Yggdrasil Saga

Getting Schooled
Adventurers doing what they do best

Part 1 – Battle at hand
Part 2 – Meeting the crew
Part 3 – Chasing the Dr.

1

Date in Eberron: Zol. Eyre, 17th, 998YK. 05:29

...They throw open the door and charge head long into a hail of deadly crossbow bolts. As Gray and Willis close with their enemy, the knights switch weapons for close quarters combat; drawing sword and shield.
“Lets see how you deal with this!” Shouts Willis keeping his opponent at bay with the killing end of a long sharp pike.
The knight in green armor screams back, “For the Order of the Emerald Claw!” and exchanges blows with Willis pushing him back on his heals. Willis furiously trys to land a killing blow, but he is forced to take steps backward so that the tip of the knights sword dose not get within striking distance. The knight drives forward, guarding with his shield and pressing his attack.
Then, almost out of no-where, Grey steps in and cries, “Crusader’s STRIKE!”, dropping his target in one fell swoop. His mighty great sword cuts through the knight like a tin can and his body falls to the ground with a thud in two gory pieces.
Willis stands in amazement. He looks at Grey’s sword. He looks at his spear, “I’ve got to get me one of those”
The hero’s slaughter their remaining assailants and make for their escape. Along the way, they are bemused by the strange advanced technologies that work within the crumbling facility. Yet there is little time to study their surroundings. They must avoid fires and falling ruble, all of which is beginning to feel a little too familiar. Only this time, they battle through Emerald Claw knights and their undead cannon fodder, all the while being guided by an alien telepathic voice whom they have no choice but to trust for the moment.
Slicing and dicing their way through the armored goons and leaping over their fallen bodies the duo eventually come upon a half-elf man who sits propped against a wall, clutching a wound as blood from the gash slowly changes the color of his uniform. He is the only surviver of the Emerald Claw attack that they have come across and Willis decides he is worth saving.
“Well, as I live and breath, so the resurrection project worked. Of course, I wont be living and breathing much longer if I cant stop this bleeding.”
“If you will answer some questions I can see that your wound gets a proper bandage.” says Willis.
“That sounds agreeable, if you can manage not to do more harm than good with those hairy mits of yours.”
“You mentioned the resurrection project, what is it and who is in charge?” Asks Grey while Willis carefully wraps the mans ribs.
“I guess they didnt have time to tell you eh? Well Im not sure this is information I should be giving you, but I suppose you will find out sooner or later. You two have been dead for a while the Black Hand brought you back to life.”
Willis probs him for more information “From what I remember, the black hand is a terrorist group, why would they be interested in us?”
“I cant say” the half-elf’s reply is an obvious lie so Willis pulls the bandage tighter “Ouch! Theres no need for that, I’ll tell you what I know, but its not as if Im hiding anything. You two are powerful warriors and great leaders. Your contributions in the Last War won you some popularity and the black hand thinks your to valuable to let slip into the afterlife.”
Willis cocks an eyebrow “The Last War? To what do you refer?”.
“A lot has happened while you two where resting in peace” another rumble reminds them that the battle has not paused during their conversation, “Dragon above! Look, I’ll be happy to play 20 questions with you later, but for now I think it might be better if we got moving.”
Grey gives him the steely eye “How do we know we can trust you?”
“You think I can fight my way out of here without you? I can hardly move on my own, so I wont betray you for as least as long as it takes us to get out of here.” the half-elf glibly replys.
“Tell us your name” demands Willis.
The half-elf atempts a shallow bow “Sirvash d’Lyrandar at your service, though I forsook my house some time ago.”

2
3

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Pre...

Date in Eberron: Mon. Barrakas, 11th, 996YK. Three weeks prior to the signing of the Treaty of Thronehold

“Leave him, we’v got what we need” echoes a hollow metallic voice from the war machine known only as Grey.
“Hey, Im not done with you!” squatting over the body of the captured and bloody warrior, Willis holds him by the caller and tries to shake him back to life for further interrogation. The half-orc weeps out a few desperate last breaths before finally going limp. ”...damn it, I guess its finished then.” Rising to his feet, Willis drops the dead half-orc to the floor in frustration.
“Come, these walls will soon collapse. We must take our leave and complete our mission.” Gray swings his great sword over his shoulder and looks around at the burning walls of the crumbling structure, ready to fall in on him at any moment. His armor creaks from expansion as the temperature steadily rises.
Willis shrugs, “Your right… anyway these embers are beginning to singe my beard. Let’s go.” The two of them begin to dash down the hall, avoiding falling ruble and ravenous flames. Their mission was to gather vital information from the enemy while the primary forces were drawn away elsewhere and then sabotage the fortress. They had got what they came for and must now deliver the information to their commander. However, as they neared the 3rd floor a sudden explosion throws them to the ground with tremendous force. Flaming shrapnel is blasted everywhere as the side wall of the structure is obliterated when like a wrecking ball, a gargantuan gold dragon uses its massive bulk as a battering ram to make an entrance.
Willis’s body recoils, unable pick himself up, he struggles against the pain of broken ribs and severe burns just to prop himself upon his elbow. “Light of Aurora!” He groans with one eye sealed shut and the taste of his blood in his mouth.
Grey recovers, feeling no pain, yet still the violent attack takes its toll on his mechanical form. As he uses his sword as a crutch to get back on his feet, he finds that only burnt roots and twisted broken mettle remains where his left arm used to be.
The great gold dragon looms over them, immune to the flames, with the red sunset on his back. Its eyes shine crimson and its forked tongue flickers between rows of pointed teeth. Raising its head like a serpent of doom the dragon speaks in a thundering voice that shakes the wounded and defenseless heroes, “The prophecy has revealed itself and you are in its way. By unanimous decision of the Chamber you are marked for destruction. May the false gods you worship have pity on your souls.” Then before Grey or Willis can even attempt to protest, they are engulfed in the dragons destructive breath of flame killing them instantly…

Time passes after the heroes death.

A woman in skin tight leathers paces nervously back and forth in a dark room while her superior sits calm and calculating before a great mechanized plainer mobile. As the arms of the outer plains swing around the material plain like oversized electrons around a massive nucleus they discuss their plans for the future.
”...even still, I cant understand why we are investing so many resources into them. We could build an army with the time and money we’v spent already.” She leans over the railing and stares into the orbiting plains.
“These individuals are unique. A thousand soldiers cannot replace them. They were instrumental in bringing about the peace we now enjoy after the Last War. The next time they make their mark in history I want them working for me.” He says sitting casually with a rolled cigarette held loosely between his fingers.
Turning to face him she says, “What guarantees do we have that they will co-operate? I still think we should implant some kind of control device.”
“No! I want them brought back exactly as they were. Any attempt to control them could alter their character.”, he pauses to take a long drag, “It is their individuality that makes them unique. Mindless puppets are useless to me.”
She lowers her head and tucks a strand of hair back behind her ear, “Still, I have my doubts about their loyalty. Diplomacy is great when it works, but its difficult when everyone already perceives you as a threat.”
“Precisely. Thats why I need someone with your skills to head up this operation. The importants of this mission is bigger than the Black Hand. The fate of the world is at stake.”
“I wont fail you Shadow Bringer.” She says standing up straight again.
“See to it that you dont” He says, as he smothers the end of his cigarette in an ashtray.


Date in Eberron: Zol. Eyre, 17th, 998YK. 05:24
The experienced of being brought back to life is not unlike waking from a long night of drinking. The first thing one becomes aware of is the grate effort one must make to form even the most sluggish of thoughts. A futile since of urgency is wasted in the fight to rise out of bed quickly. Rapidly the mind becomes aware of the pain the body feels, and ones next thoughts are of minimizing activity because with even the slightest stimulation one is met with extreme discomfort. Unfortunately for Willis and Grey, their awakening was akin to a level of stimulation not far from a bomb going off in their face.
Slowly a voice becomes more and more recognizable, like a faint echo drawing near, or the memory of a dream struggling to become clear. “Wake up, wake up! You must get up!” the voice calls to them. The woman’s voice is heard simultaneously and individually by both Willis and Grey who still lie on their backs as they attempt to regain control of their bodies like an infant learns to crawl.
Willis grits his teeth and clutches his forehead as if to shield his mind from the pain. Grey staggers to his feet, familiar with the sensation of being rebuilt yet he was so damaged that many parts must have been replaced and it takes time to get used to them.
Again the voice sends a telepathic message to the both of them in urgent tones ,“I know your scars haven’t finished healing, but you’ve got to get out of there, this facility is under attack”
Willis looks about the room lit by strange crystals that shine brightly hanging from the ceiling. The two of them lay on stone slabs surrounded by surgical tools and alchemical components. The room shakes and dust falls from cracks in the stone walls as the sounds of a siege shakes the foundations of the building. The architecture must be dwarven in make for it appears very sturdy and some detail has been laid into the pattern of the sculpting. “Where are our things?” Willis asks, noticing first that he lay naked next to his companion who was built of armor and had no fleshy parts to expose.
“You’ll find your gear across the room, on the counter.” The telepathic voice replies over the booming sounds of war that rumble in the air.
Grey grabs his sword and starts moving towards the only door in the room while Willis is still dawning his armor. As he steps into the next room, he can see a stack of crates roped together that must have supplied his reconstruction and the medical necessities to revitalize Willis. The exit was over 60 feet to the far side of the room while on the left was a raised platform providing a walk way to a chain of small battlement windows most likely built to be used by defending archers yet now the room was devoid of protection.
“Get to cover!” the voice calls out “there are soldiers coming for you” Grey steps back into the medical room and waits for his companion to join him. Finally finished dawning his gear, Willis gives a nod to Grey signaling he is ready to engage the opponent despite his painful recovery.
Combat ensues….. to be continued.




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