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The History of The Spellsinger's of Semarkan
thefantasticbard
Member, Neverwinter Beta Users, Neverwinter Guardian Users Posts: 0 Arc User
*You are in a tavern*
*A man, decrepit with age comes up to you*
*He begins to speak to you, at the same time, you feel time slowly come to a halt as you are enthralled by his spun tale*
Hello there young adventurer. As you can see I am advanced in age, and soon will join the God of the Roads in endless travel. As is costum with people like me, I pass on to you, the History of my legacy, that you may take up the mantle of "The Spellsinger of Semarkan" and contiune in the way of endless travel and storywriting. That your Adventures may lead you to unwritten epics, fables that when told fall to hushed crowds. So I give to you, my history, and your new missive, your new perpouse as you travel throught the Forgotten Realms.
*disclaimer, Some parts tell my IRL playing so they might not fit as well as I wanted them too.*
Hello,
My friends call me, The Spellsinger of Semarkan, bard extrodinare. I have been traveling the parts of Ebberon for well over 7 years now and have just traveled into the forgotten realms from hearing the viles of the spell plague ravage the land. I knew that I, the Minstrel of Mayhem could not just sit idley by whilst many great adventurers went off and discovered danger and treasure without the companion of a bard to write the tales. That would be just foolish! So thus as I migrate over here, I find myslef in need of companionship to brave and best the dungens that await me. Yet, with my advanced age, I knew that I had to chose a predicessor to take upon the montra of Spellsinger, and write tales, that this body onlonger can.
Now young sir, I tell you of my Journies throught a distant land.
I have had 7 years of travel in Ebberon, most being in Xendrek, and in the City of Stormreach(DDO). There, I traveled as a bard many a year, yet a blasted druid kept rencarnating me to find my ture purpouse. That was to be a singer of songs, a teller of tales, a crafter of fables, and a guide to lost souls. I have done my job that has been enlightend to be faithfully and the God of the Road has looked plesently apon my deeds, and soon will join her royal court. My recent tales of adventure was sealing a rift that had formed between my homeworld of Ebberon, and this land in the Forgotten Realms. Lolth, attempted to comsume my world, and knowing the perils, many brave adventurers banded together to fight her. Many of witch payed the ultimate price to stop her wicked intentions. Yet I, a lucky surviver lived to tell the tale of there bravery and heroics that went beyond the call of duty, and after the work that comsumed me had pasted. However the toll that it had taken me to write this magical text, aged me beyond my years. Knowing that time is short I have serched this new realm for an apprentice that, the tale of adventure called too, and a new realm of posibilities opened for me to bestow my tidings apon.
I have also traveled to the volitial realms of Ravenloft. Where I met a mad docter who attempted to tinker with me and my companions. I was the only to survive after years spent fending off all assortments of creatures of the night.(11 years playing tabletop, 2 in 2.0, 9 in 3.5 and 2 in 4.0) My brave companions fell one by one, to the illusion of power and strenght, to the bloodraged beast who have no form. Yet what stung the most, my closest friend Bravelin the Swordmage, I did have to slay for he had become corrupt. The anguish that I felt tuged at the strings of my heart so that I had to leave this place. Yet however leaving proved more of a challange then expected, however that is a tale for another time.
To and fro have I written many a tale of my adventures, and as many escape my failing mind due to age, one still resounds with me. Infact it is still one a parent tells to there child with magical aptitude to scare them from the aluer of power known as Ravenloft, crafted for the very purpose of letting other avoid the loss that I felt in my early adventuring career.
The tale that I remember goes as follows,
As beasts surrouned the bard,
Knowing death had becomed his fellows,
He charged down, throwing causion to the wind.
As he reached the fray,
Bright did the blade glow.
From that light his enemies did he slay,
Then wiped he, the blood from his trusty blade,
And a tale he wrote for another day.
But that tale lost,
In Ravenloft,
And remember I not, to this day.
Now friend the void calls, and I must in turn awnser. Go now, though confused ye may be, but fret not. For I will be there to guide you. And as the powers that I have bestowed unto you grow, more of the history of the Spellsingers shall be granted unto you, For you are not the first, and shall not be the last.
Sincerly,
~The Spellsinger of Semarkan, The Minstrel of Mayhem, Grimmgnaw.
*This is really my first attempt to write an RP like this. With more Beta weekends and throught the life of the game, I hope to add more to this. I hope you enjoyed and please comment with suggestions
!*
*A man, decrepit with age comes up to you*
*He begins to speak to you, at the same time, you feel time slowly come to a halt as you are enthralled by his spun tale*
Hello there young adventurer. As you can see I am advanced in age, and soon will join the God of the Roads in endless travel. As is costum with people like me, I pass on to you, the History of my legacy, that you may take up the mantle of "The Spellsinger of Semarkan" and contiune in the way of endless travel and storywriting. That your Adventures may lead you to unwritten epics, fables that when told fall to hushed crowds. So I give to you, my history, and your new missive, your new perpouse as you travel throught the Forgotten Realms.
*disclaimer, Some parts tell my IRL playing so they might not fit as well as I wanted them too.*
Hello,
My friends call me, The Spellsinger of Semarkan, bard extrodinare. I have been traveling the parts of Ebberon for well over 7 years now and have just traveled into the forgotten realms from hearing the viles of the spell plague ravage the land. I knew that I, the Minstrel of Mayhem could not just sit idley by whilst many great adventurers went off and discovered danger and treasure without the companion of a bard to write the tales. That would be just foolish! So thus as I migrate over here, I find myslef in need of companionship to brave and best the dungens that await me. Yet, with my advanced age, I knew that I had to chose a predicessor to take upon the montra of Spellsinger, and write tales, that this body onlonger can.
Now young sir, I tell you of my Journies throught a distant land.
I have had 7 years of travel in Ebberon, most being in Xendrek, and in the City of Stormreach(DDO). There, I traveled as a bard many a year, yet a blasted druid kept rencarnating me to find my ture purpouse. That was to be a singer of songs, a teller of tales, a crafter of fables, and a guide to lost souls. I have done my job that has been enlightend to be faithfully and the God of the Road has looked plesently apon my deeds, and soon will join her royal court. My recent tales of adventure was sealing a rift that had formed between my homeworld of Ebberon, and this land in the Forgotten Realms. Lolth, attempted to comsume my world, and knowing the perils, many brave adventurers banded together to fight her. Many of witch payed the ultimate price to stop her wicked intentions. Yet I, a lucky surviver lived to tell the tale of there bravery and heroics that went beyond the call of duty, and after the work that comsumed me had pasted. However the toll that it had taken me to write this magical text, aged me beyond my years. Knowing that time is short I have serched this new realm for an apprentice that, the tale of adventure called too, and a new realm of posibilities opened for me to bestow my tidings apon.
I have also traveled to the volitial realms of Ravenloft. Where I met a mad docter who attempted to tinker with me and my companions. I was the only to survive after years spent fending off all assortments of creatures of the night.(11 years playing tabletop, 2 in 2.0, 9 in 3.5 and 2 in 4.0) My brave companions fell one by one, to the illusion of power and strenght, to the bloodraged beast who have no form. Yet what stung the most, my closest friend Bravelin the Swordmage, I did have to slay for he had become corrupt. The anguish that I felt tuged at the strings of my heart so that I had to leave this place. Yet however leaving proved more of a challange then expected, however that is a tale for another time.
To and fro have I written many a tale of my adventures, and as many escape my failing mind due to age, one still resounds with me. Infact it is still one a parent tells to there child with magical aptitude to scare them from the aluer of power known as Ravenloft, crafted for the very purpose of letting other avoid the loss that I felt in my early adventuring career.
The tale that I remember goes as follows,
As beasts surrouned the bard,
Knowing death had becomed his fellows,
He charged down, throwing causion to the wind.
As he reached the fray,
Bright did the blade glow.
From that light his enemies did he slay,
Then wiped he, the blood from his trusty blade,
And a tale he wrote for another day.
But that tale lost,
In Ravenloft,
And remember I not, to this day.
Now friend the void calls, and I must in turn awnser. Go now, though confused ye may be, but fret not. For I will be there to guide you. And as the powers that I have bestowed unto you grow, more of the history of the Spellsingers shall be granted unto you, For you are not the first, and shall not be the last.
Sincerly,
~The Spellsinger of Semarkan, The Minstrel of Mayhem, Grimmgnaw.
*This is really my first attempt to write an RP like this. With more Beta weekends and throught the life of the game, I hope to add more to this. I hope you enjoyed and please comment with suggestions
!* The Spellsinger of Semarkan~Grimmgnaw
I love Bards. Wisconsin, birthplace of DnD.
I love Bards. Wisconsin, birthplace of DnD.
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