DUCHY OF OLATH VALM - small stories


Cold winter winds blow, heralding in the distant howls of the wolves. All around the bustle of the busy city streets. Such was the every day life here in the city, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Those new to these lands might say it was cold, they might complain about the wet bitter winds. But to me it was home. Long had I ran the woods, walked these streets. Ever could I find a friendly face around every corner. Merchants of all types peddling anything my heart could desire scattered across the lush landscape that made up the city proper.

On nights like tonight, one could hear the cheers from the Arena in the distant, a game was starting, a new champion would be named tonight. Outside of the arena a wide array of friendly games and wagers.

For those of a calmer heart, there was the tavern in the high district. A quitter place, where more serious business could be conducted. Or one could simply find a nice warm fire to enjoy a book, or listen to a bard as he spun a masterful tale.

Further yet, close to the edge of town, one could see the glimmering peaks of the university, scholars studying vigorously to unlock new secrets. The faint spell of lantern oil and quill ink clung to it’s musty halls.

Finally, the crimson Peaks of the Duchess's own home, it’s tall towers allowing her to look out over the land ever so lovingly. On many a day you could here the sounds of blades clashing as the royal soldiers trained tirelessly to improve their skills. It was always a funny sound to here if one was waiting among the lines of the bank, listening to the sounds of businessmen.

No, surely, I would not desire to live anywhere else then this beloved land I have long called home. Filled with Beauty, opportunity, danger, excitement, and perhaps most importantly filled with friends from all walks of life, to share all the joys life had to offer.

Mod Edit: Wrong section for recruitment.

8/29/2019 3:16:18 AM #1


The night was cold, and the light of the crackling fire seemed to be swallowed by the darkness around the caravan. The mist that clung in the moist air made it hard to see one’s feet. The night was dark indeed as was the solemn mood of the caravan.

With a sly look on his face the young scout took a seat near the fire, “let me tell you lot of the lands we walk.” Though the caravan members barely paid him any glance he didn’t skip a beat. “This is no, normal trail that we travel, the Dark forest looms just off yonder” with a slight motion the young scout pointed an arrow into the darkness. “You lot already knew this, of course you did. But do you know the history of that forest and the lands around it? The duchess of these lands is said to have come from there you know”

With that one of the merchants sat forward spitting into the fire, “we have no interest in your hogwash. What do you take us for children?” His voice was harsh and dry as he continued “It is well known that the duchess comes from the Great House of Darkholm, we have no need of your petty rumors leave that to the farmers.”

The scout’s smile widened slightly, his voice full of cheer with the eagerness of a school boy, “surely one as learned of these roads as you, don’t believe all that? Have you ever seen or even heard of a Darkholm with hair such as hers? I know not what form of witchcraft was used but nae, the duchess is no Darkholm.”

A deep laugh erupted from the aged merchant before he found his voice again. “Fool, you have fancied one to many drink. Demon, next you’re going to say you believe all that hogwash about the queen’s immortality, they drink the blood of slaves and what not. That kind of talk will get your neck stretch yet you know. “

The young scout interrupting his words, his voice cheery and light but carried a serious undertone” Fool am I, you say. You would be like the sheep believing every word the good lords tell you? I make no claims of the queen, nor would I speak ill of such a kind and benevolent queen as her, nae the kingdom could do no better. But I do say, Duchess Ilhar is no normal woman.” The scouts voice dimmed, and his look grew serious giving the old merchant pause as the scout continued. “you know I served at D’aron Castle for a while, they had need of my unit to track some bandits threw these lands. Few are as trained as us in such you know. Though they kept close eyes on us there were times when we were free to roam. For one such as myself a place so full of secrets begs to be explored. Before those times never would I admit that some secrets are best left unknown. I shall not go into details, but Ilhar and her family are not as you and I.”

Without warning a deep voice from the cold shadows of the caravan. “Come now”

The old merchant nearly jumped out of his seat, He had not even known Jular could speak, the man joined on with his caravan many moons ago but had never spoken in that long time. The old merchant has simply assumed that some horrors of his past had driven him into silence.

After a moments pause Jular stepped forth from the shadows his piercing Yellow eyes falling across the camp before he spoke again” If you are to tell the story, surely you would start at the beginning”

The old merchants Jaw dropped slightly, surely such a veteran warrior would not believe such tales, Jular had proven his skill time and again against the many bandits of the road. If one such as him believed such stories, perhaps there was more to them then the merchant had thought.

Jular waited a moment, insured he had the camps attention before speaking again. His voice deep and solemn “The lad though foolhardy, he is not wrong. These forests do have a tale to be told, but it is not within the forest that the tale should begin.

The merchant sat forward and even the scout grew silent and listened with intent. Though the fire dimmed slightly no-one in the camp took note, all eyes and attentions where on the aged warrior.

Jular continued” Was many years ago, perhaps before the kingdom came together under a single flag. Not far from the noble lands of Darkholm, a small child found itself alone and in the dark. Though merely a few years of life, this child wandered across the lands, alone and on its own. Remember the lands at this time where a wild place, creatures of the night roamed free. IF you met anyone it was likely a bandit.” Jular looked up into the sky as if recalling some old memory. The camp grew silent save the crackles of the fire as they waited for the old warrior to speak again.

“the child against all odds, defied sanity and survived, It learned from the land and the land taught it well. Though even leaning how it did these lands would surely have consumed the child in time if the land had not brought it a family.” Julars cold yellow eyes set across the camp, confused faces everywhere waiting for his next words to solve some great mystery. He smiled, this was a story he knew all too well.

“The family, the child found deep in the wilds of these lands was not as you might expect, this was no family of man. Fate would have it that for some reason yet unknown that a pack of wolves took this child in as their own. Though rumors would have these wolves be some kind of demonic beast, or mystical creature, if you believe such stuff. What is known is that the child learned from the wolves, grew with the wolves. For many years they were one.” Julars voice trailed slight “Bond beyond blood we are one”

For a moment Jular Grew silent, remembering a past perhaps, or maybe just gathering his thoughts for the next part of the story. The old Merchants face showed his confusion as he assessed Julars words, what had he meant bond beyond blood, was that part of the story?

Jular continued, pulling himself back to the here and now, his voice still soft and deep, rolling across the camp “Regardless of the reasons, the child grew strong, it learned the ways of the pack, it learned of honor, of the hunt. It learned to kill as was needed and let live what must live. This child of man learned to be more wolf then man, the ways of the pack became its own and the pack became as one. But things such as this are not meant to last forever, there came a time when the child grew full, a time when the child of man needed to learn what it was to be human. Sad this day was for her, but she knew that staying could someday place the pack in danger. They would not make her leave but placing oneself over the pack was not it’s way.”

The merchant watched Jular closely, surely the warrior would give some sign of falsehood, the merchant had heard many strange stories in these lands, surely this was just another. But Jular showed no signs of falsehood, in the very least he truly believed these words truth.

Jular continued “The child now grown rejoined the lands of men, from the dark forest she strode forth, but the pack would not let her leave alone and as such with her she took many a young wolf pup. Just as she vowed to never let the deed of man befoul the sacred land she knew as home, the pack seamed to vow that never would her or her children be left alone. Perhaps it was chance, perhaps it was fate, or perhaps some other force was at work. But when the child now grown rejoined the lands of men it was the Darkholm lands she strode. How she came to meet Rowena, or why they accepted her and her strange family into their home is unknown. Many rumors and tall tales make guesses at why such a noble family would take on one such as her when they had turned away all others. But regardless of the reasons, Rowenna took her in, took in this child of the forest we have come to know today as Duchess Ilhar Kal’daka of the crimson Wolves.”

At this the merchant smiled, surely he had found the error in the story, the duchess had parents, they had been seen many times together. The old merchant voice cracked slightly, “Jular, your story can not be, Duchess Ilhar has parents of these lands. These tales you tell as good as they may be, they surely are but falsehoods told to entertain” The merchants voice trailed off as Julars eyes fell upon him, the look in those eyes had always unsettled the merchant feral and dangerous, he had seen many unfortunates enough to fall to the warrior.

“Have you ever seen any love between the supposed birth parents and Ilhar? Indeed, she shows more attention and love to the wolves then to those who act as kin. No though there may well be some connection to these people I assure you they are little more than a way to legitimize Ilhars title. The Darkholm are a smart people, they knew well when they assigned Ilhar to watch over the lands that she would need a legitimate family line in order to have the people accept her. Have you not ever noted that no member of her supposed family holds claims as heir? None of her family hold any real power at all.”

The merchant tried to think of a rebuttal, surely this story could not possibly be true. Even as the Merchant struggled to find a flaw in the story the others of the camp sat in silence. Jular was a respected member of their caravan and if he chose now to speak surely, he would not do so simply to spin a tale.

The merchant sat there for many moments processing before it had accrued to him that he had let the fire grow dim, this close to the dark forest, a dim fire could well spell death. As if summoned by his thoughts a pair of piercing red eyes gleamed threw the dark.

While Jular had spun his tale, the fire had grown dim and wolves from the forest managed to creep in unnoticed. The young scout was the first to move leaping for his bow, but even as his hound found purchase upon the finely crafted weapon he was met with the immense weight of a dire wolf. The Scout struggled against the weight, the wolves’ breath hot against his face, surely this would be his end. But instead of Fangs there was fur, the creature simply laid upon him slowly squeezing the air from his lungs. At least if he would go he would not feel anything.

The camp burst into life, though none where prepared for such an event. The merchant sprang to his feet and back towards the other his eyes pleading to Jular as the wolves closed in. “why was he just standing there, why did the wolves ignore him such” the old merchant thought.

Jular Finally spoke, his voice sharp and precise as the wolves let out a low growl and circled the merchants “for many moons I have traveled with you, I have watched you, I have judged you.” Jular walked calmly to the old merchant’s wagon, His hand reaching to a set of look boards beneath it.

With a strong tug Jular pulled a couple of the boards free letting the wolf pelts hidden within the wagon fall to the ground. The old merchants face was filled with fear, he had always been so careful when he stored the Pelts, he was sure no one had seen him. “how, when.” the old merchant stammered.

Julars Cold Yellow eyes bore deep into the old merchant “You know the penalty for killing wolves in Olath Valm. There is but a single price to pay for taking the lives of the duchess’s kin.” With each word the wolves closed there circle further. “By Law of the land you are to be sentenced to death for conspiring to hunt and kill protected creatures of the duchy, you have been watched, you have been judged, and now you shall face the punishment for your crime”

Even as the Old merchant felt the wolves rip into his arms and legs he could not wrap his head around the events of the night. His mind could not fathom how this had all came to be. His last thoughts where his dismay over his fate, his last sights where the blur of Jular as he vanished into the night.

As the morning Light crested, the young scout felt the sting in his eyes. His thought came flooding in as memories of the night returned. How, the scout wondered as he looked over the camp at the stains of blood. Instinct taking hold the scout surveyed the land quickly finding the tracks of Jular heading towards the dark forest. At first, he followed them but then they seemed to simply vanish perhaps covered up by the tracks of wolves? Regardless the scout had seen too much, had heard, too much. The time had come to make hast back to the safety of his keep, back to those he called family. To put the stories of the night and the odd events of the past well behind him.

Some secrets should indeed stay secret.

Mod Edit: Wrong section for recruitment.

8/29/2019 3:16:25 AM #2


8/29/2019 3:16:31 AM #3


8/29/2019 3:16:39 AM #4


8/29/2019 3:36:33 AM #5

Just anouther fun little story based on a D&D game, I by no means am the best writer, but still fun to do them sometimes.

The air was frigid outside, and the wind howled against the shutters threatening to burst in. However even as the weather outside did it’s best to bash against the small inn, within the warm light of the small crackling fire gave comfort to the villagers. The soft scent of rose pedals drifter from a boiling pot helping to sooth the tired spirits of travelers taking refuge from the storm outside. By the fire the old bard sat preparing to spin his tales. At the many tables people relaxed sipping upon an assortment of warmed soups. Though, outside raged a terrible storm, within these walls all seamed to relax and forget about their troubles and woes. The old Bard cleared his throat and started his tales of far away lands, of strange creatures and forgotten magics.

It was a long time ago, in lands far away that are tale takes place. In a small farming village not much different from this one. With the village lived many creatures much like the tribes we know today. The larger portion of these creatures where referred to as elves. A gentle and long-lived race who valued the joys that life had to offer more then they valued riches or power. Also within the town lived a handful of Halflings, very similar to some you may all know, they where a jovial bunch, light hearted little folk with a love of a good meal shared with good friends. Among these wee folk, was one that stood out even among all the others. Though, in temperament and nature he surely could have been a halfling, indeed he even kind of resembled them. He was in fact a member of a race referred to as goblins. Though, most goblins where selfish and cruel, filled with greed and hatred. This one was not like others of his kind, he happily spent his days entertaining the children of the town and helping the teachers watch over and teach the wee ones. Though many in the town did not like him, still they could not deny that he was nothing like others of his race, so they let him carry about his days with a watchful eye.

So it was that this village filled with a small assortment of marry hearted creatures, toiled endlessly to till their farms and strive to enjoy all that life had to offer them. They where a simple lot, content with a hard day’s work and a entertaining night of dance and mead, and so they would do so forever if fate had allowed, Yet fate was always a curious thing, and it had other plans for the members of our story.

So, it is here in this village that the story begins, *The old bard took a sip of his tea and took a breath to glance around and survey the patrons of the inn. *

It was a day like any other, the sun shone brightly, and the sweet smell of a summer harvest hung in the air. Though the villagers worked hard they lead a happy blessed life in their quiet little village. Rolen the farmer was just taking inventory of the harvest and remaining supplies, when the silence was broken by the sudden screams of agony and terror, looking up he could see several figures pouring into his fields from the forest, some of the workers had been injured and all of them where running scared towards the village. Rolen wasn’t particularly a brave man, but he knew that failure to defend his farm would likely cost him his entire harvest. He snatched a heavy crossbow off the wall, he always kept a few here and there in case of animal attacks. With a few shouts at his help to ensure the town guards would be alerted he took up a defensive position and began taking long range shots at the invaders.

On the other side of town another group charged from the forest, Luckily Rolus the Captain of the guard of his second in command Skathos where nearby enjoying a walk as they patrolled the town. Rolus, a veteran warrior recognized the creatures as a breed of orc. He immediately sprang into action and engaged the invaders.

Though the battle took mere minutes, for many of the townsfolk it had seamed like eons. The streets and field lay strewn with Blood and bodies of both friend and foe alike. Rolus had already taken to evaluating the attackers and his best guess was that it was little more then a scouting party, likely a prelude to a much larger attack.

The Old bard again paused to watch those gathered around, he smiled seeing the curiosity and wonder build within some of the young one’s eyes. After a moment he began again

Later that night the people of the town gathered at the meeting to talk about there options. The lord who owned these lands would take it as treason if they abandoned the fields and likely have the people executed, but the town was filled with simple people and they lacked the real force needed to resist a larger attack.

Long into the night the people of the town debated and talked. Eventually the town mayor, a swift minded high elf by the name of Rinn, pulled forth a dusty tomb. His voice was steady and held with it an air of authority. There has long been a legend that foretold this day, it foretold that one day we would find ourselves trapped, with no safe way out. It said that the elders long ago where entrusted with Protecting secret weapons that the village would some day need. Rinn believed that this time was indeed now, and that if he was wrong it would not matter as the village would likely never see another time of need without some form of help. Thus, Rinn suggested that himself and a small group of able body people would venture into the forest and seek out that which was hidden there long ago. The journey would be dangerous and there was no mention of what the weapons where, however Rinn believed they had little choice.

With this statement Rinn began to select a small handful, he wasn’t honestly sure why he picked the people, perhaps because he knew they would go with him on such a dangerous trip, perhaps some part of him was drawn to these people, Honestly, he wasn’t sure. Regardless of the reason, amongst those chosen was Glow, Skathos, Rinn, and Rinns personal assistants, his cousin Varus, a hedge mage with a few useful cantrips, and Kayleth an elf that had long served the family as cook and maid. So it was that the small party departed the very next day, there destination the nearby by Dark forest where the weapons had long ago been hidden, inside they knew they would face many dangers, but they where the towns only hope and Rinn believe that destiny was guiding them to some greater path….

The small band departed early the next day, bringing with them only the absolute necessities. Their mood was surprisingly optimistic as if fate had truly chosen them and somehow there hearts filled with hope knew it. Though there first day was uneventful they traveled long, entering the dark forest and pushing on late into the night before finally making camp exhausted and nervous.

The dark forest was a place of evil, a place where few dared to travel and even fewer returned, though they believed a higher force was watching over them, none had any hope to walk out of these dark lands untouched. All the same however the group needed rest and pushing on would prove riskier than beneficial, so they set up a quick camp and planned for watches threw the night, after a short meal the group began there rest. Though the night went uneventful nerves did not grant any much true rest that night. The next morning after a quick meal all where eager to carry on, the thought of leaving this place behind was high on everyone’s mind.

As the group carried on deeper yet into the forest till the branches blocked out all but the faintest traces of the suns light, the air grew colder and a sort of mist seamed to cover the ground forcing the group to slow there steps in order to avoid misstep’s and other forest hazards that where now all but impossible to see beneath the mist covered ground. As the group pushed on following the old map from Rinns book the forest grew denser and strands of webbing started to become more and more common until the trees where thickly covered. They knew this did not bode well but the map surely took them this way and they dared not veer from the trail for fear of becoming lost in the forest.

With weapons drawn tense for what they knew would eventually come they pushed deeper into what they knew had to be some form of giant spider’s nest. After what seamed like forever they indeed encountered the creatures responsible for the nest. Dropping out of the trees 3 horse sized spiders surrounded them, even worse though was the thousands of little spiders that seams to follow from every tree, from above and even from the ground around them the tiny spiders of various types seamed to surge, somehow being compelled to form giant swarms of tiny angry spiders. The battle ensued.

Luckily the assembled group was not helpless commoners, Skathos though inexperienced had been self-teaching himself to harness the innate magics that flowed threw his blood and the hedge mage had a few spells of his own. Even glow seamed to have a strange connection to the land and drew on powers that none present where aware that he was capable of. The battle still waged on and the group suffered many wounds before driving the creatures off. Sparing but a simple moment to treat wounds the group quickly pushed on lest the foul creatures regather there strength and return. Within a short time, the group managed to push and burn there way threw the other side of the nest and quickened there pace granting a good distance between them and the foul death trap that was the spiders nest.

Finally, with a good distance the group dared to rest, treating there wounds better, having survived the first real battle together as a group they finally took the time to converse to talk about the capabilities of everyone. Here they decided to rest for the day, though time was of the essence they needed to rest and to recover from the ordeals of the day, as well as to plan for whatever they might encounter next….

8/29/2019 3:41:21 AM #6

wonder if there's a way to wrap text into a spoiler type thing so they could be hidden when not reading them. Does anyone know the code for such?