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Questor
Moon
- Joined
- Oct 21, 2018
Warrior and Princess of Pangea
Pangea, a super continent of the world, long before man began recording history. Kingdoms that were lost in time and the separation of the land mass into what the modern world looks like. A time of heroes and villains, kingdoms and empires. A time of strange animals that disappeared long before the continent broke apart.
In this world mankind had come to be, and dredged themselves out of caves and crude dwellings to form large tribes, and then communities, and eventually Kingdoms with magnificent cities and monuments. Empires began and of course there were countless wars between the kingdoms, as each sought to become the dominant one in the world, ruling over the others.
The great city of Arthos was built in the year 1133 after many long years. It was a magnificent city with tall spires of polished granite that had bridges spanning between the towering structures. It was a powerful city ruled by a King that was loved by its people. He had risen up from being a common warrior to become the King through battle and leading the forces of Arthos to victory again and again. He had carved out a Kingdom that was rich and lay in the center of trade routes to other cities, and to those coastal cities to the west that brought goods from far away places on Pangea by sea.
It had enemies and the most powerful was an a group of large Islands of the Western Coast called Tyron. It was a sea faring kingdom with a great fleet of war ships and merchant ships. Like Argos it was a well known and hungered for more power. Many feared this Kingdom for its ships almost controlled the sea, but it could not exist with out the goods that other Kingdoms had and therefore was held in check most of the time.
Pangea's people had a cast system that the people lived by. There was the Warrior Cast that was the fighters of the world, the Physicians that healed and made wonder drugs that did many things for the people. The Merchant Cast was the one that traded goods throughout the land, formed the caravans that transported goods across the great distances or over the sea. The Builders were the ones that designed and built the great cities towers, temples and monuments. They were highly skilled. Then there was the cast of the Priests, that ran the Temples, prayed to the gods and offered them sacrifices. These were the High Casts of Pangea. There were others that made up the Lower Casts, and there were many. Though born into one cast one could always change their cast if they met the requirements. All but one if you called it a cast, and that was being a Slave. Seldom did a slave attain freedom, and it did not matter what cast you had been before. Once you were made a slave it seemed you would be a slave for the rest of your life.
Into this world Dakar was born. He was born to the Warrior Cast and was trained by his father to become a warrior. He was trained in the use of the sword, spear, shield, bow and arrow, and battle ax. He was trained to fight on foot or on horse back. He excelled in the way of the warrior and fought several battles for the city of Arthos, that he was born and raised in. He was known for his fierceness and bravery on the battle field, though a bit reckless at times that caused him to receive a number of lasting scars on his chest, arms and back. But he yearned for adventure and to see the world and what it had to offer. There were tales of the far off kingdoms to the south, east and west that filled him with the wandering lust that could not be dampened.
He gathered his weapons, horse, and armor along with supplies and a pack horse and set out. He knew he would be traveling through lands that were filled with danger, thieves, renegades, raiders and of course the soldiers of other kingdoms, that might look upon him as a spy or a threat. But that was part of the allure of venturing out to find adventure, fortune and glory. He sold his sword as a mercenary to any that could afford his price. Whether it was for guarding a caravan, or protecting a village from raiders, as he made his way to the east, where he had heard that there were exotic women that, were different then women he knew. Beautiful, and some times dangerous, and other times willing to satisfy a man's needs. But also of what some called magic. The ability to draw on a source of energy and weave it into what was called spells to do things. Tales of these spells from caravan masters, said these people could call lightning from the sky to strike down at people, throw great balls of fire that could engulf many and explode, killing them. Also of some that could touch a wounded man and heal his wounds or cure a sickness with a touch and a few words. Most he thought were just stories, made up to entertain, but one could never know until one saw for themselves or was able to disprove them.
So it was that he came to a Kingdom called Socara, and encountered a group of men and a wagon that had a cage on it. In the cage was a women, beautiful, and exotic looking to him. She was chained and looked defiant even in captivity. They were traveling in the opposite direction of what he was on the road. The men looked at him with suspicion and wearyness. The woman looked at him, her hands on the bars of the cage but said nothing. The men looked to be either mercenaries or bandits, by the look of their weapons and armor and just general look. He looked at them and smiled, his hand touching the hilt of his sword. "Now what do we have here?" he called out.
"Be on your way stranger." one of the men called back. All drew their weapons, as they moved up to form a line. There were four of them. A breeze waifed from behind them and their stench with it. Raiders, the scum of warriors. Fallen on hard times they had turned to robbing and terrorizing people. He grinned as he drew his sword and pulled his shield from his back and gripped the leather strap to hold the shield, as his forearm was encircled by another leather strap to help hold the shield on his arm.
A Highlander Tale (Alternate History)
The King of Scotland had a big problem. Actually he had two problems. The first was England. The English King had decided that Scotland needed to be invaded, conquered and made a part of England. Now this did not agree with the King of Scotland. But his army was not sufficient enough to repel any army that England was to send against Scotland. His Kingdom was divided. He had the clans of the Lowlands and those of the Highlands. The nobles and clans of the lowlands were mostly farmers and such but got along pretty well with each other. But the Highland Clans were a different story. There were constant clan wars and a general mistrust among the clans. They were fierce fighters and with the constant little wars, were well trained in the art of war. They seldom came when called and then only a couple of the clans perhaps. But they were apart of Scotland and obeyed the laws of Scotland and the King for the most part.
That was his problems and he could only think of one way that might unite the Highlanders and Lowlanders. He decreed that the Lairds, or the sons of the lairds of the Highlands would take a lowlander bride. He hoped that by doing this that the highlanders would wish to defend the clans of their brides and therefore join him when it came time for war. This made much grumbling among the lowlanders who thought the Highlanders were nothing more than savages, barbarians and unsuited to marry their daughters. But the King had made a royal decree and they were obliged to obey.
Now it didn't really set well with the clans of the Highlanders either, but they to obeyed the Kings Decree. So it was that Duncan McCloud of Clan McCloud set forth with four of his clan to go fetch is bride to be. Duncan was not really happy about the matter. His parents had married because they had fallen in love with each other and not because of some arrangement which was quite common. His father had died a couple years earlier from health reasons and left him to be the Laird of the Clan. He didn't want no empty headed, whining and scared of her own shadowed, weakling woman for a wife. The Highlander women were tough, high sprited. Oh there were those that thought noting of themselves of course and were probably empty headed. But he thought he had a better chance of finding one that was to his liking in the Highlander Clans. Duncan was a hansom, tall and strong man. His long light brown hair held the redish tint of his mother's hair. He was clean shaven and stood tall in the saddle. His cousin Angus rode beside him. He was a large man with a mass of red hair and beard. He was not a bad looking man but one could hardly tell with the beard.
So it came to pass that he came down from the Highlands with four of his clan to meet with the father of his bride to be. For the King had chosen families of various clans to be the ones to give up their daughters for the good of Scotland. The King had selected the families that would give up the brides. The soon approached the farmstead of one of the McNally Clan's families, the lowland clan that he was to take a bride from. As they approached Duncan saw the Head of the Family, one Cirus McNally standing before their humble home with his wife and two daughters.
The Knight and The Elf Princess
Tanner Maximus had followed his king to the shores of the Elven lands. He was an Eldrich Knight, skilled with the sword and bow yet one of a few gifted with the ability to tap into what was called by humans the Soul of the World. A force that if properly wielded could produce wonderous things and do things no other mortal could. He and those like him became the Eldrich Knights. The Knights of the Elders that long ago flurished but had since almost died out. The Soul of the World was not strong as it had been once in the lands of the humans.
Some thought that Mankind had squandered the powers that it had granted and that the world began taking back its power to keep it from the humans. But there was a little left and Tanner was one of a few that was still able to tap into it. When he reached the shores of the Elven lands that power began to increase with in him and the small band of Eldrich Knights that he lead. He began to learn things in his mind as if the world itself was teaching him. Things that he and the others needed to keep secret for the time being.
Tanner and his fellow Eldrich Knights had sworn an oath the the King. They would fight for him and defend him as long as he did not go against their code.
During a battle away from the main army's advance Tanner and his knights found a detachment of Elven Warriors. He offered them a chance to surrender, but they refused and the battle was joined. Some of the Elven Warriors died, others ran off to fight another day, but one continued to fight Tanner. He was good at fighting. He put Tanner to the test and was proving to be a hard opponent. His knights stood back, knowing Tanner did not want any help, a matter of honor one would say. Tanner fought with honor and when he was able to disarm his opponent he offered the mans sword back to him to continue the fight or not. The same was true about the Elven warrior who inturn did the same to him.
It was rare indeed to find an opponent that also had such honor and fair play. They battled for some time and the Elf made a mistake that lead to him being serverly wounded. If he did not get help he would die, and Tanner knew that in the humans camp he would not get the help he needed, and he was not about to leave such a warrior to die on the battle field. He picked him up and put him on his own horse and rode off in the directions those that fled went. He had heard there was some sort of encampment not to far from them. Perhaps they had a healer among them. What he had heard of these healers, they could heal the most grevious of wounds, bringing those at death door back so that they might fight again.
It did not take them long to find the encampment in a forested area. As they approached it the civilians ran in terror, trying to hide, thinking that they were going to be murdered. Tanner dismounted as he had his men stop and hold their position. He eased the wounded warrior off his horse and carried him forward. He had learned the language of the Elves from prisoners and called out in their language, "Is there a Healer here among you. This Warrior needs immediate attention or he will die."
Pangea, a super continent of the world, long before man began recording history. Kingdoms that were lost in time and the separation of the land mass into what the modern world looks like. A time of heroes and villains, kingdoms and empires. A time of strange animals that disappeared long before the continent broke apart.
In this world mankind had come to be, and dredged themselves out of caves and crude dwellings to form large tribes, and then communities, and eventually Kingdoms with magnificent cities and monuments. Empires began and of course there were countless wars between the kingdoms, as each sought to become the dominant one in the world, ruling over the others.
The great city of Arthos was built in the year 1133 after many long years. It was a magnificent city with tall spires of polished granite that had bridges spanning between the towering structures. It was a powerful city ruled by a King that was loved by its people. He had risen up from being a common warrior to become the King through battle and leading the forces of Arthos to victory again and again. He had carved out a Kingdom that was rich and lay in the center of trade routes to other cities, and to those coastal cities to the west that brought goods from far away places on Pangea by sea.
It had enemies and the most powerful was an a group of large Islands of the Western Coast called Tyron. It was a sea faring kingdom with a great fleet of war ships and merchant ships. Like Argos it was a well known and hungered for more power. Many feared this Kingdom for its ships almost controlled the sea, but it could not exist with out the goods that other Kingdoms had and therefore was held in check most of the time.
Pangea's people had a cast system that the people lived by. There was the Warrior Cast that was the fighters of the world, the Physicians that healed and made wonder drugs that did many things for the people. The Merchant Cast was the one that traded goods throughout the land, formed the caravans that transported goods across the great distances or over the sea. The Builders were the ones that designed and built the great cities towers, temples and monuments. They were highly skilled. Then there was the cast of the Priests, that ran the Temples, prayed to the gods and offered them sacrifices. These were the High Casts of Pangea. There were others that made up the Lower Casts, and there were many. Though born into one cast one could always change their cast if they met the requirements. All but one if you called it a cast, and that was being a Slave. Seldom did a slave attain freedom, and it did not matter what cast you had been before. Once you were made a slave it seemed you would be a slave for the rest of your life.
Into this world Dakar was born. He was born to the Warrior Cast and was trained by his father to become a warrior. He was trained in the use of the sword, spear, shield, bow and arrow, and battle ax. He was trained to fight on foot or on horse back. He excelled in the way of the warrior and fought several battles for the city of Arthos, that he was born and raised in. He was known for his fierceness and bravery on the battle field, though a bit reckless at times that caused him to receive a number of lasting scars on his chest, arms and back. But he yearned for adventure and to see the world and what it had to offer. There were tales of the far off kingdoms to the south, east and west that filled him with the wandering lust that could not be dampened.
He gathered his weapons, horse, and armor along with supplies and a pack horse and set out. He knew he would be traveling through lands that were filled with danger, thieves, renegades, raiders and of course the soldiers of other kingdoms, that might look upon him as a spy or a threat. But that was part of the allure of venturing out to find adventure, fortune and glory. He sold his sword as a mercenary to any that could afford his price. Whether it was for guarding a caravan, or protecting a village from raiders, as he made his way to the east, where he had heard that there were exotic women that, were different then women he knew. Beautiful, and some times dangerous, and other times willing to satisfy a man's needs. But also of what some called magic. The ability to draw on a source of energy and weave it into what was called spells to do things. Tales of these spells from caravan masters, said these people could call lightning from the sky to strike down at people, throw great balls of fire that could engulf many and explode, killing them. Also of some that could touch a wounded man and heal his wounds or cure a sickness with a touch and a few words. Most he thought were just stories, made up to entertain, but one could never know until one saw for themselves or was able to disprove them.
So it was that he came to a Kingdom called Socara, and encountered a group of men and a wagon that had a cage on it. In the cage was a women, beautiful, and exotic looking to him. She was chained and looked defiant even in captivity. They were traveling in the opposite direction of what he was on the road. The men looked at him with suspicion and wearyness. The woman looked at him, her hands on the bars of the cage but said nothing. The men looked to be either mercenaries or bandits, by the look of their weapons and armor and just general look. He looked at them and smiled, his hand touching the hilt of his sword. "Now what do we have here?" he called out.
"Be on your way stranger." one of the men called back. All drew their weapons, as they moved up to form a line. There were four of them. A breeze waifed from behind them and their stench with it. Raiders, the scum of warriors. Fallen on hard times they had turned to robbing and terrorizing people. He grinned as he drew his sword and pulled his shield from his back and gripped the leather strap to hold the shield, as his forearm was encircled by another leather strap to help hold the shield on his arm.
A Highlander Tale (Alternate History)
The King of Scotland had a big problem. Actually he had two problems. The first was England. The English King had decided that Scotland needed to be invaded, conquered and made a part of England. Now this did not agree with the King of Scotland. But his army was not sufficient enough to repel any army that England was to send against Scotland. His Kingdom was divided. He had the clans of the Lowlands and those of the Highlands. The nobles and clans of the lowlands were mostly farmers and such but got along pretty well with each other. But the Highland Clans were a different story. There were constant clan wars and a general mistrust among the clans. They were fierce fighters and with the constant little wars, were well trained in the art of war. They seldom came when called and then only a couple of the clans perhaps. But they were apart of Scotland and obeyed the laws of Scotland and the King for the most part.
That was his problems and he could only think of one way that might unite the Highlanders and Lowlanders. He decreed that the Lairds, or the sons of the lairds of the Highlands would take a lowlander bride. He hoped that by doing this that the highlanders would wish to defend the clans of their brides and therefore join him when it came time for war. This made much grumbling among the lowlanders who thought the Highlanders were nothing more than savages, barbarians and unsuited to marry their daughters. But the King had made a royal decree and they were obliged to obey.
Now it didn't really set well with the clans of the Highlanders either, but they to obeyed the Kings Decree. So it was that Duncan McCloud of Clan McCloud set forth with four of his clan to go fetch is bride to be. Duncan was not really happy about the matter. His parents had married because they had fallen in love with each other and not because of some arrangement which was quite common. His father had died a couple years earlier from health reasons and left him to be the Laird of the Clan. He didn't want no empty headed, whining and scared of her own shadowed, weakling woman for a wife. The Highlander women were tough, high sprited. Oh there were those that thought noting of themselves of course and were probably empty headed. But he thought he had a better chance of finding one that was to his liking in the Highlander Clans. Duncan was a hansom, tall and strong man. His long light brown hair held the redish tint of his mother's hair. He was clean shaven and stood tall in the saddle. His cousin Angus rode beside him. He was a large man with a mass of red hair and beard. He was not a bad looking man but one could hardly tell with the beard.
So it came to pass that he came down from the Highlands with four of his clan to meet with the father of his bride to be. For the King had chosen families of various clans to be the ones to give up their daughters for the good of Scotland. The King had selected the families that would give up the brides. The soon approached the farmstead of one of the McNally Clan's families, the lowland clan that he was to take a bride from. As they approached Duncan saw the Head of the Family, one Cirus McNally standing before their humble home with his wife and two daughters.
The Knight and The Elf Princess
Tanner Maximus had followed his king to the shores of the Elven lands. He was an Eldrich Knight, skilled with the sword and bow yet one of a few gifted with the ability to tap into what was called by humans the Soul of the World. A force that if properly wielded could produce wonderous things and do things no other mortal could. He and those like him became the Eldrich Knights. The Knights of the Elders that long ago flurished but had since almost died out. The Soul of the World was not strong as it had been once in the lands of the humans.
Some thought that Mankind had squandered the powers that it had granted and that the world began taking back its power to keep it from the humans. But there was a little left and Tanner was one of a few that was still able to tap into it. When he reached the shores of the Elven lands that power began to increase with in him and the small band of Eldrich Knights that he lead. He began to learn things in his mind as if the world itself was teaching him. Things that he and the others needed to keep secret for the time being.
Tanner and his fellow Eldrich Knights had sworn an oath the the King. They would fight for him and defend him as long as he did not go against their code.
During a battle away from the main army's advance Tanner and his knights found a detachment of Elven Warriors. He offered them a chance to surrender, but they refused and the battle was joined. Some of the Elven Warriors died, others ran off to fight another day, but one continued to fight Tanner. He was good at fighting. He put Tanner to the test and was proving to be a hard opponent. His knights stood back, knowing Tanner did not want any help, a matter of honor one would say. Tanner fought with honor and when he was able to disarm his opponent he offered the mans sword back to him to continue the fight or not. The same was true about the Elven warrior who inturn did the same to him.
It was rare indeed to find an opponent that also had such honor and fair play. They battled for some time and the Elf made a mistake that lead to him being serverly wounded. If he did not get help he would die, and Tanner knew that in the humans camp he would not get the help he needed, and he was not about to leave such a warrior to die on the battle field. He picked him up and put him on his own horse and rode off in the directions those that fled went. He had heard there was some sort of encampment not to far from them. Perhaps they had a healer among them. What he had heard of these healers, they could heal the most grevious of wounds, bringing those at death door back so that they might fight again.
It did not take them long to find the encampment in a forested area. As they approached it the civilians ran in terror, trying to hide, thinking that they were going to be murdered. Tanner dismounted as he had his men stop and hold their position. He eased the wounded warrior off his horse and carried him forward. He had learned the language of the Elves from prisoners and called out in their language, "Is there a Healer here among you. This Warrior needs immediate attention or he will die."
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