Prologue - The Fall of Summersong

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Keehnelf
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Prologue - The Fall of Summersong

#1 Post by Keehnelf »

Our story begins with the arrival of the Cult of Sweetblood the Blunt in the dwarven mining town of Summersong. The Cult were a quiet people, tending in ages past to keep to themselves except when they were violently overthrowing the social order in towns, putting the people of the upper class to the sword and transforming the proudest among them through the divine grace of Sweetblood into mules to cart their zealous goods on to the next destination.

Flent Hangshenks was a young dwarf, the son of piano makers and all-around naive soul, when the Cult made its appearance. His parents, effete degenerates who had lived a life of luxury until that time, were more offended than honored when given the opportunity to convert to the faith of Sweetblood the Blunt, and they ended up as ritual sacrifices to demonstrate the Truth of Universal Humility to the rest of the town. Flent himself was strongly impressed by these events and chose to convert, soon becoming a faithful adherent of the way under the direct tutelage of one of the foremost Prelates of Sweetblood's ministry. Flent was raised in the Faith of the Cult and became a cleric himself as he attained adulthood, tending to the spirit of the slaves working the Sorrowstone mines of Summersong.

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Keehnelf
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Re: Prologue - The Fall of Summersong

#2 Post by Keehnelf »

Meanwhile, far away, the young halfling Jordis found himself on the outs with the residents of his sleepy little halfling village. Born under a malign star, other halflings found his personality and presence generally detestable, his character somewhat less than stellar where issues of honesty and integrity were concerned, and his regard for the property and welfare of others middling if not outright deplorable.

After enough years of this abuse had been heaped on the young halfling's shoulders, he decided to do something about it once and for all. In a fit of pique, he stole the Rock of Sorrow, a necklace from which a chunk of Sorrowstone the size of an obese man's heart was suspended, from its place of honor in the town temple. He knew this would make an impression, because this item was the only thing preserving the village from suffering the full effects of the Curse of Infinite Melancholy, laid upon the village generations prior by a wandering bard who suffered one good-natured jibe too many while performing an ill-considered song about halfling pie-making skill.

Now, a note about Sorrowstone.

Sorrowstone is potent stuff, but rare. One of its naturomagical properties is the ability to siphon unhappiness out of its environment and dampen it. Small quantities (say, set into a very expensive ring) can provide its bearer with a general sense of well-being, and thus it is prized around the world. A piece the size of the Rock of Sorrow was, as we know from history, able to provide this benefit to an entire town, and allow them to live some semblance of a normal life.

Of course, since its discovery, individuals have experimented with many ways of using Sorrowstone. Rings or amulets remain among the most common--but in recent years a significant trade in powdered rock for direct consumption has grown up around the world, because the impact is significantly greater when the rock is taken internally, though as one's body metabolizes the Sorrowstone the effect fades, making for a rapid spike in happiness followed by a distinct and precipitous crash back to a normal state.

Though the public purpose of the annexation of Summersong was general conversion and spreading of the good word of Sweetblood the Blunt, the prolific Sorrowstone mine on site there was the true goal. The Cult, which preached of the need for universal suffering and abjection, was led by a cabal of high priests almost constantly high on crushed Sorrowstone.

Back to Jordis.

Jordis was a bit impulsive, and when he was driven out of his town for stealing the Rock of Sorrows and plunging his town into eternal misery once again, he hadn't really planned a next step--so within a week he had lost the Rock in a gambling match (he had no idea of the thing's real worth, anyway) and was out on the curb in a very real way. When he realized how much the Rock was worth, he decided to try and get his hands on some more of it and either gamble that for a real income or just sell it and live the good life again--and along the way, maybe he could find a piece to bring back to his village and lift the curse. Those were the thoughts running through his head when he heard of the mine at Summersong, and despite the presence of the bloodthirsty Cult in that town, he infiltrated with the intent to pilfer as much as he could get his hands on from the mine.

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Keehnelf
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Re: Prologue - The Fall of Summersong

#3 Post by Keehnelf »

Things went south pretty quickly for young Jordis, who found himself caught in a warehouse into which he had broken by a lesser official of the Cult. The official called for support, and Priest Hangshenks arrived on the scene to mete out holy justice.

What he saw, however, was a flash of divine inspiration: Sweetblood spoke to Hangshenks and whispered to him that Jordis, if allowed to live and thrive, would be a great force for suffering in the world, and must be supported to this end. At that moment, Hangshenks decided that he would convert Jordis to the faith of Sweetblood so that his destiny could be fulfilled. With great certitude, he then crushed the skull of the lesser Cult official with his mace and freed Jordis from his bonds, presenting him to the Prelate as a good candidate for membership in the order and taking him under his personal authority and responsibility.

Jordis, eager for any escape from the mess he'd found himself in, was only too glad to take advantage of the opportunity--and the pair were selected soon after to lead another expedition by the Cult, to convert the nearby town of Ramshorn. Thus, they set off with a band of acolytes and mules laden with scourges, nail-beds and bamboo slivers, along the road winding through the Crawling Briar toward the once-bucolic town of Ramshorn, now overrun by unsavory refugees from fallen Summersong.

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