Gears
Harbinger of War, Chaos, and Poptarts
As a soft rain fell upon the freezing fields of Bordermire, the plants surviving despite the brutal frost of the winter, five strange heroes awoke, some saw a world unknown to them, others where amazed at how far they had been taken, the strange magics of their summoning any from across their world, or any world. Each were summoned by five identical elegant letters, found in the most surprising of locations, whether it be the depths of the abyss or an impregnable fortress- each found a small letter, the parchment worn and faded, near where they had slept that night or a place easily found, addressed directly by their birth name, even if their true names where a secret they had never told others. Rather than a name from whoever had written and somehow placed these letters, there was only the gilded crest of some unknown benefactor, two draconic beings staring at another face to face, each an opposite shade of gold, with a third dragon between them, formed by their positioning- the unique emblazoned above a message written in a steady hand:
"To adventurers of interest, I hope this message reaches you well- there was great risk in sending this, with the events that have occurred in my land. All forms of communication have been severed, and I fear this will not reach the heroes we need in our direst of times. Chaos has struck the land, and allies have become enemies- peaceful nations are plundering their neighbors, Wild Orcs gather in their lands to invade, and a blight has begun spreading. With no other option, I have reached out to you- one separate from whatever has assaulted our land and people, free of the corruption some have suffered to save us. I offer treasure and my gratitude in return for the carrying out of an important quest, and save this once noble land- maybe even the world. Enclosed in this letter is a Traveling Stone, tapping it against my seal will allow you to reach a neutral territory not struck by whatever is threatening this world. Meet my Allies at the Gilded Dragon so they may explain the quest (And its rewards). I pray to the gods that you will accept my summons, and hope I will meet you on your Quest."
There was no client is signed, the golden writing ending in a simple flourish- along with the street name and any other information needed to find this meeting place. Each adventurer removed their stone, a small piece of obsidian- impossibly carved into a smooth shape without any mark or blemish- a series of crystal veins glowing faintly along the surface, flowing through the stone like miniature rivers, before gathering around a single rune- each unreadable and unique to the adventurers. The Veins glow slightly grew with their touch, and as they followed the instructions from the strange message, the veins burst into light. every surface surrounding the adventurer was painted with runes, spinning around the summoned hero. The light would eventually blind them, leaving only a loud hum that would quickly take their hearing, words in an ancient language accompanying the cacophony of noise with chanting and incoherent voices and cry's- before one voice in their native tongue would speak softly to them:
"Thank You."
The voices would suddenly stop as sight and hearing returned to them, revealing their sudden journey.
The five would find themselves in a field of grain, the crop slightly different than any native to their world, the stalk thicker and the crop itself a bit more more colorful. They could hear the distant call of farmers confirming that despite the bitter cold of winter that surrounded them, the strange fauna was ripe, ready for the harvest. The raindrops began to slow from a downpour to a steady and lazy fall. The rows of plants where neat and precise, clearly ran by a strict master rather than a family plantation. The heroes could see further down the hill, trees blossoming with vibrant fruit, with farmers carefully picking and collecting the bounty, while a few guards stood watch- a strange amount watching a particular tree, isolated from the others, only a single ancient farmer tending to the young sapling.
The fields the heroes had found themselves in sprawled across the landscape, only interrupted by a massive forest stretching along the horizon, The trees wild and dark, casting shadows upon the many wagons riding down a winding road under the distant trees. The more observant could see that any walking it desperately stayed on the dirt path, worn by generations of waggoneers. Below the fields and orchards, the heroes would see a bustling town, not necessarily a metropolis or a small farming village, but a hearty collective of buildings surrounding a stone keep, the distant chatter of the streets carrying with the wind to the adventurers. The scents of unfamiliar spices and meats would assail their scenes, perhaps coming from a section of merchants' shops surrounding a bustling market- or perhaps from a lone merchant wagon sitting on the path to the city from the orchard, no one taking notice of the strange merchant within, a man shrouded in a black cloak calling for anyone to buy from his master to no effect.
"To adventurers of interest, I hope this message reaches you well- there was great risk in sending this, with the events that have occurred in my land. All forms of communication have been severed, and I fear this will not reach the heroes we need in our direst of times. Chaos has struck the land, and allies have become enemies- peaceful nations are plundering their neighbors, Wild Orcs gather in their lands to invade, and a blight has begun spreading. With no other option, I have reached out to you- one separate from whatever has assaulted our land and people, free of the corruption some have suffered to save us. I offer treasure and my gratitude in return for the carrying out of an important quest, and save this once noble land- maybe even the world. Enclosed in this letter is a Traveling Stone, tapping it against my seal will allow you to reach a neutral territory not struck by whatever is threatening this world. Meet my Allies at the Gilded Dragon so they may explain the quest (And its rewards). I pray to the gods that you will accept my summons, and hope I will meet you on your Quest."
There was no client is signed, the golden writing ending in a simple flourish- along with the street name and any other information needed to find this meeting place. Each adventurer removed their stone, a small piece of obsidian- impossibly carved into a smooth shape without any mark or blemish- a series of crystal veins glowing faintly along the surface, flowing through the stone like miniature rivers, before gathering around a single rune- each unreadable and unique to the adventurers. The Veins glow slightly grew with their touch, and as they followed the instructions from the strange message, the veins burst into light. every surface surrounding the adventurer was painted with runes, spinning around the summoned hero. The light would eventually blind them, leaving only a loud hum that would quickly take their hearing, words in an ancient language accompanying the cacophony of noise with chanting and incoherent voices and cry's- before one voice in their native tongue would speak softly to them:
"Thank You."
The voices would suddenly stop as sight and hearing returned to them, revealing their sudden journey.
The five would find themselves in a field of grain, the crop slightly different than any native to their world, the stalk thicker and the crop itself a bit more more colorful. They could hear the distant call of farmers confirming that despite the bitter cold of winter that surrounded them, the strange fauna was ripe, ready for the harvest. The raindrops began to slow from a downpour to a steady and lazy fall. The rows of plants where neat and precise, clearly ran by a strict master rather than a family plantation. The heroes could see further down the hill, trees blossoming with vibrant fruit, with farmers carefully picking and collecting the bounty, while a few guards stood watch- a strange amount watching a particular tree, isolated from the others, only a single ancient farmer tending to the young sapling.
The fields the heroes had found themselves in sprawled across the landscape, only interrupted by a massive forest stretching along the horizon, The trees wild and dark, casting shadows upon the many wagons riding down a winding road under the distant trees. The more observant could see that any walking it desperately stayed on the dirt path, worn by generations of waggoneers. Below the fields and orchards, the heroes would see a bustling town, not necessarily a metropolis or a small farming village, but a hearty collective of buildings surrounding a stone keep, the distant chatter of the streets carrying with the wind to the adventurers. The scents of unfamiliar spices and meats would assail their scenes, perhaps coming from a section of merchants' shops surrounding a bustling market- or perhaps from a lone merchant wagon sitting on the path to the city from the orchard, no one taking notice of the strange merchant within, a man shrouded in a black cloak calling for anyone to buy from his master to no effect.
Adventures should react to the landscape and each other, maybe including their discovery of the letters.
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