Thursday, March 28, 2013

1.1 No One for The NoName

Unlike the thousands that came before it, scrawled and drawn, argued and menaced about in taverns throughout the southern region of the Prytanian contient; this dungeon simply had no name. Never graced with a title, “The Temple of Disgrace”, “The Tomb of Guidar-Ro”, or “The Ruins of the Beholden Undead”, the sunken rooms under the Brioran Forest existed unmapped and unnamed. 

For that reason it had disturbed adventurers for centuries. For a dungeon with no name, no title, no one knew how to prepare for such an endeavor. Is there undead? Are there traps? Who, or worse, what was buried therein? Did the sight have guards? The fact that no one had come back to Rivermoon or the Oaken District bragging about conquering the no name dungeon did not help its reputation. 

In the Baronny of Rivermoon, constantly under the watchful eye of the Notars, the Milkmoon Tavern enjoyed the reputation of catering to adventurers. While once its walls gleamed a pristine white in those first years of construction, when the city was an infant, now over the centuries those walls were scrawled with thousands of maps, plans, inventories, lists, and protocols for the countless sights that existed underground, at times called the underrealms. But among those glyphs, those plans, those scratched out hpes, not one showed a glimmer of a map or a comment on that sight- called simply, in common N’tari, The NoName.

In one clear spot at The Milkmoon, a sphere of emptiness repelled all other drawings on the walls. Clearly spelled by an unknown, was NONAME, the space reserved for one day someone filling in a map of the place. It was the goal of every honest (and otherwise) adventurer to map the NoName. Like the vaults of a mad-king, no one knew if that empty space on the Tavern’s walls helped the promise a kingdom’s ransom, guarded by an impossible foe; or simply the dust and debt-notes of a insane ruler. That unknown kept the space of the NoName intact, without anyone or anything approaching it. Its presence on the walls pushed all other drawings tightly away. Some drunkards, spending far too much time drinking more than extracting treasures, swore the space of the NoName expanded every time. But who could no for sure?

The posts that held up the Milkmoon Tavern, there at the highest point of the Baronny of Rivermoon (and thus the ale spilled on its floors eventually ran through the entire city), served as a scheduling or planning posts for parties, adventurers, and campaigns. But nothing mentioned the NoName, and no space was given on the posts, for who would want to plan for something that had no name? 

The space for the NoName became so obvious, so disturbing, that eventually a table and four chairs appeared under it. The patrons knew all to well that whomever sat there chose, even swore, to explore the NoName. Years passed without even a drop of mead touching that table and those chairs. Pristine as the day they were built by Horus Constantu, the master carpenter; they stood, empty and happily alone. 

The silence that enveloped the MilkMoon, growing like an orb of power, came from the lone figure sitting enjoying a tankard at that table. Worse was, it looked like he was waiting for others to join. 

On to Episode 1.2: Evil Emerges First