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The Crowfall Chronicles - Part 1 Of ?


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You knew it was coming!  Crowfall does not have a lot of its world defined yet but there's enough there to start developing some personal lore and here's the beginning of what I hope will be a rich and diverse tale of life and death in the world of Crowfall.  I tend to write in chunks so I'll post whenever I get enough down on paper to move the story forward.

Olbuf swung his axe with a grunt and struck the trunk of a tree, burying the axehead deeply in the mossy wood.  There was some sort of rock in his boot and here in the deep, silent forest there was enough cover to take the time to get the blasted thing out.

He liked the silence.  Silence was satisfying and meant that the animals were cowering in their dens or frozen in place, waiting for him to pass through.  Silence meant no snapped twig could be undetected, no squeak of a bowstring being pulled could slip past his large but very keen ears.  His fool of a page  Trep could never understand the need for quiet and thus was back at the stronghold locked in the weapon room, furiously sharpening the greatswords and cursing feebly.

A drop splatted onto Olbuf’s meaty forehead.  He turned his face up, surprised at rain getting through such dense forest cover and looked into the eyes of a small form frozen on a tree limb above him, blood dripping from the branch.  With a howl he grabbed his axe, tore it from the tree trunk and whirled it neatly around, severing the branch above him and tumbling the bloody stranger onto the ground.

“I have Toral Root!” screeched the tiny fool as it fell past him and rolled to the side.  “Fine,” grunted Olbuf.  “I’ll take it from your body when you’re dead.”

“Not here – not with me…”

Olbuf  swung the axe in an erratic pattern, striking now randomly, now specifically, nearly splitting the creature in half several times.  It was surprisingly agile in spite of its wounds.  “Hold still.” he commanded “You’re making this unnecessarily difficult and I don’t have all day to kill you. Where is the Toral Root?”

The little one narrowly missed getting decapitated and made a sudden leap onto Olbuf’s back. “In your dreams, “ it whispered into Olbuf’s keen ear as a needle went into the side of his massive neck and he slumped to the ground. 


“Wake up! Master wake up!”

Olbuf was never one to oversleep and the frantic hissing in his ear combined with the rancid breath of the speaker was enough to have him start awake and reach for his axe.  His arm did not perform its usually instinctive response and his eyes narrowed with the realization that he was unable to move. 

Lack of movement was a problem.  Olbuf was a warrior, a fighter, a huge crag of a man that would sooner run all night after an enemy than rest by a fire sipping wine and trading tales. At the moment his face seemed to be the only thing mobile and his eyes darted in an effort to see what was restraining him and whether he could bite his way to freedom.  All he could see was that he was in the Great Hall of his castle, the Nest.

Something bumped against the side of his head and then swung twisting into view.  It was his page Trep, trussed upsidedown neatly with what looked like the rope from a grappling hook and hanging from the thick dusty rafters far above them.  Trep’s inverted head was about the same level as Olbuf’s face and his spittle kept spraying onto the warrior as Trep’s frantic whisper worked into a shout. 

“Quick! Before she comes back!  Oh she’s evil, evil and wicked and it’s not my fault Master, it’s not my fault.  She said you sent her and she had your axe as proof and I was so glad to get out of the weapons room and everything is very sharp in there now, you could split a hair on the Sword of Sorrows but I found a nick on the edge of the old Cursed Blade and I bet that’s what happened the curse got out of the blade and now it’s on us! It’s on us Master and she’s tricky and mean and she said you sent her and we’re cursed! She cursed us!”

“Silence!” roared Olbuf.  “Swing closer you fool.”

Trep did his best to wiggle and sway himself towards Olbuf like a demented pendulum, muttering all the while about curses and evil and the disadvantages of being hung upsidown as opposed to the apparently carefree experience of being tied up immobile against the iron window grill like Olbuf.  He managed to get a pretty good swing going and when he bumped into Olbuf’s face Olbuf locked his teeth on a bit of the rope binding Trep and in less than a minute had chewed through.

20 minutes later Trep fell to the ground with a thud and Olbuf’s face was a mass of rope splinters. “Get me free,” growled Olbuf. 

Part 2 of the Crowfall Chronicles  - http://community.crowfall.com/index.php?/topic/1477-the-crowfall-chronicles-part-2-of/ 


Map of the Nest -  http://community.crowfall.com/index.php?/topic/2578-crowfall-chronicles-nest-map/

Edited by Oridi


The Chronicles of Crowfall           The Free Lands of Azure            RIP Doc Gonzo.

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