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Qwert · 11-15-2020, 07:23 AM

This is one of the Aurora canon story arks taking place in the non-player nations (NPN's) of Duruma and Jingowan. Players will be able to join in or establish their own separate story arks in one of the other NPN's or their own plots once the map is opened.

Think of this as a teaser!

Kingdom of Duruma, Orawak Reservation, Wan Camp

"Who's in there? Is it you Swen?" The old man sounded tired. He slowly lit his oil lamp and carefully checked out the interior of the tent.

There, in the shadows. Movement.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" There was now insecurity in his voice.

A tall and muscular man slowly stood up. His face expressed displeasure.

"You?" The old man was surprised. "No one except us Elders is allowed in the sacred tent. You know that Hunda!"

Hunda approached the old man confidently, almost aggressively. The old man took a few steps back.

"Let me just finish what I came here for. It's best for all of us if you just step outside and pretend you didn't see me here." answered Hunda.

"I can't let you stay. I will call for the guardians, they will..."

Hunda didn't let the man finish. He grabbed the man's neck with both his enormous hands. As the elderly man started to suffocate, Hunda looked him in the eyes and spoke slowly.

"I know that you guard a secret here. I met a merchant in Evofa, he told me about a special power our people used to possess. Now I'm going to find out what you have been hiding from us all this time."

The despair in the old man's eyes faded into emptiness. When Hunda let go of his neck, he collapsed in an unnatural way on the ground.

Hunda proceeded to grabbing all books he could carry, and sneaked out of the tent the same way he came. Now he needed to find someone who could read.

***

Orawak Reservation, Smith's Tavern

The tavern was buzzing with activity. Hunda and Kverion were not the only ones to seek shelter from the storm there. The two of them had made sure to get a table near the cracking fire place to dry up and to better see what was in the book they had brought. They leaned closer to each other to hear better when a jolly company on the other side of the room started singing.

"I read them" began Kverion, "and it was not an enjoyable experience. I think you owe me a couple of beers more."

"Of course!" Hunda smiled. "Now, what have you found?"

Kverion nodded as he opened the book.

"Well. Either your elders were very good at hiding this great Orawak secret of yours, or it is simply so that your people don't have any hidden powers."

Hunda's smile disappeared.

"But!" Kverion added quickly. "The Wise of the Uls-Trovi, whoever they might be, are mentioned several times. From what I can discern, they were present when King Kula was advised to have your people chased off from their lands in the west."

Hunda looked disappointed.

"I know, I know. It's not what you hoped for. But if your elders won't help you, and you certainly can't just go and ask people in the Royal Castle, the only lead you have right now is the Uls-Trovi."

"Where are they?"

Kverion cleared his throat.

"Oh, not too far. In the north of Jingowan."

"Jingowan!?" shouted Hunda. The buzzing stopped and heads turned towards their table. Hunda looked around.

"What? Mind your own business" he said with sharpness in his voice.

Buzzing slowly resumed and the two men leaned forward again.

"Here" Kverion began, "lies the Oracle of the Uls-Trovi", pointing on a spot on an old map in the book. "You'll be facing maybe two months of walking, maybe shorter if they allow you to ride in Jingowan."

Kverion looked at Hunda with mischief in his eyes.

"Because the Orawak are still not allowed to own horses, am I right."

Hunda ignored the remark.

"We are facing two months of walking. You are coming with me."

"I am?"

So began Hunda's trek. A quest to learn what really happened a hundred years ago when the Orawak were chased off from their homelands. If that trader told the truth, that the Orawak once had special powers. And if so, if Hunda could learn to master these powers. He must travel through lands were the Orawak are distrusted and where magic is seen as evil. He will have to find new companions to help, all with their own ambitions and stories.

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(This post was last modified: 11-15-2020, 07:58 AM by Qwert.)

Qwert · 12-09-2020, 04:05 PM

Orawak Reservation, not too far from Smith's Tavern

Mirmel rubbed her hands trying to warm them. Winter was coming now, no doubt abut that. She looked around, but there was still no sign of the man. If he could only hurry for once. She was sure he did it on purpose to show how was the boss. Pathetic, really. And if he was so important, why did he always insist on meeting outside the town, and not in her tavern? Everyone knew the man was one of the Sheriff's thugs anyway.

The sheriff was a strange man. With one hand he imposed so high taxes on alcohol that she barely could afford selling any, and with the other he gave her money to report to him about Orawak guests and their activities, via this tardy man. Or so it must have been. And why was that interesting information anyway?

"Mirmel."

She jumped, startled by the man's sudden appearance behind her. She turned around.

"Mr. Clover" she answered nonchalantly.

"You know the usual routine. One Nar per named Orawak guest, five Wors for their destination. 10 Nars for illegal activities, a hundred if you saw them ride. And no false information, or else..."

Mr. Colver tried to look intimidating, but he just looked as wimpy as usual.

"Or else, you'll cut off my right hand, or cut my tongue out, yeah, yeah."

Mr. Clover just kept looking foolishly at Mirmel.

"All right. Yesterday evening one Orawak accompanied by some man named Kverion, ordered beers and discussed some old book" said Mirmel while she started counting with her fingers the increasing amount of money Mr. Clover owed her. "I couldn't hear much what they said, but appraently they are going to Jingowan."

"Jingowan?!" The man couldn't hide his surprise.

"Yes. They are taking the Bird Stone road, via Teefa's Crossing" continued Mirmel.

"Anything else?" Mr. Clover looked excited.

"Yes, you owe me one Nar and 10 Wors" answered Mirmel, raising her hand, ready to receive the payment.

"Ten? That was only one destination!" the man whined.

"Teefa's Crossing. That's five. Jingowan. That's ten." Mirmel narrowed her eyes. "Or should I go directly to the Sheriff?"

There was a sign brief of terror in Mr. Clover's eyes. He fumbled with the money, giving Mirmel what she claimed, then he left in a hurry.

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