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''Prologue:''
''Prologue:''<br>


In the dark depths of Ferrellian nights
In the dark depths of Ferrellian nights<br>
through campfire’s flickering yellowish lights
through campfire’s flickering yellowish lights<br>
Stories are told of the Rift Cave beyond
Stories are told of the Rift Cave beyond<br>
and the malingering evil it spawned.
and the malingering evil it spawned.<br>
Crouched on log benches, the tales commence
Crouched on log benches, the tales commence<br>
in whispering voices and glances intense.  
in whispering voices and glances intense. <br>
In the Southlands a half-hidden cave lies therein  
In the Southlands a half-hidden cave lies therein <br>
near the woods of T’Nanshi it borders within
near the woods of T’Nanshi it borders within<br>
It is here that the story does truly begin.
It is here that the story does truly begin.<br>




<br>


 
''Canto I: The History of The Rifts''<br>
''Canto I: The History of The Rifts''





Revision as of 23:37, 19 September 2006

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Contents:

Prologue
Canto I: The History of the Rifts
Intermezzo I : Introduction of the Four
Canto II: The First Seal
Intermezzo II: Yal’Drea
Canto III: The Return of Se’Fassu
Intermezzo III: The Gathering Of Forces
Canto IV: The Final Closure
Epilogue


SHADOWS FALL OVER FERRELL

Prologue:

In the dark depths of Ferrellian nights
through campfire’s flickering yellowish lights
Stories are told of the Rift Cave beyond
and the malingering evil it spawned.
Crouched on log benches, the tales commence
in whispering voices and glances intense.
In the Southlands a half-hidden cave lies therein
near the woods of T’Nanshi it borders within
It is here that the story does truly begin.



Canto I: The History of The Rifts


Millennia before the Ferrell we know The land of the hin that fair Berryn bestow’d Dwarven miners worked in its green rolling hills As Berryn’s father Gorethar wills. They erected a temple to Gorethar there And built a great obelisk and an altar for prayer. The miners made the temple their base And the wonderous land, now Ferrell, they embraced And their god and their temple they’d never debase

Til one day they breached a natural cave And out of it poured the stench of the grave. The temple and grounds soon were rife with undead And the temple became a battlefield instead. A few short years after, the miners dispersed The entire length of the caverns traversed by hordes of undead from an unholy site Their presence akin to the worst of the Spite. Within twenty years they would no longer fight.

The dwarves left then, certain naught could be cured How much time passed, we shall never be sure The temple was desecrated all and throughout Few dared venture within or ever came out Abandoned, it sat like a fruit to be plucked ‘til the fissure cracked in its bowels opened up. Caused by Se’Fassu, a master vampire The Shadow Rift fueled his power and desire Centuries passed as he ruled and conspired.

The land turned a leaf, went from Gorethar to Berryn The Hin settled in and the country was repairing The cave seemed forgotten, its denizens silent But ‘twas only a calm ‘fore the undead grew violent The creatures were leaking out, citizens raided causing much havoc wherever they invaded. The people of Ferrell grew tired of attack And called for a way to protect and push back. A ward was placed, and a door, and a plaque.

As to how this ward was built and conceived ‘twas a secret group’s effort if history’s believed This union of souls, this Brotherhood of wills swore to guard the Rift Temple from all sorts of ills. Formed all up of those serving Gorethar true And others, White Mages, who hoped they’d renew The temple inside from the depths of despair. To this purpose they ventured inside, and prepared, and warded the obelisk, its goodness repaired.

The obelisk drew from the opposite plane Than the one the undead had used to sustain. Forthwith, the Brotherhood turned their intent To another sure way to control and augment and guarantee those trapped inside would stay caught. From the coldest of iron, a strong door was wrought Interweaved all about with magicks galore the Temple was sealed, and placed by the door was a placard, its words-- Do Not Enter! – implored.

The Brotherhood withdrew, its task at an end and the green Ferrell lands began slowly to mend and its peoples at last all felt safe in their beds. The door there assured that no evil would spread. From afar the Brotherhood continued to guard and shouldered that task for generations, barred every attempt by undead to escape from their cage. They guarded the door and its seal, they gauged And noted with pleasure evil’s impotent rage.

A thousand years passed, give or take but a few Complacency crept like a bandit into the Brotherhood, who aged and passed on their trust down from one to another, each tried to adjust. But little seemed dangerous out past the door Since the wards, no attacks, twas all like before. But all was not as those above had perceived. Whilst sealed below, evil plots were conceived. What Se’Fassu was scheming, Se’Fassu achieved.

The grand warding pillar, good Gorethar’s pride whose usage had been to keep evil defied finally succumbed to Se’Fassu’s endeavors. With help of the Rift, its goodness he severed. He perverted its nature and destroyed its wards and slowly to evil, he drew it toward. But no one knew anything up above Ferrell That none of them realized, came at their peril. Of dark days to follow, this was but a herald.

Though a plaque had been placed to stay clear of the Rift some read and remembered, but others were miffed. Enough time had passed, lessons were not recalled had been quiet so long that the Rift Caves enthralled countless young men with a lust for adventure who entered the caves, they all dared to venture to work their way past the wards placed there forever or to bust down the door, if they weren’t all that clever. Their hopes were for battle or plunder, whichever.

The wards on the door were ignored or destroyed though told time and again, ‘twas a place to avoid as was their sworn task the Brotherhood watched and took note of the warnings that many had botched Those who’d wanted battle soon got their desire as a very great many got caught in crossfire Unwittingly, bumbling adventurers had aided Se’Fassu, by opening what had been blockaded so he and all of his minions invaded.

The Gorethites too, had watched for some years and had noted the obelisk with a growing fear It glowed red with evil, ‘twas covered in runes they needed a moment or more, opportune So Tyrius Rune and his Gorethite kin formed a plan to enter the Rifts and begin to ward the great obelisk in the bowels of the cave. To force all the wandering undead to behave and to send what they could of them back to the grave.


Intermezzo I: Introduction of the Four

It is at this juncture we take a small pause and dwell now upon those who furthered the cause and what came to pass for them to arrive at the point where they figured out how to derive the spells and rites needed to seal the breach. Of the obelisk, warding it seemed within reach. Four stalwart men were charged with the deed to restore the old shrine, force the dead to recede break the foul bond, and with faith intercede.

Tyrius Rune was the first of the four A Gorethite battle mage on a quest for a shielding aura, if he could combine The strengths of all magics arcane and divine. Learned from his master, this secret revealed gave Tyrius hope, his resolve, it was steeled. He was tasked with locating the best of the best three others to give of the skills they possessed to sacrifice everything if e’re they be pressed.

Celedor Dedwend, a cleric of power lent his natural strength to the need of the hour Next came Quintillion, researcher of rites He stood for the common man and farmer’s plights Gianan Nefzen was the last to be called to vanquish undead was what held him enthralled. Then Tyrius joined with the three, all were blessed he accompanied them with intent to assess how to seal the Rift and to solve this great quest.


Canto II: The First Seal

The first seal! -- we come to the place in our story Where Gorethar’s men called for purpose and glory To Tyrius Rune, they put this endeavor devise a solution! Seal the Rift Caves forever! So Tyrius retreated back into research and holed himself up near to Noristie’s perch he studied for months and months more with his teacher who knew all about how to make Sealing features for in Deglos he’d held and contained the Pit creature.

Now Noristie owned a great magical forge which Tyrius wanted to use to engorge his runestones with both sorts of magical power Arcane and divine, with soul’s strength empower. He needed to gather the proper components and knew in so doing he’d face sundry opponents. The months he did spend at the study were essential The way he envisioned the stones had potential. His faith in his mission became reverential.

Rune came to believe that the power he needed would be found through faith, and so he proceeded A power source, positive energy and prayers To strengthen the runes, not get caught unawares. So he drew on divine magic, evil to smite And he drew on arcane to shape, and ignite. That magic gave purpose to that of divine With connection between them, he knew they’d combine. ‘Twas time now, he knew, to visit the shrine.

The Order of Gorethar organized a mission to inspect the obelisks and gauge their condition they travelled down deep, found the obelisks glowing the once holy seal was with evil a-growing the altars were feeding the obelisks, fuel meant to rip the rift open with wicked renewal The Order now knew they would have to dispatch the altars and obelisk’s power to catch and bind to this plane, so samples they snatched.

Convinced of their skill, no more stones left unturned armed with the knowledge that they all had earned Rune met again with Gianan, formed a plan He drew to him Celedor, the trio was manned When last came Quintillion they became a quartet. With Jarius and Jwol beside them, the mission was set. The sextet then travelled to Deglos once more they were told to obtain blood of the Pit Lord fought, but were lost til Gorethar sent a savior.

Ingredients gathered, they bent to the job of creating four stones that would yoke the macabre Each of them poured in their very life essence it could not be taken without acquiescence. The sound of the magical forge rang out clearer The runestones were forged, their goal edged much nearer with the aid of Noristie, the mage’s mentor the stones were then named for each one of the four. and as all were quite weary, left for home to restore.

A week later they gathered at the time they’d selected the four men stood silent, and paused, and reflected. They knew that the stones they had made should be true and harbor only the power to focus onto the obelisk, the altars, Se’Fassu’s own shield, and wrap ‘round his shadows and force them to yield without spreading through Ferrell, the power constrained. They needed some way for the stones to be trained ‘Twas the way to ensure a successful campaign.

They used what they’d taken and honed the stone’s power after many month’s efforts their stones were empower’d Clandestine, the comp’ny arrived at the shrine that housed many dwellers both dark and malign The Order of Gorethar, sisters and brothers with Tyrius Rune and a number of others. They aimed every effort to ending the scourge. Their hope -- the undead would never emerge Their goal – that the evil prevailing be purged.

They carried the runestones down into the Rift they travelled the causeways, and felt the air shift as though all the denizens knew they drew near they bore their great burden, they would persevere. Tyrius, Celedor, Gianan, Quintillion took stones and stepped to the obelisk’s pavillion ‘twas a throng of undead, there could be no disruption. Steel and spell ‘gainst unholy corruption The company’s task, to forestall interruption.

As the quartet prepared to perform the great Sealing they held forth the runestones, incanting and kneeling When swarms of undead imperiled the mission so Sir Grano sprung right down into the fissure Imagine the shock and the horror they felt down in the depths where the worst creatures dwelt As Grano fought darkness, implored all to leave him! the Rite must go on! – there was no time to grieve him! Every soul there swore they’d go back to retrieve him.

The seal it was done, the cave started shaking those who’d come down barely escaped the quaking. Sir Grano’s brave action did not go unheeded ‘twas not long ‘fore Gorethar’s men had proceeded to plan an excursion into the deep cave this party’s ambition, Sir Grano they’d save. They stepped ‘cross the Rift to the Shadowy Plane Fought fiends in the scores ‘fore Sir Grano, bloodstained, was found to be living, his senses regained.

They left the Rift complex, a satisfied crew the job it was done as they’d set out to do. The runestones were set, all violently glowing with vibrant pulsations, their goodness bestowing what power they held to maintaining a seal upon the Rift proper and end the ordeal. Assuredly while they’d desired to close the shadowy Rift, they’d its evil enclosed, though not quite complete it would do, they supposed.


Intermezzo II: Yal’Drea

How long did this Seal last? -- years upon more it was understood then that no one would explore down deep in the Rifts where the undead were sealed yet after some time that intent lost appeal and time, as it’s wont to do, clouded the past memories faded, expectations surpassed. The Gorethites tried their best to deter the daring adventurers, entrepreneurs that braved the Rift complex, ‘lest something should stir.

Once more incursions were frequent, none set any store in the plaque or the door, and no threat could be levyed upon those with nothing to fear ‘twas a matter of time til the dead reappeared. The fateful meet happened one day ‘tween some mages who came face to face with the brutal rampages of a powerful vampiress by the name of Yal’Drea. She left them near dead, she had words to convey Swore that woe would befall if they dared disobey.

The message was simple, its meaning unclouded no more would pass through, the undead kept enshrouded beneath their temple rift, ne’er to be provoked or retribution would follow, the peace there revoked. Her master would rule all of Ferrell, she sneered if the message she carried should fall on deaf ears. When her threat became known it seemed steps were then taken to shut the Rifts up and claim they’d been mistaken. For a time, things were calm, and no dead were awakened.


Canto III: The Return of Se’Fassu

Years passed, plague was stirring across all the land. To stem it, Camb Roe’Que appointed a band of adventurers, known to the locals as FEAT to explore the Rift Caverns in hopes to complete further research in energies to locate a cure though such hopes turned out to be a bit premature. The caverns weren’t placid, FEAT was overcome by a foul beast called Xanthion who refused to succumb. FEAT retreated and met with a celestial from above.

Ariullus by name, the being offered a dare and a great set of armor, one FEATer to wear in return the brave soul would meet Xanthion square to the death, face to face, in close bloody warfare. Caliph donned the armor and stepped to the fore A vicious-fought battle, Xanthion dead in the gore. With the celestial’s help FEAT put down their foes but they heard these foul words with the last of the blows ”Thanks be from Se’Fassu, for of Xanthion you disposed.”

This warning caused FEAT’s blood to freeze in their veins but months passed, fields blossomed, winds waving vervain Twas quiet ‘til one day some souls pierced the cave in search of components, a substance quite craved. ‘Twas one time too many, as they soon discovered they ran toward the Port when they finally recovered. Men like Igor, and Owen, and Garek, and Mitrik took their steel to the Southlands, waded into the thick of the battle, determined they’d end the rout quick.

The odor of burning flesh streamed ‘cross the grass flaming armies of skeletons marched on en masse Rhiss and all that were present faced squarely the threat swords whirled and bows twanged in a death-minuet. The Rift ghouls and skeletons, flaming undead fell to blow after blow but still swarmed overhead The Battle of the Southlands raged onward for days through fatigue, warriors fought with the woods all ablaze ‘til the last crushing blows seemed to stop the malaise.

All Ferrell fell quiet, but ‘twas not to last a mere fortnight after, an army was massed along the division where Roseberry Wood met the entrance to Meygle, and there FEAT withstood another attack by the vamps and their general an as-yet-unknown leader, launching out several groups of winged halflings we soon learned were Blighters demonic undead that were consummate fighters. Hours-long battle ended, coming day blocked the nighters.

It was quickly decided to strengthen the runes a trip to the temple planned that afternoon to stop the attacks on Ferrellian soil to smite the undead, help their bonds to uncoil. FEAT was joined by Lafreth, the Ivory Archmage. Two days passed below in ceaseless engage. They reached the grim obelisk, prayers underwent Toran granted Caliph power to circumvent For the moment the rift fell to silence, content.

In the interim FEAT joined with Gorethar’s men Se’Fassu’s dark reign both determined to end when a note came to FEAT, sent from Landolin, mage of a rite that would seal the Rift shut and wage holy war on the vampires and ghouls in his care. When the next wave of death came out of midair some demonic Blighters attacked the Port, sped on leathery wings, small bodies contorted Attacked lightning fast, were not easily thwarted.

When the next attack came ‘twas no time to prepare the vamps snatched a halfling girl in Owen’s care from out of the Port Hole, Arania’s room Laurelin was her name, and her plight would consume all the members of FEAT, and they gathered that day sped to the Rifts to rescue her straightaway. Found a note banning FEAT from the Rifts, interceded Should the choice to ignore its demands go unheeded Laurelin would be turned, all of Ferrell depleted.

The note had been left by a being named Lar’Keston Se’Fassu’s aide and his general, in whom he vested but FEAT, with due diligence, furtively planned to don five suits of magic and a rescue began. The rescue was thwarted, the clothes they were cursed on the surface the vampires massed, interspersed but the members of FEAT held them fast and fought hard with the whirling halberds of Rhiss as point guard Joren and Del, Igor, Thror, were the Ferrelian vanguard.

Poor Laurelin, still in Se’Fassu’s grim clutches they knew Se’Fassu tainted what e’er he touch’es Her uncertain safety Owen could no longer withstand with Arania he entered the Rift caves unplanned. The pair moved through labyrinths of caves in the dark to a temple, its walls glowing red, and a mark ‘cross the floor --‘twas a pentagram graded in stone in this foreboding room was Se’Fassu enthroned? Owen gripped his sword fast as he clenched his jawbone.

Shadows flowed fast away and a vampire appeared Laurelin tucked in his arms, she cried out as he sneered. As ordained Raney snatched the young girl, and departed whilst Owen, unshaken, faced the vamp down and started to ask ‘twas Se’Fassu? – nay, was Lar’Keston, in place of. The pair glared, their challenges etched on their faces, ‘til Owen turned to join Raney, his words left unsaid. But once out in the sun, the girl shied from its spread Owen raged, and avowed he would have the vamp’s head.


In due course the girl told all of FEAT a grim story from the Shadow Lands Se’Fassu was massing an army a force that he christened the Shadow Vanguard formed of Ferrell’s own corpses with dark disregard but Se’Fassu was trapped, the Rift bound him below he desired to rise! -- and his shackles forgo. To this end he raised mummies that cast a foul spell that blocked out the sun, might without parallel though Rhiss and Owen did fight, this they could not dispel.


Intermezzo III: The Gathering Of Forces

So Se’Fassu was risen, his spell woven true language brimming with power, his mission renewed he’d managed to cut himself free of the Rift quit himself from his bounds, and his vengeance was swift. Sent a prominent force against those at the Port Lar’Keston its leader, all there swore they would thwart all the mummies, the Blighters, the dracoliches too Raged ‘til deep in the night, held the Port, and came through. FEAT and other brave souls bid that force their adieu.

‘Twas not long before work on the Rite showed some motion sprung from those who’d shown Ferrell their truest devotion ‘twixt attacks from the Vanguard, more of good Ferrell lost brought all closer to closing the Rift – but what cost! Some were tasked to go gather the needed components some fresh from the ground, some from motley opponents. With supplies the 4A met, in light ‘twere concealed to forge enough Helms for the Rite-worker’s shield. The rules of the Rite were now finally revealed.

Four teams made of four were the heart of the Rite each team had their own part of the fire to ignite Four Tessarchs of each order of mages, one each An Ebony, an Ivory, a Blue and a Green. A Trilan to secure the group with goodly devotion Another to bind to earth, yet another to focus. Trust was given to Owen of FEAT to convene a Ferrell Defense Force that came to eighteen. He called Gorethites and FEATers, the crème de la crème.


Canto IV: The Final Closure

With the Rite now complete, the Force drawn, time at hand many brave men of Ferrell developed a plan a first force would go, clear Vanguard from the Rifts for the Rite, and those working it, it would lessen the risk. To these men and these women the task was extreme their prowess was great, and their sacrifice surpreme They went in and came out and their task they completed the forces of Vanguards severely depleted. And Se’Fassu? -- It was time for the Rite to unseat him.