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Role Playing NewsVolume 4, Number 1 - March 1, 1998Stories
Volume 4, Number 1 March 1, 1998
Kollos NotesThis ship master's cabin was at the stern of the vessel, as most are. This cabin was rather spartan, set up more for function than style, also as most are. There was a desk in the room, facing the door. Only one chair was in evidence, a leather one behind the desk; any visitors had to stand. There was also the requisite lanterns, a few charts, and a some other necessary pieces of the maritime world. Still, there were signs of the owner's personality; small trinkets that stood out from the nautical fare, marking this ship's master as different. A dragonstones board with its two bowls of stones, a painting of a landscape unlike any in the world, a large music box on one side of the desk, and a dark crystal orb set in a wooden receptacle on the other. Also, there was a second door, outlined with strange carved symbols, leading into a chamber no one alive has ever seen, save its owner.
The rain awoke her with a start, and she looked around frantically. A wide avenue stretched out before and behind her, lit only by meager street lanterns, with dark buildings and darker alleys on either side. She heard furtive scurrying from those alleys, and the beat of mighty wings above. She suddenly knew that she was pursued, but by whom or what she had no idea. She got to her feet quickly and ran to the door of the nearest building, hoping to find solace inside. She grabbed the knocker, but pulled her hand away quickly with a screech of pain. Her hand was bloody, and looking at the knocker, she saw it was the head of a creature more awful than she'd ever seen, and rather than being a metal sculpture, it was alive, gnashing its teeth, while peering at her with an evil, piercing gaze. She recoiled in horror, and turning down the avenue, fled. As the light from the node dimmed, Kollos got up from his chair and turned to stare out at the sea. The ship's bell tolled, marking the onset of evening He stood for a few minutes, collecting his thoughts. The cry of gulls told him that his ship wasn't far form land, which was as he expected; they should be docking in a few days. Gazing out through his cabin window, he saw a small flock of them circling above an area of the sea, watching as they dove and surfaced, more often than not with some manner of prey-fish in their beaks. As the sun slowly sank below the horizon, the clouds reflected a shimmering red, silhouetting the hunting birds. In the dimming light, Kollos noted the luminous wake his ship left, and how the birds were now forced to limit their hunting to it, though they did indeed seem to catch plentiful food. Kollos sighed wistfully. He turned back to his desk, removed a large, leather-bound book from a side drawer, and placed it in front of him. "To continue," he said as he settled into his chair again. The book opened up to a page half-filled with writing. "I've been in contact with Ryork, and have learned disturbing news about this 'Master' out to the west." As Kollos spoke, his words appeared in the book in a fine, silver script. He leaned back in his chair. "It seems that he is not some petty warlord as we have believed, but rather someone who wishes to do war with life itself. At least, if the report is to be trusted." He turned his chair a bit and looked out at the sky. "This changes things. We might actually have to choose sides. Hmmm... this 'Master' could simply be a psychotic wizard, though I think not. I expect him (or her?) to be some sort of tool of one of the Powers. Some priest, given a mission by his god? Some true warlord who a Power saw fit to use? Perhaps an insane mage after all, easily taken for use by an Immortal or other Power." Kollos hesitated for a moment, then rose and opened the outer door. A boy leapt up from his seat on a coil of rope, dropping a whale tooth and small dagger. "My lord?" "Some tea. Bring it too me at once." Kollos started to turn away, but paused and looked back at the boy. "Also, see that I'm not disturbed tonight." "Yes, my lord!" The young steward dashed off as Kollos went back into his chamber.
It seemed as though she had been running forever down this hateful avenue. She couldn't stop, though, for when she did, she heard a host of running footsteps behind her, and worse even than that, the shriek of some winged hunting creature from above. Without halting, she took a quick look over her shoulder. She thought she saw several strange, loping figures, as well as a large, shapeless, rolling mass coming toward her, but as she turned back to run all the faster, she tripped and fell headlong into the mud. Mud! But... where was the road?!? She looked desperately around, and saw only old, dead, trees everywhere. There was no sign of the road anywhere, as if it had never existed. She heard horrible cries coming from behind, and so she jumped back up and ran heedlessly deeper into the dead forest. Sipping his tea while walking slowly around his desk, Kollos continued speaking. "It seems that, at least until further information can be discovered, I must regard this force in the west as a direct threat to my own well-being, personally so directed or not. Fortunately, this will not interfere with my current project; indeed, I should be able to find out more while on this mission, considering some of the places I'll be going. Some research will definitely have to be done on Powers antithetical to life. I find it difficult to believe, but that priest could have proven useful right about now, with that reference tome of the gods he's got. A shame we didn't take it when we could have. Ah, well. Mourn in daylight. For now, I must do what I can to find out possibilities, as well as alert Ryork to do the same, if he's not already. In hindsight, it seems I should have pushed harder to get the group to go west; what they could have discovered could have been priceless. Obviously, when I get back, we'll have to redirect some priorities. In any case, I think that another plot, and therefore likely a war, involving various Powers seems to be showing its ugly little head. I shall see what I can do to cut it off." Kollos closed the book, and looked over to the inner door. Smiling, he walked over to it, opened it, and stepped into his inner chamber. "Ah, my dear," Kollos said softly, "I see you're ready." The door quietly closed.
The trees were alive! They were grabbing at her with old, decayed limbs, though she was just able to pull away from them and keep running, panic causing her to ignore all the scratches and bruises she'd received so far. She stumbled, but kept moving. She couldn't let those things catch her; she knew that they wouldn't kill her, and she knew that she would long for death if they did get her. Wait! A path! She saw a path! She gathered what strength remained and lunged forward down it, and abruptly emerged into a large clearing. In the middle was a shimmering circle of light. The way home! That was a portal that would get her home, she knew it, away from this nightmarish place! She started forward, but paused when she realized that at the edge of the clearing, all around her, were dozens of stooped, monstrous humanoid forms, gibbering quietly. Panic welled up again, but she knew she could get to the portal before they could stop her. She turned back to the light when all of a sudden it silhouetted the form of a giant bird, an eagle or some such, landing in front of her. Before her eyes, the bird transformed into a man, clad all in black leather, stepping toward her. She stepped back warily, glancing back and forth at the man and the portal behind him. He smiled at her, and made a small gesture. The portal disappeared! Her escape! Gone! Utter horror welled up inside of her, a terror that drowned out everything else. "Ah, my dear," Kollos said softly, "I see you're ready."
Volume 4, Number 1 March 1, 1998
The Man Who Moved the Mountain(Chinese folk tale)The stories in this column are for the young and the young at heart. They come from a variety of sources including books, television and conversations. I have edited and adapted them for re-telling in Role Playing News. as told by Andrea Berkman Once, an old man and his wife lived in the shadow of a towering mountain. They were busy keeping their one room house and tending a small garden. They enjoyed each other's company and for many years were happy together, but as time wore on the old man noticed a sadness in his wife's eyes. She worked more slowly and seemed less and less interested in her favorite hobbies. One morning at breakfast he asked her, "My dear wife, what troubles you so that you look as if you would cry?" "It is the mountain, my husband. It's shadow makes it so gray here. My garden struggles to grow for lack of sunlight and it saddens me to look through the window and see only darkness in the place of the summer sun. You are so strong, my husband. Can you not move the mountain so that its shadow no longer darkens my day?" "I would move many mountains, if it would make you smile again, my dear. After breakfast I shall go outside and when you have finished washing dishes you will look through the window and see only sun." They finished eating and the old man's wife thanked him as she cleared the table. After washing his hands, the old man turned and went outside to move the mountain. Letting the door to their shack close behind him, the old man stood and stared for a moment at the mountain. Then he rubbed his hands together, stepped up to the north side of the mountain and pushed with all his might. The mountain wouldn't budge. He pushed and pushed, but the mountain sat still. The old man sat back to rest as his wife who had been watching through the window opened the door to offer him some cool water. "Come and help me push, my dear. Together we will move the mountain." His wife smiled and said something the old man couldn't quite hear, but she ducked inside, put down the dish cloth and came to join him. Together they pushed and pushed, but the mountain still wouldn't move. "I have an idea," shouted his wife. "If we make enough noise maybe we can scare the mountain away." Before the old man could answer she darted into the house and returned with several kitchen pans and spoons. The two shouted and clattering at the mountain. "Out of the way!" they chorused, but the mountain wouldn't move. The day wore on and when it began to get dark the old man suggested they go inside. "In the morning I shall go to see the town elder. He is very wise and will know how to move the mountain. Sleep well, my dear wife and in the morning your world will be filled with sunshine." His wife smiled and they went inside to eat dinner and rest. The next morning after breakfast, the old man left for the village to speak with the elder. He waited many hours with the many others seeking advice and was finally granted an audience. "What do you wish?" asked the elder. "A blessing for your child, your new ox... your new home?" "I must ask your advice, wise elder. I must know how to move a mountain," answered the old man with a tremble of nervousness in his voice. "My wife and I live in the shadow of the great mountain. It's shadow casts darkness on her garden and her smile. She seems as if she would cry and I want so for her to be happy that I must move the mountain. Tell me what I must do, wise one and I shall be forever grateful." "It is an honorable desire to want to help your wife. Here is what you must do. Go home and in the morning pack your house on your backs. Take it apart piece by piece and carry it with you. When you have finished turn around three times, close your eyes and walk backwards until you can walk no more. When you have finished open your eyes and rebuild your home as you took it apart, piece by piece. Then go to sleep and when you have rested the mountain will have moved." "Thank you very much, wise elder," said the old man as he bowed respectfully and left for home. He arrived just after dark and told her all that the elder had said. They slept well that night and early in the morning the packing began. The old man and his wife took the house apart piece by piece and packed it on their backs. They began with the dishes, pots and pans and ended with the walls which came apart stick by stick. It took several hours. When everything had been packed they stood facing the mountain, closed their eyes and turned around three times according to the elder's instructions. Then they walked backwards for what seemed endless hours. Just before sundown, when they could walk no more they opened their eyes and rebuilt their home, just as they had taken it apart, piece by piece. It was dark when they finished and after a small dinner they slept soundly. The next morning the old man's wife woke first and shrieked with glee as she looked out the window. Bright sun streamed in the window and the mountain stood some distance away. "My husband," she screamed, "You've done it. You will be forever known as the man who moved the mountain." Join Andera at the Bard's Table. Just bring a story to tell. For more information email Andrea at andreamb@ix.netcom.com.
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