Author Topic: Background fluff for my soon-to-be-barbarian...  (Read 1619 times)

Offline SolEiji

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Background fluff for my soon-to-be-barbarian...
« on: May 08, 2014, 07:30:34 AM »
The following were excerpts taken out of the travel diary of one Sir Gallifrey Francis Kasterborous, an explorer of the planes.

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Dear diary, I have come upon a most auspicious discovery in the midst of threat and danger encountered while gallivanting around the southeastern islands of San Snagitte in search for buried orcish gold.  But to properly expound on my encounter I must first elucidate on the subject of some of the local legends and myths around these islands and the surrounding landmass, especially near the forested areas and expansive vedlt.  It deals with a particular tale of "The Black Demon", a horrifying fiend which walks the earth at the darkest nights, raiding into towns to steal food, livestock, and jewelry and to cause distress in young babies and right-standing women.  This demon, they say, is not merely a incorrigible thief but a monster in battle.  "All those which face the Black Beast perish" they say, brought low by the demon's skin of solid iron and sword made of the essence of darkness itself.  A horrid thing no paladin has yet to smite, and no man has strength or valor to drive off.  Indeed the only thing which seems to keep this legend from drawing the attention of good-natured heroes and knights seems to be its status as an unconfirmed urban legend, folklore likely due to rarity of attacks or merely it being untrue.  In my journeys I would come upon small villages who claimed who have been plagued by the Black Demon for weeks before it seemed to pass, and many were keen to blame various misfortunes and calamities upon it.  I cannot ascertain the truthfulness of their accounts, only speak of the sincerity of their pleas.  To further muddle the waters of clear thought the description of the Black Demon is also a matter of debate, for few have seen it up close and fewer in anything but blackest night.

From various retellings of the story I managed to piece together several clues which were repeated, and thus have a more verifiable nature to them.  The Black Demon seems to be humanoid at least, with dark skin and darker hair, if any, and yet eyes which glow a bright green "like the most toxic sap of woundwort".  It bears a crown of jewels upon a head adorned with the horns of bull, teeth like a bear trap, and claws of a wild giant cougar, and it is surrounded by a fell aura of poisonous miasma which chokes the life of all which draw near.  Its breath is fatal and its shout can rot wood, stone, and flesh alike with the searing agony of the deep abyss.  Vast bat-like wings let the Black Demon chase its opponent down with the speed of greased lightning, and even on foot it can outrun all manner of horses.  Its body is made of iron, and its seems to wear no armor nor need any.  And yet for all it has in defense, its offense is also terrifying as it is said to have the strength of 10,000 men and it carries a massive blade like a executioner's guillotine on a shaft which roars like a giant beast.  The exact shape and nature of the blade shifts from account to account, but all seem to agree the blade is black as night and possesses "a brilliant green edge" which itself seemed to be made of flames.

Quote from: My Illustrations of the Black Demon


Imaginative storytelling at its finest, and certainly material for a story of flight and fancy.  But what manner do these tales involve me?  As it would so happen I had taken a late night caravan right out of the village of Vendrick after a unfortunate misunderstanding with the locals caused my welcome to be cut a bit short.  As my fortunes had not yet turned favorable it would thus happen that our caravan and its guardians were then assaulted by the Black Demon.  Brave as I am, I was encouraged by events to take shelter within the storage compartment of our ride as the craven crew found it better to jump ship and not attempt to liberate the vehicle from the simple but effective pit trap it had become ensnared in.  Unable to leave my place of security due to a minor issue of the vehicle's storage lock being rusty and slipshod, I was forced to endure the capture and hijacking of our caravan to parts unknown and was not noticed until early morning when our captors opened the trunk and discovered me!  Of course I was ready to give them what for, demon or not, but to my surprise it seemed to merely be a series of kobold bandits and one unusual woman with a very telling weapon.

Quote from: The Sword


The black sword.  Though there was no sight of the demon, but the sword was unmistakably the very same blade described in the myth and briefly seen the night before.  While the kobolds wielded spears and other crude instruments of violence, this otherworldly thing was a masterworked marvel ill fitting for the likes of mere bandits.  Though I aspired to return it to some collector's museum to be studied and admired proper, there were more pressing concerns about life and security at hand as the woman (who could scarcely be defined as such) proceeded to come down with a case of the hysterics and spoke a crude broken form of common to me rich with threats of bodily harm and amid cries from her companions on what to do with me.  As it so turned out, before I could sustain serious injuries the woman was beguiled and charmed by myself and apparently the contents of my jacket.  You see, I had stored some peaches from overseas for later consumption, preserved for the long trip, and frankly forgotten about until now.  However the barbarian woman's nose picked up its fragrance and found it enough to give pause to her actions.  She pilfered the fruit from my jacket and then, mouth full of ill-gotten goods, demanded more on pain of death.  Sadly while I could not produce more, my quick mind came to my rescue as I made a deal with the ruffian.  As I argued, I am an upstanding citizen well liked in the community and knowledgeable of the location of several grocers of her product, and I would be able to purchase more of this particular brand of overseas stock (with my own funding, as a show of good faith and to discourage her from simply robbing the poor merchants blind) provided I was granted safe passage and was allowed inquiry about her weapon of choice.  She was either confused or offended, I could not exactly tell, and haggling continued until I let slip my scholarly nature as a reason why she should not indeed "punch my face in".  She took interest in my previous studies of dragons (refer to my previous manuscript "The Fivefold: Investigations into dragonkind and their relation to the Abyss") and it was enough to get her to agree to terms.  I would show her where to find my brand of peaches, and what knowledge I knew of the dragons, and in return I would both be safe from harm and be provided knowledge of herself and her sword.  And thus I am left here to expound upon things and review recent events.

Now all this time I had referred to the only human member of this bandit crew as a woman, and this is true, but she is of no woman a civilized gentleman would know.  Though female in gender this woman has the musculature of a fit strongman, with biceps I regret to say dwarf my own or even most men I have encountered.  She is clothed in mere robed and a leather pleated skirt meant for combat, no proper dress in sight, with shockingly exposed ankles and bare feet no doubt as rough as a pier.  Though her earthen skin is unusually smooth for a barbarian, I am of the belief that she merely heals scars well for there is no shortage of roughhousing and bloodshed caused by her.  Her raven hair is messy and uncombed, she lacks any sort of manners, referring to me as "Gal" and calling it a girl's name, and her Common is choppy and broken, often refusing to use "I" in favor of her name, "Momo".  An ill fitting name for someone who turned out to be none other than the Black Demon.

Quote from: No amount of care could make "Momo" a proper lady, I assure you.


That is right my fellow gentleman, the Black Demon is none other than this clever woman and her band of misanthropes.  But I would not be writing this entry in such length if it were merely some hoax, for the woman herself is as unbelievable and mythic as the stories which surround her.  Though her skin is not black iron, it is dark as mud after a heavy summer's rain.  Her eyes do shine with an unnerving and unnatural green hue which appears nearly feline, and her breath does carry an unusual spoor akin to the alchemical reagents used to purify the pools in the Silver District of Higharch.  Her hands, teeth, and head seem normal... sometimes.  Through some manner of witchcraft she is able to grow feral claws, fangs, and a fiendish pair of horns at times which I observed her in her frenzied anger during a recent battle (the less I recall of it the better) as well as growing the appearance of two great scaled green wings.  It is certain I have identified her correctly as one of those humans who were tainted by draconic linage and thus gained sorcerous magical and biological abnormalities.  This pitiful mutant was clearly ejected from her parents upon seeing her become an abomination and fell into a life of crime and villainy.  I feel a modicum of empathy for the beast, but a beast she remains.  At the least she seems to be the leader in this troupe, and the strongest as we encountered some manner of armored terror, a bulette if I recall correctly, which she single-handedly wrestled to the ground and broke its back.  The strength of 10,000 men seems not far off and surely the draconic heritage she possesses has certainly made her more than human.

Tomorrow I shall inquire about her sword and her nature.  For the moment I am simply satisfied to be alive and well.  When we reach our intended destination I will be sure to alert the authorities (I fear no reprisal as not only do I keep my diary well hidden but I doubt she is even literate) but will have quite the story to tell about "The Black Demon of Sansnagitte".

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Dear diary, my current situation fairs well in spite of the constant yapping of the reptilian rats which that woman keeps around as aid.  Sleep was less than satisfying, but I must make do with what little I have and remember that I was put here for a reason.  On the subject of those rats, I surmised the kobolds to be named Zoq, Fot, and Pik.  I do not know which one is which, and just associate them as the green one, the brown one, and the blue one for the sake of my own sanity.  They are difficult to work with, as my knowledge of draconic fails with how fast they jabber on.  They mostly seem to be focused on "playing from frungy" when they reach home and making fun of some "zebranky" thing which I am hoping is not a reference to myself.  Momo seems much more adept at speaking this tongue with the others, and it has been the main method of communique with exceptions of the times I ask a direct question.  And on the matter of questions, I was able to perform an interview with her today during a moment of quiet.  The following is a transcription of the events therewith.

Myself: Excuse me, Momo was it?  About yesterday, you agreed you would answer a few of my questions?

Momo: Ahnok, mey!  You want talk right?  You tell Momo about what you know about dragons?

Myself: Of course of course, all in due time.  But first a request?  (Momo proceeded to give a grunt which I presumed was to continue) Can you loosen the noose about my neck?  It is most discomforting and...

Momo: Nuh uh, little man will run, Momo knows better.  No running until Momo says running.  Then lots of running, ahahahahahaha!  (I will never understand her sense of humor)

Myself: Right, well then, if that won't be done let me at least start out with a thank you for keeping me alive and well.  I had a few questions about yourself and your sword.  First one; you are the "Black Demon", are you not?

Momo: Black... Demon?  Ahahaha, ah, right!  Black Demon, already forgot.  Yeah, they eyesight not very good.  Momo is clearly no demon, Momo is Momo, who is also dragon.

Myself: Yes, dragon.  I noticed you were dragonblooded before with that bulette.  Excellent work might I add, simply smashing. 

Momo: Much smashing, then eating.

Myself: Well then, I did notice you were dragonblooded and your scales indicate green dragon blood.  I don't suppose you know who the... donor of your genetic breed is?  (I appear to have confused her, and so I attempt to restate) Who are your parents?

Momo: Dunno.  Dragonscales are parents now.  Good people, nice people.

Myself: Oh, you are a member of the dragonscale clan?  (As a note, they are uncivilized barbarians, but I do not know the extent of their banditry practices nor if they actually extend down into these parts, I suspected she was out of her element)

Momo: Yesssssssh.  Not now.  Well, still now.  But Momo is on journey and not go back until things are fixed.

Myself: What manner of journey are you on Momo?

Momo: That not important.  What is important is something else to do out here besides find food and shiny things.  Momo is looking for someone.

Myself: Oh?

Momo: A dragon.

Myself: Oh!

Momo: When Momo was a little wyrmling, she had best friend named Verdigris.  Always had much fun with Veedy, Momo would go into lair and he would chase.  And we would wrestle and play "rock toss".  And that one time he took Momo skydiving, or the time he taught Momo how to swim by putting her in the lake... (Entry redacted for sake of length, but suffice she began to wax on poetically about her fun childhood adventures with what I can only surmise to be a medium to large sized green dragon of questionable friendship material, as many accounts sound like the thing is trying to murder her instead)  This is why Momo is looking for him.  Veedy left 7 years ago and Momo misses him.  Also, never finished rematch.  Last one was a draw.

Myself: I see.  And you want me to help you find this Verdigris...

Momo: Yup.  That, and peaches.

Myself: You like peaches, don't you?  Yes yes, we will get some.  More questions if you will; why banditry?

Momo: Not bandits.  Was trying to get, see, but vofahdonus jul... not very nice to Momo or Momo's friends.  Call us monsters, not sell things.  So we played a prank and scare them, and get food.  Am very careful not to scare to death, anyway they always run before I can get them.  Except stupid ones, there was that really mean guy with the hammer.  But Momo is greater than hammer, so hammer broke and then man broke.  Didn't mean to hit that hard, wish he told me he was made of paper and sticks.

Myself: I... I see.

Momo: Really who carries hammer that big and then isn't strong enough to take hammer blow in face?  Is not right, no training, no umph.  Rem volzah...

Myself: Speaking of weapons, thats a very impressive sword you have there.

Momo: Momo got it by self.  Veedy needed a favor to get sparklies from another hole with monsters in it, so Vee sent me.  And I found a bunch of cool things, but Momo kept the sword.  Friends now, keeps me company, good for hitting things.

Myself: Ah so you found it.  What is it called?

Momo: Aaaaaaaa!!!!

Myself: Oh heavens what is the matter!?!?

Momo: Not what, who!

Myself: What?

Momo: You dense?

Myself: I.... no.  Why are you screaming?

Momo: This is name of sword.  Momo didn't name it, but everyone says its name before I hit them.  Think they recognize it?  Surprised you didn't, see?  (She proceeded to act most recklessly with the sharpened edge)

Myself: Aaaaaa!!!!

Momo: Oh, so you did know.  Silly to ask then.

Myself: Please... please that's enough.  I do think... I do think this shall do for now.  We have another day's travel?  I'll ask more then, I need to... lay down and think.

Momo: Suit yourself.  Zoq!  Fot!  Pik!  Ilro bo!

I think I will ask about her weaknesses next time so that I will not have to go through the harrowing experience of talking to her again.

-----------------------

Dear dairy, I awoke to find the vehicle was at a standstill and my own bonds had been tightened and re-enforced by that detestable trio Zoq Fot Pik, who were all nervously standing guard over me.  Momo was nowhere in sight and they proved most un-pliable when it came to the terms of my release.  Apparently that reckless woman simply left them here with orders to make sure I didn't leave in her absence as she was "gone".  All they kept saying was "the spooky wizard by the coast" was up to no good again, if my draconic translation holds up.  I don't know what exactly was happening, but it was a good 3 hours before Momo abruptly appeared in front of me and the others at the front of the cart with a few fresh bruises and a sack slung over her shoulder.  She seemed to be in hale spirits, and the kobolds seemed pleased and relieved at her return.  After some meddling I managed to reveal this is not the first time its happened, and it seems doubtful that a muscle-minded individual such as herself has the spiritual capacity for high level conjurations such as the apparent teleport spell she was employing.  They wouldn't talk about it, but I did notice a marking, some manner of tribal tattoo I had previously noticed on the nape of her neck and dismissed as decoration, faintly glowing for a few minutes on her entrance.  Some manner of runic spell?  I had neither time nor ability to spellcraft its nature before we were off again at a vigorous pace to "make up for lost time".

Quite piqued at this point, I nevertheless put it all behind me and discovered that my freedom should be ready by nightfall.  We were quickly approaching the shoreline where I had directed her to find trade for the peaches.  I had also given her some information on "Verdigris" or rather green dragons as that specific dragon was not known to me.  More accurately I directed her to a known dragon's lair of some strength and power who would surely devour even her and her magic sword.  Speaking of which, I planned to abscond with the sword upon my departure as it is certainly ill fit in the hands of criminals.  I will return it to its rightful place in the halls of knowledge where it belongs.  Fortunately Momo seemed to have warmed up to my presence and was letting her guard down more and more, and she proved able to be beguiled that my words were much more accurate and on the point than reality would have.  I have no regrets about tricking her, as she is in the end an uncivilized barbarian and woman or no, she needs to face the full extent of the law and learn her place.  It will not be long, and soon I will leave.  I look forward to tonight's entry on my escape and the closure of this unusual chapter in my saga.  Regards, Sir Kasterborous.

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DEAR DAIRY
MOMO CAN READ AND YOU ARE DUMB

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The journal abruptly ends here.  The current whereabouts of Sir Gallifrey Francis Kasterborous are unknown.
Mudada.