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 Post subject: Past and Present: A History and Journal of Ktok Throoks
PostPosted: Fri Apr 22, 2005 5:51 pm 
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“You’re not serious…”

“But its soooo pretty!”

“Pretty!? Do you have any idea what that is?”

“It’s a big slice of swordly goodness for starters.”

“That, my dear fool, is what lead to the fall of this place! And now you just want to reach up there and… Karana’s BEARD what are you doing?!”

“Look! I can touch it now… it doesn’t repel me anymore!”

“Grand. Seriously, don’t mess with that thing. Do you think all the names on the walls here smeared in blood are just for show? You don’t want to meet the owners of those names, trust me. You really should listen to me more. I have been around a very long time, and I know about these things. I was there when it was recovered from Befallen, and I can say with complete certainty that…”

“Wow, its not as heavy as it looks…”

“…<sigh>… what’s the point of being a talking sword when no one listens?”

“Hey, Beric?”

“What?”

“…I suddenly really want to kill a gnoll…”

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PostPosted: Fri Apr 22, 2005 5:52 pm 
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(Excerpt from the journal of Ktok Throoks)

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The visions have lead me to act out parts of the life of the first wielder of the Bone Bladed Claymore. They have been most… informative.

The original owner, Gynok was the first Hallasian to encounter the gnolls of Blackburrow. The gnoll’s ambassador, a young female named Opalla, met them warmly and extended her paw in an offering of peace. This beast, Gynok, lashed out with the Bone Bladed Claymore and sliced her paw from her arm and then slew her and many other gnolls. The paw was taken back to Hallas, and used as a magical charm for many generations. The gnolls of Blackburrow cursed his family that day, and distrusted and hated outsiders from then on.

Gynok and the Bone Bladed Claymore eventually found their way to the fortress that became known as Befallen. It is unclear what exactly took place there, but at some point Gynok came to battle with a troll Shadow Knight by the name of Redak. The fight was long, and brutal, but Redak eventually won, impaling Gynok with his sword and taking the Bone Bladed Claymore for his own.

Gynok, due to the curse perhaps more than anything, arose from the dead as zombie and continued to haunt Befallen. The curse, which was centered around the Claymore as much as Gynok himself, spread to all of Befallen and it became a bastion for the undead. Redak, somehow, continued to live there, and was protected from aging by the sword he now held.

The Knights of Thunder eventually came to Befallen on a holy mission to cleans it of undead in the name of Karana. During the battle, they found Redak, slew him, and took the Bone Bladed Claymore as a trophy, not knowing its significance, and not knowing that in doing so they brought with them the vengeful spirits of both Redak and Gynok. They placed the Claymore on display, and the curse slowly seeped into the stones of Stormhold. The knights became paranoid, aggressive, and eventually began to fall upon one another. Madness swept through the keep, and those struck down in the fighting became undead which hastened the slaughter. Eventually, none lived within Stormhold, and the names Redak and Gynok to this day remain painted in blood on the walls of Stormhold.

The blade commanded that I seek out the ghost of Opalla so that it could feast on her spirit once more. I was not pleased with this idea, for the loss of a gnoll capable of wanting peace with other races was a tragedy I did not want to see happen twice. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the Opalla that rose up before me was not the gentle soul she must have once been. I slew her… again… and the Claymore consumed what was left of her essence.

It then demanded revenge against Redak. The vision showed me Gynok’s death at Redak’s hands from Gynok’s own view. The sword, or was it perhaps Gynok, wanted to taste Redak’s soul.

Some Portents and I found Redak in the chapel of Stormhold. He materialized before us, and frightened a group of younger adventurers into panicked flight. He put up a struggle, but we felled him, and the sword was once more pleased with its meal.

Now, however, the vision shows me how the sword was originally made. It was forged by an earth elemental in the Underfoot. The blade was wrought from the spine of a small dragon, torn from its back when it was still alive, its blood later serving to cool and temper the blade. The sword wishes to be whole once more, as it is currently in disrepair. To do this, it has shown me a forge that is near enough to the Underfoot, and a cluster of Ebon that I must use in its remaking.

It appears I will be mining for a while…

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PostPosted: Mon Apr 25, 2005 5:26 pm 
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“This is really very dull,” the sword said. “And this place is terribly uninteresting. I hardly sense any undead here at all. Just a bunch of lizards and a few ghosts of Ogres. Plus it so humid! If I rust, I’ll never forgive you.”

The sound of the mining pick striking stone continued unabated.

“Are you even listening to me?”

<ping> <ping> <ping>

“Hey! I’m talking to you!”

<ping> “Dear spirits do you ever shut up, Beric?” <ping>

“Hmph… Well I’m sorry, but after being cooped up with no one but undead for company for so long, I have a lot to say.”

<ping> <ping> The sound of metal on stone stopped for a moment as Ktok bent down to retrieve a piece of the rock for study. He looked at it carefully, then sighed in frustration. “Well its black, and its ore, but its not ebon.”

“Take a break… before you tunnel your way clear to Telosia.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Ktok said, leaving the mining pick leaning against the stone and taking a seat against a nearby tree. “I could do with some lunch anyway.”

“So,” Beric began after a moment, “if you are tired of hearing about me, how about you tell me about your past? It couldn’t possibly take that long for one so young.”

Ktok chuckled, “I am older than I appear, Beric. I was born long before the attack on Luclin and the abandonment of the gods. I’ve seen many things… some great, some horrible.”

“Interesting… well, I have all the time in the world and time apparently is not an obstacle to yourself. Indulge me…”

“Very well,” Ktok said, followed by a long drink of fayberry milk. “Where shall I begin?”

“Heh… at the beginning of course…” Beric chuckled.

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PostPosted: Thu Mar 30, 2006 7:11 pm 
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“Well,” Ktok began, “I suppose then that I should start with a little history of my family. You see, the Th’Rooks family was highly regarding in times long ago for their healing ability. My ancestors were among the shaman who helped our people survive the traumatic displacement to Luclin, and my family had provided loyal service to the Kerrath family ever since. Being a shaman was expected of us, and so, when I became of age I was sent to the shaman guild for training.”

“Judging from your current state, I would assume that did not work out so well,” Beric said.

“Oh, it worked out well enough in the beginning. The problems started a few weeks into my training. Once I had tapped into the flow of mana, I began experiencing random bursts of destructive magic when I was trying to summon healing energies. I was able to control it at first, and I kept it well hidden from my instructors. But, well…” Ktok trailed off.

“Well?” Beric asked inquisitively.

“Keeping the destructive magic in check took a great deal of focus. There are few things in this world that disrupt one’s ability to focus like matters of the heart,” Ktok grinned.

“Ah, yes,” Beric said in such a way that Ktok could imagine him nodding, were he not a sword. “The Lady Tmitka I presume?”

“Exactly,” Ktok continued. “It was not long before my first major exam that I met her. I did not have my mind on what I was doing, and to say I failed the exam would be a gross understatement.”

“What happened?”

“Well, there was a small rock hopper, a reptilian creature that lived just outside the city of Shar Vahl, that I was supposed to heal as part of the test. I did not so much heal it, as incinerate it, set the table, rug, and tapestries on fire, and singe most of the fur off my teacher’s face. Pillar of Fire wasn’t exactly in the shaman handbook, and though it was entirely an accident, I was expelled from the shaman guild.

“So, being neither adept in singing nor sneaking, and not trusting myself to not accidentally incinerate my own warder, I was left with the option of the warrior guild. I felt it was a safe bet, as they did not use magic at all in any form. I signed up and began my training, shortly after which Tmitka and I became mates. She had chosen the beastlords as her guild, and together we began our duty to Shar Vahl. It was quite a while before we realized how much more there was to see than Shadeweaver’s Thicket. We had not even heard any other language besides Vah Shir and Combine until we met an older Vah by the name of Tollus..."

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