-term expedition. Glad she'd at least lifted his spirits for an evening, Hilde left with her winnings.

Hilde Ironhand 1

 A series played using Quill: Coal & Parchment and Quill Quest: The Warlord's Downfall. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

The Demon-Haunted Tower

Esteemed Guhlo, Keeper of Tomes,

I trust that this letter finds you in good health. I write to you regarding a matter of great mystery and urgency that is taking place in a nearby settlement. It is my sincerest hope that your wisdom and generosity will save these poor people from the plight that assails them.

People are going missing in the night, vanished from their beds and never seen again. Animals are found dead, the local livestock dwindles in number. Their fields are filled with withered dead crops, their livelihood and that of the kingdom is threatened by this menace.

At the centre of this peril stands a black building. It is said that the architect of this evil resides within, plotting an escalating series of calamities. Their identity is unknown, but what is known is that they must be stopped.

None have able to approach the tower and survive, all who have attempted have died. It is as if the structure is shielded with some kind of magic defence that denies all entry. Perhaps there is a text in your collection that might hold the answer to these wards?

I know that you are extremely protective of your charges, and with good reason for it is the greatest collection of arcane works in the land. There is none better than yourself to protect them, being a weaver of magics with no equal. I trust that you will see fit to share your knowledge in this matter.

Hilde Ironhand.

Guhlo didn't reply to the letter, Hilde's handwriting was too illegible and her flattery too overt. She ventured to Swanvale nonetheless and fought off some of the malevolent symptoms. She couldn't address the cause but she gave the villagers some respite. When she returned home she calculated that she'd made a small profit.

Moonrise - Act 1

A series played using Anamnesis. This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

Shadow: The Moon (Anxiety, Illusion, Intuition)

ACT 1: PENTACLES

SCENE 1: FOUR OF PENTACLES

My eyes snapped open suddenly and I saw stone high above me. I woke up laid out on a stone slab in what appeared to be a cave overlooking the sea. The floor was worn smooth by the passage of feet but the curved walls and ceiling retained their rough-hewn texture. I eased myself down from the slab, testing my legs against my weight and finding that I could stand firm by myself. I cautiously walked towards the mouth of the cave, it opened directly onto the cliff face and I could see the waves crashing against the rocks below. A thin ledge ran left to right across the cave mouth, leading to narrow steps carved into the cliff face that reached upward to the clifftop above.

As I took in my surroundings I realised that I was wearing a loose sheet - a shroud? It had slipped from my shoulders and as I pulled it back around them I noticed a tattoo emblazoned across my chest. In the centre was a stylised heart with a crown atop it. Spreading out from around it were dozens of roses, gradually shrinking in size until the reached my shoulders. I placed my hand over my heart, both the tattoo and my actual heart, and felt the latter hammering in my chest. I frantically examined myself more thoroughly, wondering if I had any other tattoos; I didn't find any in places that I could see without a mirror. Wrapping the sheet around me more securely, I tentatively edged back to the mouth of the cave to further observe my surroundings.

SCENE 2: FIVE OF PENTACLES

I took a deep breath, the salty sea air filling my lungs, and something else underneath it. The baking scent of earth, perhaps ceramic, on a hot day. As the wind ruffled the sheet around me I felt my thoughts carried further. Images of a similar scene filled my mind, but in this other vista I stood on a veranda with a marble balustrade. I felt the heat of the tiles beneath my feet, the sun had been bearing down on them all day and had only now cooled to just this side of tolerable to stand on. Rather than the beauty of the scene, I felt a sense of anxiety and impending loss. I calmed my breathing and tried to step back from the memories in order to better examine them.

While the full details of the memories, and my own identity, still lay beyond my reach I was able to grasp that I had been worried about a loss of status and power. At the time I had been watching the calm of the ocean in the hopes that it would translate into mental calm, but the fear was persistent. Unable to quell the fear outright my grip on the balustrade's edge had tightened as I tried to force my mind to quieten. Reliving the experience I found that this time the efforts succeeded, albeit now it was unwanted, and I felt the memory slip from my mind as my thoughts stilled.

SCENE 3: KING OF PENTACLES

I turned back from the edge and walked back into the cave, toward the slab I had awakened on. In contrast to the rest of the cave the slab had clearly been carved by hand. It was hewn from the living rock of the cavern but decorated with flowers and birds. Roses and doves as far as I could tell though the dais had clearly been exposed to the elements for some time and the finer details had been worn smooth. For the first time I noticed a bundle of silk laid at the foot of the dais, purple silk held down by the weight of some object wrapped in it's folds. I cautiously approached it, kneeling to feel the parcel in my hands. Beneath the soft, smooth silk I felt something hard and rough. After a tentative lift revealed the item was light enough to carry, I placed it on the dais and slowly unwrapped it.

At the heart of the unfurled silk sat a crown. A crudely wrought ring of iron with jagged, cruel, spines arrayed along one side. The surface was cracked and scarred as if exposed to a great heat and then cooled too quickly. Glistening detailing had been applied to create a delicate web of inlaid gold. For a time I stood in quiet contemplation. The crown stirred memories but they stayed at the edge of my awareness, shrouded in  the same looming dread from my earlier recollection. Hand trembling slightly, I reached out slowly before darting fingers made brief contact. The crown sat there unfazed, but I caught a glimpse of what for a moment looked like a bloody fingerprint on the rim.