Tag Archives: Crimson Calling

A River Of Lost Souls Ahead

Posted on by
3

Zrithrak has been driven from Rask. Alexis has exclaimed that Hood had come to claim the spirit while holding a fly in his hands. Since those moments the group has gathered their things and barely started toward Ghanil again. Packs shifted, gear checked, the wagon creaking along. Alexis addresses the group.

“I keep circling back to that soothsayer—Ness Brightleaf.” He waves absently, not toward anywhere in particular, just back into memory.

“Something like: ‘Ahead of me, a river of lost souls. Some spirits refuse to sleep. The voices of the dead yearn for rest. Their whispers bring dark tidings.’” He shrugs, not claiming perfect recall. “Or close enough.”

The copper coin keeps running over his knuckles as his gaze sweeps the line of travelers, pausing a fraction longer on Ca’armine. “Zrithrak fits—soul that wouldn’t sleep. But did he ever want rest? Or was he holding on?”

He gives the priest space, then presses on.

“I still think of that dwarven spirit in Dura-Intun. The one who spoke of Kobos. He was restless. Wanted Hood’s gate, wanted peace. And that city of the dead? That’s different. They’re bound by the Endless Hunger. Won’t let them rest. Zrithrak wasn’t bound like that.”

The coin flashes once, drops into his palm. “So what kept him?”

A Little Here, A Little There

Posted on by
3

Eight days out from Ghanil, four since driving Zrithrak from Rask, the group settled in around the fire. Alexis sat half-lit at the edge, the brim of his hat dropping shadow across his eyes. A copper coin rolled steady over his knuckles, flashing, disappearing, flashing again. The red jasper at his chest shifted when he breathed, catching firelight for a blink before sliding back into dark.

He speaks without raising his voice. Mostly to Ethelred, but clearly others need to hear this as well.
“I’ve been thinking—we need to start setting caches. Supply stashes, marked so we can track them later. Something queer in each one, something that doesn’t belong—a child’s top, maybe. Close enough, we’ll find it again.”

The coin paused, balanced between thumb and finger.
“Gus will know where we left them. But if he’s not there, we’re not left blind.”

He leaned forward, letting the fire catch half his face, the rest still in shadow.
“After Ghanil, who knows? Greyfax land. Grasslands again. North of Sutheron. Every road takes something from us. Better to have reserves waiting.”

He turned the coin once more, then let it vanish into his palm.
“What do you think, friend?”

The fire cracked. The shadows shifted with it.

Who Knows About Trolls

Posted on by
2

The campfire cracked and hissed, throwing its smoke into the night air. The Crimson Calling alone around it.

Alexis sat near the flames, hat brim low, a copper coin working its way over his knuckles. Across from him, Ca’armine’s red cloak caught the firelight, while Rask sat rigid, a soldier even when still.

Ethelred’s words about troll-powder still hung in the air, fragments of theory and half-formed warnings. Alexis let them fade, then leaned forward just enough to set his shadow across the fire. His voice carried evenly, with the kind of weight that didn’t need raising.

“You’ve heard what we’ve seen,” he said. “Trolls. Powder. What it does. That’s the measure of it so far.” The coin paused between his fingers, then rolled again, catching a lick of firelight before vanishing back into shadow.

He studied the two newest men in the group, letting the silence stretch a breath longer than comfort. “What about you? Raiden’s people don’t waste time. Do they know more about this enemy?”

The fire popped. The coin clicked once against his ring before disappearing back into motion. Alexis didn’t move otherwise, just watched them across the flames, steady and expectant.

Coming Home, Again

Posted on by
1

The night before the Crimson Calling enters Sutheron.

“Tonight I stand before you not just as Alexis Laelius, renowned treasure hunter and lore seeker, but as a son returning to his beloved home city, a place where the echoes of my family’s leather working craft still resonate through the cobblestone streets.”

“As I prepare to walk those familiar avenues, I can’t help but feel a rush of memories. Memories of my father, tirelessly crafting fine leather goods with hands weathered by time and toil, trying to instill in me the value of hard work and dedication. Memories of my mother, whose gentle spirit and unwavering support guided me through the darkest of tombs and the most treacherous of pits. And let us not forget my dear younger brother, who shares in our family legacy, ensuring that our craft endures through the ages.”

“But there is another figure, a mentor whose wisdom illuminated my path like a torch in the darkness. Publius Helvius Laeca, sage of our city, whose passion for humanity’s past glories and the pursuit of lost artifacts ignited a flame within my soul that has burned ever brighter with each discovery, each adventure.”

“I am reminded of the rich tapestry of history that weaves through the very fabric of our city. A city where old meets new, where the craftsmanship of antiquity mingles with the innovations of tomorrow. Yet, amidst this juxtaposition, there lies a challenge, a challenge to uphold the standards of excellence set by our forefathers, to preserve the legacy of our ancestors, and to safeguard the treasures of our past for generations yet to come.”

“For too long have we allowed the shadows of mediocrity to cloud our vision, to tarnish the splendor of our… heritage. But fear not, for I return not only as a prodigal son but as a champion of our city’s greatness, a defender of its legacy.”

“Together, we shall embark on a new quest, a quest to free humanity from the shackles of those who would enslave us and send us into the dark. The path ahead will be full of peril, and though the challenges may seem insurmountable, I know that the Crimson Calling is up to the task!”

“So let us raise our voices in triumph, let us march forward with heads held high, for we are the heirs of a legacy forged in the fires of history, and together, we shall write the next chapter of our not just our city’s tale, but the tale of humanity once-sundered, being stitched back together. And remember, as we journey forth into the unknown, we do so not as mere mortals, but as guardians of humanity’s past, present, and future.”

“To glory, to adventure, to the enduring spirit of humanity!”

Where Fools Dare Tread

Posted on by
6

Around the fire, the subject of the Dark and Hand and Bandesing rises in discussion. Telosh, Clyte, the Axe Man, Shai-yeeni, Varisimuss, Mavon, Skelor, Leer, what and whom – have you.

“Beware the Light Foot, for death follows where the Singing Bandit steps…” Ezrin seems to reciting a proverb from the streets of Sutheron.

“Most I know would avoid them, but I suppose it is too late…

“And it seems you’ve already received a lesson, or your late companion did at least.”

The Sutheroni mage looks at his new companions with a mixture of fear, concern, and compassion, and perhaps a bit of awe and excitement.

“Supposedly the Foot, sorry, the Dark Hand – even young nuns wear old habits – is engaged in the traditional business of the Black Hills, but no one know who they sell their…”

It is obvious that Ezrin is used to using a particular type of slang when discussing these types of topics.

“Slaves to. And they do not do business with the traditional Hill-guilds. There have been a few conflicts, not with good results for the Hill folk…”

“Everyone knows they took the Kings’ betrothed, but beyond that..” the mage shrugs.

“Their goals and motivations are the subject of much speculation. Their power and danger are clear though, and you have placed yourself squarely in the sights of their crossbows, chasing treasures they desire…”

Ezrin is quiet and thoughtful for a moment, then he shakes his head a little, and smiles ruefully.

“So be it, Crimson Calling, if you’ll have me, I’ll cleave to you now and join in your work to undermine the… Dark Hand.

“What have you learned about them so far?”

Ezrin is clearly nervous about this choice, but also very serious about it.

The Final Obituary of Telosh Winterborne

Posted on by
Reply

Dear Mr Okken Winterborne,

I write to you as the last, and final, companion of your son, Telosh Winterborne. Perhaps you have been made aware that your son has been fighting the slavers known as the Dark Hand for more than a year now, and unfortunately they were able to get the upper hand in the woods to the Northeast of the Copper Hills Fort.

While Chia-eenee shot the arrow that almost surely killed your son, we were unable to check his body as it was carried away by the giant that haunts these woods. Perhaps you will take some small solace in knowing that your son helped defeat three of the Dark Hand’s most ruthless agents in that same combat, although I regret to inform you that Chia-eenee was able to escape in the confusion of the giant’s arrival.

It was my great pleasure to have discovered Telosh at his lowest; drinking and throwing fights for small-time criminal bets, and to have seen his embrace of the battle against the Dark Hand and of taking up the path of the Peacemakers.

During our short time together, your son fought the Dark Hand with his wits and with his strong-arm. He visited the lost Dwarven city of Dura-Intun, and helped slay the black dragon that dwelled under the mountain. He stole a powerful artifact of the goblin god. He ransomed a Sutheroni noble working for the Dark Hand on more than one occasion. He helped drive the goblin army away from the Copper Hills fort when they were led by Barra, including helping kill a troll. When magic was unleashed in the the Copper Hills mine, he worked diligently to reverse the threat to humanity. He saw the ancient Sword Chaotic, and had the good sense to leave it alone. He confronted the enemies of humanity known as Malor and the Arru-Norroth, and walked away to write about it in his book.

During all of our adventures, Telosh spoke often and fondly of yourself, Dakun, Sven, Gorf, and Dirk.

Unfortunately none of your sons belongings were able to be included with this letter, since the body was carried away by the previously mentioned giant.

My deepest condolences on your loss,
Alexis Laelius of the Crimson Calling