Among Various Postings

[Rane]

Buried somewhere among the various postings in greatgaunt seems to be a story. The writing lacks a title or name. It seems to begin at a random point in the story. Written on an old piece of parchment and with practiced penmanship is the following.


The three came to a place where the king of the dead lay dormant. The king was powerful and so they kneeled before him. His lazy gaze scrutinized each of the men, and the king lamented the moment. He knew why they had come before him. He lamented their reasoning and let out a great sigh that swept before his throne room, stirring dust and extinguishing candles and torches alike.

The king was weary. He could no longer stand the passing of time, the monotonous nature of his duties. Suddenly before him stood three mortals. Each of them had a different purpose, a different goal. Each would follow a different path, and each would suffer a different death.

The king scanned over the three who knelt before him, heads bowed. Then he looked to the man in the middle who had raised his gaze to look the king of death directly in his eyes. "Curious" the old being thought. "This one is different."

The king decided he would give the three men what they were after. Not long after, the three rode hard from his dwelling. Each of them split in different directions. The lands would surely change the King thought to himself as he remained upon his throne. Those three would cause a great shift.

But the passage of time? That would remain the same. The king sighed heavily again. "How dreadful"

[MTGPackFoils]

A man wearing a black cloak, and heavy armor takes a look at the various writings, noticing this one in particular. Taking it down he decides to add to it the following:

"Dreadful feelings rise and fall. Sometimes even from the grave."

[Rane]

*Another posting is made, his one like the other.*

And so he walked from the grave, cold and in pain. He glanced back to see the shattered tomb that was just recently his final place to rest. He had a new scar upon his neck, and burning fire in his heart. His anger shown in his eyes as he looked up to view the many who had come to save him. They stood in black cloaks and covered faces. The metal from their fine weapons shown in the moonlight and one approached him.

"We are happy to have you back."

He pushed the hand away from him and breathed deeply closing his eyes. His exhale sent smoke from his nostrils that added to the frosty breath that filled the cold night air.

"We have been fools" the man said.

Forward one of the cloaked figures stepped, and the others gathered near. The figure placed a hand on the man's shoulder and looked him in the eyes.

"Lord Kross, we will make it right."


Somewhere way up in the snowy mountains above a tiny town, several flashes could be seen as the group teleported away.

[Rane]

*Another Posting is Made*

The dark lord had been there all along, guiding him to this place for this purpose. Kross opened his eyes and flexed his hands.

His joints ached as he did so. His body was getting old. He took in the scenery of the Regal Griffon Inn. Many familiar faces dotted the dwelling, and many unfamiliar ones came and went.

Kross sat with his back to the stairs that would lead up to rooms for rent. He smiled and nodded to each person who passed but only that smile could be seen as his hood came down to block his eyes.

He would have to raise his head to actually see the person’s face he greeted. Most of the time he only saw their feet, and then their back if he turned to watch them ascend the stairs behind him.

Kross was full of pride. He never turned...

Memories flooded back to him as his consciousness took hold. He had only recently been mended back together.

He remembered a time when he was surrounded by several adventurers and asked who he served. Admittance to serving the dark lord delighted him so. It was a fine moment, and the looks on their faces brought him great joy.

He had escaped that day. Despite Phelzaron halting time, Kross’s spell had been successful. He had stepped from this mortal coil and effortlessly walked into the Bramble-wood where a leisurely stroll would take him home.

Even further back, memories of sounding a horn in town to summon a deadly Gru came to mind. He had sent the creature to attack while watching from the Ethereal world.

He remembered that the Vaunted had made known their intentions to undermine his own operation. So he had taken the horn that would summon one of their minions and used it against the village of Greatgaunt.

But plans do tend to change.

As the Gru entered the very Inn where Kross sat now, Holance a paladin was there. Kross smirked, remembering he and Holance had bumped into one another.

A grave thing indeed, because now Kross would have to leave his concealment and ensure the paladin was not a witness.

Kross lifted his drink from the small table in front of him and took a sip, savoring the burn as it traveled down his throat, and warmed his belly.

So many memories, so many battles won and lost. Yet this time things would be different.

To much was at stake for the petty squabbles he would often consume himself with. He stood and collected the writing from the table and pinned it to the wall.

A letter still remained upon the table that he left.

There was a simple seal upon it with the image of a Black hand. The name upon it read Alexander Kross.



*All of these events have transpired in game. All of these events have been written and posted upon the wall. And the letter does exist and is sitting there. If someone wants to pick up the letter and see what it entails, then simply message me.*

This thread is open for rp posts and there is sure to be a ton of IC rp happen soon.

[Rane]

*another posting is made. This one at the front of the board. Instead of a story, a direct proclamation is written*

It has been a long time yet I remember.

I remember the disrespect against my name, and the constant threats against my life.

I remember every name, every face, and every transgression.

But most important of all, “HE” remembers.

You will serve him, in life or in death.

Hail the Dark Lord, Hail Bane!

Signed,

Alexander Kross