DARKNESS, A TRADITIONAL RP
Time has come, one and all, for the journey to begin. Please try to post at least once per update, to a good standard. Some updates, it will be beneficial to do so more than once per update - I'm not stopping you, please do. It is also worth checking the map and names to provinces on the recruitment to identify where on Kolnur we are. Anyway, without further ado, let us begin the Darkness Traditional RP.
The new dawn was rising on Megant, the westernmost nation on Kolnur, its buildings gleaming in the morning sun. This area of Jurma (one of the nation’s provinces) was just less than normal for the seafaring nation, with most buildings made of dirtied white marble, and a few made of baser materials. The city of Jurma itself was several miles away to the north, closer to the wastelands that lie to the west, and was constructed entirely of gleaming marble, cleaned monthly - unlike most of Kolnur. Jurma was always one of the nation’s nicest cities, and many took their retirement there, even those from other nations. The large port town in question, however, was known as Wyrmsport, after the cave that formed most of its dock, which was reputed to have been inhabited by a sea wyrm once. It wasn't the nicest of cities, but it was cosy and inhabitable.
For years, there had been peace and prosperity, but those days were gone: the Shadow had arrived. There had been reports of undead movement around all of Kolnur’s nations, something which greatly disturbed the world’s powers and leaders. The scouts in the wastelands had been reporting movement for the first time in centuries, and Megant was worried.
But the day was not one to worry about the political affairs and the situations of nations, for this was a day for the individual. In Wyrmsport, there was an open-air bar known as the Sea Wyrm Bar, reputed for being one of the least savoury places in the city. The bar served food and drinks all day, and had well over a dozen rooms for travellers, hanging over the Wyrm’s Cave. The bar itself was half indoors, half out, the actual building part made and held up by seaweed-covered wood. In the only secluded corner of the bar was a round table, and this is where our adventure shall begin.
Around the table sat a variety of characters, not a strange sight in Wyrmsport, but their motives were less than ordinary. Hemjeg, the town’s resident senile sailor, was, as normal, telling drunken stories with more than a little truth to them. Hemjeg was known by locals to be somewhat of a drunkard, taken to recounting stories both inane and fantastical, and being very grumpy, a feature which waxed and waned based on how drunk he was. These people had never met him before, but had seen his posters around the city, offering a bounty of treasure and a merry sea journey, and had come to hear whatever he had to say.
“All ye who listen,” He shouted. “I shall tell ye the tale of the Gemstone Cavern, tha’ ol' mystical cave which everyone looks for.”
The group leaned in towards the middle of the table, anxious to hear the old man’s insane story. The drinks on the table were shifted forwards towards the central candle, which was barely surviving the breeze coming in from the sea.
“They say tha’ what you wish for becomes wha’ you get in that magical place. Anything tha’ a man wishes for, he gets. I think those nonhuman folk get it too, but I be na’ too sure on tha’.” A few non-human bar patrons looked at him disparagingly for his dry racism, then returned to their drinks. “A dragon’s hoard, a sword tha’ cuts through anything, even the booze and wenches you’ve always dreamed o’. Prophecies tell of a group tha’ll go find it, one day. Now, I’m going o’er to the west in a few days, so if you want to go find the Cavern, I’m happy to let ya on, for a fee…”
The old man walked away from the table quite suddenly, having delivered his offer, and then turned again with a sharpness that belied his age. “Oh, di’ I mention? I know where it be hidden.” He turned again and walked out, taking a mighty swig of his booze and stumbling around. Even the thickest at the table knew he just wanted money, but was his tale genuine? Was the cavern real? It was a well-known nursery rhyme on Kolnur, the tale of the Cavern of Dreams – could this be it? The listeners began to talk, getting to know those that they may be working with on this wild goose chase, and discussing the truthfulness of Hemjeg’s tale. Whatever happened now would set the fate of Kolnur, and the fates were watching eagerly.