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Friday, October 14, 2011

A discussion on Starfang with the drunken sage Xunemon of Arduin (Plot Idea)

Starfang? By Megalon’s brass balls I know it! Many a man and Dwarf have left his life in that place, seeking the wonders of the sky piercing mountain. What wonders, you ask? Are you daft? Never heard of the Dymurian Dragon? Pamalon’s Eye? Or, the Starkiss? Wondrous stones each, all with powers and fates to make a hard man tremble. More? Where is my beer? That’s better. More, well I could tell you tales of many the adventurers’ bones that litter the place but how about something a little rarer? Got any coin? Aye, now that is a tidy sum indeed! Must be interested more than I thought—what’s that? Hammer’s Fist? I have heard of such place—Haephestus lovers in Viruelandia, isn’t it? You? Really? Not what I thought the founder would look like but you sure drink beer like a smith! What’s that? What I promised? Of course! I challenge you to find another person who knows what I am about to tell you—outside of Ghôrhia, perhaps. Ghôrhia? Well, he probably knows more than I but…where is he? I know we are fast becoming friends but I have expenses…oh. Well, now that is…curse you! I should have asked for more had I know you were so wealthy. Aye, aye, I am good to my word. Few know this but a demigod was slain on the cloud littered steps of the High Gates of Starfang. His name was Kuhur-Khonkkiail. I gather you can tell from its pronunciation, it is Old Dwarven but in very archaic form. Anyway, he was a prominent godling for the Starfang Dwarves if not overly powerful. His fall and the blood spilled down those cloudy steps supposedly are the fuel for the great curse that lingers on the deep hold… Ghôrhia? I said I would, didn’t I? He lies in Talafar, in the small town of Tior-dortti. He has a fondness for young women, strong drink and music sung in the Chrysolian style, which he believes is better than all others. He’s independently wealthy and is unashamed about it. He’s a third cousin from the monarch and enjoys the protection that provides him, as the monarch’s own royal soldiery (the Cold Stream Royal Guard) as his bodyguards.

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