Solace

[Blitz]

A small town near the border of Imperial lands and the Forest of Night, the town is under the govern of Grant Benedict, a summoner that was forced to flee Temperance at its fall. A somewhat religious community, Solace is starting to grow past is quaint appearances.

[MT]

Solace

Garrison
- Witchhunter
-
- The Armor of Roland (Citadel Guardian)
- Colossus
- Witchhunter
-- Mage
--
-- Priest
-- Diplomat

Buildings
- Meeting Hall
-- Town Hall
--- City Hall
---- Castle Hall
----- Citadel Hall
- Temple
-- Inner Temple
- Bank
- Wizard’s Guild
-- Wizard's Tower
--- Wizard's Keep
- Rune Hall
- Life Node
- Town Wall
-- City Wall
--- Castle Wall
---- Citadel Wall
----- Blessings of the Highfather

Troop Buildings
- Garden
-- Dungeon
--- Torture Chamber
- Archery Range
-- Imperial Guild
--- Forester's Guild
- Mage’s School
-- Library
--- Elemental Circle
- Healer’s Conclave
-- Monastery
--- Cathedral
- Courthouse
- Ruined Temple

Holdings
- Life Node

Services:

Hire:
Monk
Archer
Apprentice
Acolyte
Diplomat
Colossus

Upgrade:
Witchhunter - 100 gold
Inquisitor - 450 gold
Marksman - 100 gold
Ranger - 500 gold
Mage - 100 gold
Elementalist - 600 gold
Priest - 100 gold
Bishop - 550 gold

Spells:
Level 1 Life Spells - 100 gold plus spell cost
Level 2 Life Spells - 200 gold plus spell cost
Level 3 Life Spells - 300 gold plus spell cost
Level 1 Rune Spells - 150 gold plus spell cost

Merchants:

Rolph the Potionmaker:
Potion of Healing - 50 Gold
Potion of Restoration - 100 Gold
Life Potion - 200 Gold
Potion of Mana - 25 Gold
Potion of Protection - 150 Gold
Potion of Vigor - 150 Gold
Potion of Swiftness - 150 GOld
Potion of Agility - 400 Gold
Quicksilver (3) - 1500 Gold

Archdruid Skadi the Mercenary:
Gnome - 250 gold
Tenderfoot - 200 gold
Novice - 800 gold
Druid - 2500 gold

Solace will offer services to anyone that has found its location from Grant. It won't serve Legion, Undead, or Alliance members willingly. Empire member's have to pay a 10% surcharge on all purchases. Clan characters have to pay a 25% surcharge.

[/MT]

[Blitz]

Grant jerked forward, sweat dripping down his face from the dreams of screaming children, dying mothers, and an endless rain of Elven arrows faded from his sleep encrusted eyes. He wiped the moisture from his face while trying to free his mind from the grips of the nightmares that had pursued him so vigorously from the days of Temperance and the heart-shattering blow that struck the Empire. The Elves. Not the Legion of the Damned and their demons that rained fire from the skies. Not the Undead Hordes that shamble eternally forward, ignoring bodily harm in their endless march towards death. Not even the Mountain Clans with their fierce warriors and cries of Ragnorok. The Elves. Once the closest of allies with the Empire, it was the Elves that managed the atrocity of Temperance. Grant felt like he was going to be sick.

He slipped his feet out of his bed, feeling the cold wooden floor of his room grounding him to the present. He could hear a rooster crow in the background as thread thin streams of sunlight slipped past his shuttered windows. He coughed, rising to his feet and splashed water on his face from the basin in the corner. He ignored the dusky blackness of the room, preferring it over the gregarious morning that threatened him through the wooden shutters. He would have to face the day soon enough. He pulled on one of his robes from a hook in the corner where Mrs. Behrt had placed it after she had done the laundry the day before, then slid his feet into the soft leather boots he had purchased before he had left Abrissel.

As he left his room, the smell of Mrs. Behrt’s biscuits welled up from the kitchen like a gentle melody. Grant offered a smile and a brief prayer of thanks to the Highfather for the caretaker’s presence. He remembered back to the gruel that was served to him in Stoneweard by the town cook, that still gave him as heart-pounding nightmares as the fall of Temperance did. Mrs. Behrt however was as close to an angel as Grant had seen walking Nevendaar. She was kind, gentle, and did far more work that she should have to, all with a cheerful whistle. Grant quickly snatched up a pair of the warm buttermilk biscuits that crumbled in his mouth followed quickly by a generous drink from the water barrel. Pleased with his brief breakfast and excited for the day, Grant turned to his home’s front door and stepped out into the morning.

The town of Solace slowly woke from the nights slumber with the steady purpose Grant had brought with him with his assignment from Abrissel. Grant was to establish a solid fortress on the edge of lands contested by the disciples of Mortis. With Mortis’ recent silence on Nevendaar, and her minions remaining in the grave, the leader of the Empire had determined he would be one of the agents designated to ‘liberate’ the fetid land and bring it into the light of the Highfather. Grant looked at the assignment as a chance to prove himself more than just a shadow of his father’s imposing figure. Hopefully it would lead to more.

The town itself was already well on its way towards Grant’s goals, though it was still in its starting stages. The town had many of the amenities that it would need to become a city dedicated to the Empire’s design. Many things were already built in the town when he had arrived. An archery range was the primary training facility of the town built and used by the town’s sole original protector, a young imperial archer named Joel Bershire. The archer had done a good job establishing a small mage’s school and a healer’s conclave in turn attracting a young mage and an acolyte of the Highfather to help defend the town from possible attacker, though none had appeared so far. However Joel’s initiative had faltered, and he hadn’t planned beyond the bare necessities of the town. When Grant had arrived along with Edwin De Gausse, a warrior monk and Grant’s closest friend, they quickly began to fill the holes that Joel had left. Joel was less than pleased with what he saw as interference, but like the good military man he was, fell in line behind Grant.

It didn’t take long for the town to take shape with a meditation garden where Edwin began to train new recruits, and a wizard’s tower for Grant to continue his own training in the magical arts (he was already remarkably close to mastering the spell required for summoning a bolt of lightning). Quickly the town was showing more fruit and it was being rewarded with travelers stopping and spending money in the modest marketplace. Remarkably Joel continued to try to wield power over the town, and commissioned what was supposed to be a small jail for ruffians, and the archer developed into a far larger dungeon. But Grant decided to let the matter slide. The dungeon probably wouldn’t see much use, but Grant had enough experience with the Holy Church to know that if their agents decided to visit the town, the dungeon would be an attraction for their ‘questioning’ of heretics.

All things considered, Grant was pleased. Having a feather in his career’s cap like a successful town that helped retake some part of the Forest of Night would only help his cause towards being someone of more fruit in the Empire. And the steadily growing stone walls of the town, and shining beacon it was becoming against the countryside made him feel for the first time in his life, that he had actually accomplished something. Victories, even small ones were so few and far between that Grant knew to keep this one close to his chest, less it slip away an vanish amount his list of failures that littered his life like leaves on a forest floor.

“Sir!”

Grant turned slowly, knowing exactly what he was to see. Joel stood as straight as one of the arrows in his quiver, one arm angled like a blades edge, his hand to his temple as crisp as an autumn day. Grant offered the salute back with half the heart, and a quarter of the effort, “You know, Joel, I’m a mage, not a knight. I don’t stand on any of that pomp and circumstance.”

Joel’s jaw clenched but managed, “Well, I, see more benefit in it, sir. I have goals in mind for myself that require more strict ideals. No offense.”

“What do I care,” Grant shrugged, “as long as you do your duty here, I’ll do my best to get you to a command that you feel more suiting of your goals.”

Joel’s eyes shifted, not quite willing to trust the word of a mage. Many thought any magic that wasn’t used to heal as a touch of the dark, a touch of heresy. Grant figured Joel had similar thoughts, and that Grant’s tongue might be slightly forked from dealing with less veritable forces. However he offered only a curt nod in agreement.

“Where do we stand on construction?”

Joel snapped back to his business-like demeanor, “The town wall should be completed within the next few days.”

“Good, and the guild?”

Joel smiled, “The Imperial Guild will be completed by week’s end. And I do appreciate you allowing its construction, sir.”

Grant nodded, “Building a merchant’s guild would have brought more commerce, but I agree with your opinion that we both want more Imperial eyes in Solace to encourage aid from the King. I would rather have extra help when we need it, then a few extra coffers in my pocket.”

“I do want to confirm with you that you still want a monastery built next to the monks’ gardens. A church would provide more structure for the villagers in their prayers to the Highfather. A monastery…”

“—is a place where women can find protection from the outside world. I think it is more appropriate given the town’s name. Besides, the monks can do an agreeable job passing on the Highfather’s graces. Perhaps we’ll build a cathedral when we have the time and the funds. But otherwise I stand by my decision.”

“And with the monks’ garden as well? You know, good Imperial training grounds might be a better use of space—“

“Joel,” Grant snapped, “this is the last time I say this. Edwin is a close friend of mine, more than capable of providing fighters skilled enough to protect the town.”

“Yes sir.”

Joel didn’t wait for anything more, or for even a dismissal. Instead he turned on his heels and stomped off towards the archery range, no doubt to vent some of his steam at dealing with the irrational mage. Grant passively watched him go.

“You know, he’s right.” Grant nodded as Edwin walked up behind him. “Monks are not trained knights. We can hold our own against goblins and such, but if things get beyond the Highfather’s graces, we won’t be much help.”

“Well, you’ll just have to keep working on it. But I agree, we’ll need more muscle.”

Edwin smiled at the grass, “I didn’t realize you though I was so weakly built.”

“Oh yea, you’re as wispy as an angel feather,” Grant chided the far more muscular man. “I was actually thinking of taking a trip to Abrissel, and seeing if we could hire the services of a knight.”

“Who is we?”

Grant shrugged, “You and I, of course—“

“Oh, of course.”

“—Joel, —“

“Sounding better and better.”

“—and one of the acolytes in the conclave,” Grant finished ignoring the other man’s running commentary.

Edwin sighed, “Just when I was getting used to staying put. When are we going to leave?”

“Tomorrow, around midday. That should put us in Abrissel within the week, and get us back as soon as we are able. Do you think your two new monks will be up to the task of watching the city?”

Edwin nodded, “They’re doing well, and with that apprentice of your’s help, they’ll put up a good fight for anything that wanders around the area. They’ll be fine.”

Grant nodded, “Good. Then I’ll go tell Joel before he starts painting a picture of me on one of his targets. Going to the capitol ought to put him in a better mood. Kids love the big city.”

Edwin smiled at the joke, “Hard to imagine that boy growing into a man.”

“Let’s just hope we don’t have to deal with another Temperance. And just maybe he’ll get there.”

(OOC)

I couldn't focus on the other stuff I was working on, So I banged this out to start upgrading Solace. Building a Town Wall and a Imperial Guild. Will build a Monestary once I get more gold, but I gotta go buy a Man-at-arms from Abrissel first. Or a woman-at-arms, technically.

(/OOC)

[Blitz]

Grant stepped out of the wizard’s guide, squinting against the daylight. He rubbed his fingertips, feeling them tingle from the pressure. The tips had a slightly charred appearance, certainly from the lightning spell that he had been meticulously casting, over and over. He smiled to himself, the old idiom was true. Mana was the life’s blood of magic. Before he controlled his own life node, learning spells was an arduous process that combined strict study, and patient pray to the gods. It took many mages a year or better to learn even the simplest spells as they gathered their own mana stores from the environment. But the mana that sprouted from the node, just outside Solace had provided him the resources to earn the spell in a matter of weeks.

“Grant,” Edwin voice came from the garden as the monk strolled up to him. “I wondered where you got to.”

“Just working on my skills,” the mage smiled.

Edwin nodded, “I thought I would brief you that the new monastery is complete and there is a new acolyte ready to staff the garrison.”

“Good,” Grant nodded, still rubbing the sensation out of his fingertips, “How does our treasury look?”

Edwin offered a weak smile, “Paltry. We’ll either have to wait until we gain some funds through taxes, or go out try to earn it the old fashion way.”

“Old fashion way?”

Edwin chuckled, “Pillage and plunder my friend, pillage and plunder.”

Grant smiled, “Well perhaps we’ll take a party out in the countryside and see if we can roust a band of thieves or something. But I think the Empire would have a problem if we started to attack our own towns for money.”

The two men laughed, looking out at the town. Its short stone walls gleamed in the sunlight, painted with whitewash to match the rest of the town. Solace’s town center looked respectable, with the large town hall connected to a temple and monastery that chimed the hour. Grant was pleased. “Well, we’ll just have to eek out more structures as money becomes available. We should focus first on an inner temple, then start building up the town hall into a proper fortress. One large enough to hold a bigger garrison, and able to protect the townspeople if we fall under attack. After that..” Grant shrugged.

“About the garrison,” Edwin scratched the back of his shaggy head, “I was wondering about our new recruit. Where exactly do you know Erin from?”

Grant turned, picking out the woman’s mane of hair at the front gate of the town, standing studiously, pike in hand. “I knew her father when I was stationed at Stonegate. He was an Imperial priest garrisoned at that city. He had hoped that Erin would follow in his footsteps, but she had aspirations to be a knight—“

“A knight?” Edwin blinked. “Then why not start as a squire? Not a guard?”

Grant shrugged, “I would imagine because there aren’t many knights that want a girl for a squire. She probably had to take what she could get. Anyways, he was worried about her even before I left for Temperance, and told me if I was ever in Abrissel to check up on her. When I found out she was a man-at-arms for the city, it didn’t take much convincing to get her to move to Solace. Apparently she’s hit a bit of a stone wall when it comes to getting into the knights’ ranks. No one will post her in any positions that she can prove herself, so she feels she is wasting her career under a portcullis.”

Edwin glanced her way casually, and chuckled, “She does seem to know her way around a pike. She managed to disarm one of the monks in short order this morning. I’m convinced. Joel is a different matter. He’s liable to chop down the Eternal Glade with as many arrows he’s pouring into his targets. You best beware, less he starts painting your likeness on them.”

“He’s just going to have to grow up. It isn’t about him anymore. It’s about the good of the town. And I think Erin fits that need, whether she’s a woman or not.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” Edwin smiled, “I’m not worried about an archer ‘accidentally’ placing an arrow in my back.”

Grant smiled, but the humor didn’t stick. He looked up at Edwin with a serious gaze, “I wanted to apologize for the incident with the bobcats. I hope you didn’t feel like I was risking your life—“

“Grant,” Edwin interrupted, “I know what you were doing. I was in Temperance, too. You need to know we can handle things, with or without you. I get it. And I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather have protecting my flank than you. Maria did a fine job patching me up. I’ve got no complaints. Just don’t test us too often. I like most of my parts intact.”

Grant smiled at Edwin’s joke, “I’ll keep that under advisement. Come on. Let’s get some lunch. Misses Berht is cooking roast lamb, and it will undoubtedly be more than I can eat.”

“Who could pass on an offer like that.” Edwin followed Grant towards the town hall as the scent of roast meat began to cling to the air like a warm mist, accompanied by the growing rumble in both men’s stomachs.

(OOC)

Solace now has a Monastery, another garrisoned unit, and Grant has a new spell.

(/OOC)

[Blitz]

“Watch that ghoul!” Grant bellowed, directing the attention of two of his summoned elementals at the decaying forms that were attempting to scale the thick citadel walls around Solace. He chanted again, calling for the magic to boon his weakening line that guarded the city. The battle had been waging for over two hours, and only the unrelenting for of the blessed armor of Roland and the waves on undead seemed oblivious to the length of time. Three more skeletons emerged from the forests to join the warriors hacking at the sturdy gate while he, his elementals, and his apprentice hurtled spells down to bar their way.

Pat the gate stood the gleaming golden armor of Roland, blocking the progress of the massive dreadwyrm, preventing the undead beast from sieging the vulnerable gates. The sickening beast continued to wail at the blessed armor, but the golden figure refused to yield, hacking at the beast with massive stokes of the iconic sword, Durandel. Grant offered a quick prayer to the Highfather for his fortunes. Had the blessed sword not been unearthed during the final strengthening of the citadel walls, the city would have fallen to the massive front that surged from up from the soil. Edwin quickly recognized the significance of the weapon and shortly after the sword was consecrate by Maria, the golden armor appeared, taking up a stoic place with the sword in hand.

It had taken Grant most of a month to find the right scrolls in great library of Abrissel that gave him the understanding of the legend of the armor and sword. Hundreds of years ago, after Roland had defeated the dragon king, Chronos, he was too grievously injured to return to Temperance for healing. Resigned to his fate, he entrusted his sword to an angel who blessed it and said it would forever protect the Holy Empire. However the sword vanished, and when Roland’s body was found he was entombed in his home town, a city renamed Cavalier’s Hill for the tomb dedicated to him. That city had been ransacked and burned to the ground during the first war and the tomb had been lost to the throngs of the Legion.

Apparently, the angel had hidden the sword in a small town called Solace, saving the weapon for a different destiny, one that summoned the holy armor up from its ruined tomb to once again serve the Empire.

Once Grant had learned of the history, he recognized the armor as a consecrated living armor, one that had been forged so powerful as to aid the paladin Roland in his near impossible quest of defeating the dragon king. As such, without the complete set, the armor would not respond to the ancient magic that drove it, until Grant had reawakened the power in the sword.

Now the armor stood guard once again, facing off with the massive undead monstrosity, and for a moment Grant could peer back in time to see the great Roland, facing off alone against Chronos. It would have been glorious, if not for the throngs of decaying warriors that moaned in constant, unhurried waves to batter their lifeless bodies into the gate while Edwin and Erin braced the gate with everyone that could be spared.

Grant let loose another tempest of energy that rippled through the undead, crumbling the newest additions before they could aid the growing numbers that hammered at the gates. Beside him Maria grunted in shock, paralyzed by dark magic until the Archdruidess Skaldi used dwarven magic to free the young woman from the curse. Another line of good fortune, Skaldi had been traveling south to find a cloister where she and her druid cadre could perfect their art in piece, away from the war torn mountains to the north. She had been the one to flee to Solace when they had first seen the dire army approaching. If not for the dwarf’s assistance, Solace would probably have fallen from the unprovoked attack. Granted grunted his thanks, sending a stream of light to engulf the offending specter, before turning again to bolster his forces.

In the center of the battle field, the powerful armor parried back the massive wyrm’s claws, pounding the creature’s hind leg with his sword. The creature bellowed imagined pain without offering a sound, then belched a mouthful of deadly gas at the figure. The armor ignored the attack, surging forward to hack off one of the creature’s front feet. The dreadwyrm side-stepped on its remaining five limbs, its cold red eyes burning at the golden figure.

It was a pity that the undead throngs had stopped trying to batter through the armor. At the first attack, Roland’s armor had shrugged off twenty of the skeletons without loosing a step or adding a scratch to the golden veneer. Only with the approach of the massive dragon did the armor have to slow its assault, preventing the beast from reaching the walls where it would certainly overwhelm the lesser forces that made up Grant’s defenders. Not that the remaining undead were lacking any conviction without the aid of the massive undead dragon.

The forest outside the city shifted, as a massive tainted tree emerged from the forest. The dark ent lumbered forward, hoisting a verdant oak ripped from the earth to its shoulder. Five arcs of electricity ripped across the sky from the top of the wall, all of mages refusing to allow the ent to bring the battering ram against the city gates. The bolts cracked into the ent, splitting its corrupted body into a charred mass of burn timber.

But with every undead figure that they destroyed, another rose to take its place. Grant knew it would only be a matter of time before the Horde beat down the human defenders. Their undead lives were not worth enough for them to be considered anything but fodder for a greater design. No, Grant knew that he needed to cut off the head, or else the body of the undead juggernaut would continue to recover.

He waited for one man.

Joel, for his part, was doing everything in his power to accomplish what Grant was waiting for. Despite their rocky start, Joel and Grant had begun to see closer to the same perspective. As the marksman saw more battle, he began to understand more of Grant’s motivations, to understand the difference between blind reverence of a chivalric ideal to an actual upholding of the ethos of protecting the lives and safety of one’s charges. And quickly he and Grant began to change their headbutting to earnest respect.

That isn’t to say that Joel was particularly pleased at being send out of Solace on this mission, rather than stand on her walls to protect the city. But he had to give credit where it was due. Grant was completely correct about the Horde’s plan of attack.

Joel had slunk through the forest, trying to get to the back of the enemy lines as rotting and decomposed body after body rose up from the ground to shamble a charge towards the citadel. More than once, Joel had to scramble out of the way as a corpse rose from the ground near enough to see the man if he wasn’t careful. Joel however was bound and determined to do his duty and protect Solace in any and every way he could.

For two hours, he had been circling around the rising army. On multiple occasions he had to duck beneath a bush, or hide behind a tree to avoid being seen. As he crept, he kept track of where the undead were focused, where they rose, trying desperately to locate the source. But it was the movement of the ent that finally revealed what he was looking for.

Next to the crater where the tree had fallen victim to the foul summoning, stood a green cloaked figure. Its robes were tattered at the edges from long use, and its boney fingers clutched a long staff that exuded a fog around the evil being. But to the being’s ability, there could be no doubt. As the cloaked figure summoned two more ghouls to charge the city walls, Joel slipped close. It was slow and painstaking to be so close to something so malevolent, but Joel couldn’t risk tipping the dark wizard off. Instead he slipped as close as he could before huddling behind a bush directly to the figure’s back. Slowly he drew one of his arrows, a large emerald strapped to the tip instead of its usual metal barb. Joel drew back on the bow, took careful aim, and released.

The arrow streaked forward, inches above the figure’s cowled head glinting, shimmering in the sunlight as it streaked over the citadel walls in the distance. The figure spun, exposing its fleshless face. The lich wheezed in anger at the attempted assassination, and Joel fired a second arrow directly into one of its open eye sockets. It grunted in pain, then pulled at the arrow as it began to call down more of Mortis’ deadly magic when a white hot arc of light hammered down on it. The power of the Highfather seared the lich’s stark bones into duct and the robes flared into incandescent flames as its staff clattered to the ground.

Grant grinned at the unholy shriek that echoed up from the forest as his spell crushed the unseen assailant. He knew that if they could stem the throngs of enemies pouring from the forests, that the citadel could out last what remained of the Horde outside. As if to prove his point, the dreadwyrm spun at the sudden destruction of its master. Roland’s armor lunged forward, Durandel arcing down to cleave through the beast’s massive skull. It shuttered and collapsed into a mass of decomposing flesh.

Seeing the monster collapse and the source of the fount of death slammed shut, the warriors behind the city walls bellowed a charge and rushed open the gates and into the fray. Stunned at the sudden turn of events, the remaining skeletal warriors were battered by the pent-up Imperials while the elementals sent waves of electricity down from the walls to clear out the last of the undead. Grant offered a sigh of relief as the undead quickly fell to the onrush of swords and spears, and turned slowly from the walls.


(OOC)

This is just to get Grant back on track with his storyline. More to come.

(/OOC)