Chronicles of the Unrealm - a PuF RPG story

This is something that I been discussing with some of the other PuF'ers, especially LK. Originally concieved as an "alternative" to the starship eternaty threads, we decided to make something deeper out of it.

Should you wish to take part in this thread(I'm hoping you will, I'll be writing the parts of several characters myself, and we'll try to flesh out the setting as we go along), try to keep it "serious": i.e., no spamming, at least a paragraph or two, and if you wish to have a continuing character, keep posting on a somewhat regular basis.

You don't have to be a diehard RPG fan to write here; you can describe your characters skills and special abilities, but there's no need to talk about alignments, attack bonuses, THAC0, etc. etc. I myself play little more than Diablo2, and LK can be our "realism consultant" if needs be.

Thus being said, the journey begins here....


Wolfram stepped slowly into the dark cavern. It seemed to have been hewn directly into the face of the rock, but all indications of man-made construction dissappeared within the first twenty yards of the entrance. There had been a series of carefully placed support beams starting on the sides and ceiling of the opening which seemed to end abruptly, and there were several piles of the beams thrown haphazardly about the floor. In addition, there was a large collection of hammers, picks, and other tools scattered about in the same manner.

It was as if something had frightened them off, even before thay had been able to finish the entryway.

Wolfram continued further down the abandoned mineshaft, the light of the midday sun giving way to the gloomy glow of the torch in his left hand. His greaves smote the hard rocky floor with a dull metallic thud at every step. He had hardly progressed more than fifty paces before he saw the first body.

Holding the torch close enough to see clearly, Wolfram examined the wounds on the corpse and determine that they had been made by a a trio of long and extremely sharp claws. The dead man's spine was also shattered, his back bent nearly double over the sharp rocks upon which he rested. What had done this had to be extremeley strong. As Wolfram progressed further, the cavern drew increasingly more confined, and Wolfram was barely able to make his way through the tortuous passage without removing his armor. Though the uinique combination of a light breastplate with heavy leather bracers and leggings offered far greater mobility than full plate suits or plate mail, it was still a bit of a discomfort in such tight quarters.

The smell of rotting flesh assailed his nostrils; Wolfram passed several more bodies along the way, all of them slain in much the same manner as the first. The deeper he went, the stronger the stench seemed to grow. Wolfram saw several trails of blood now, indicating that many more had died here, and something had been dragging them off. Eventually, he encountered loose piles of bones, all human. Whatever he was after was very large, very powerful, and had developed quite a taste for human flesh. Wolfram unsheathed his broadsword and checked the one-handed battle axe that he always kept slung over his back. It was ready to be drawn instantly. When the area of combat was too close-in to use a shield effectively, the next best thing was another weapon. Wolfram pressed on. Suddenly the caves opened up into a somewhat larger area, and as he entered, he heard a heavy, muffled, series of what could be footsteps.

Then something bellowed in the dark, a grisly, beastly tone sufficient to turn any mortal's heart to wax and melt it. But Wolfram stepped forward, and was greeted by the sight of the creature's eyes.


[Edited by Wolf Blackstar on 10-25-2000 at 02:09 AM]

For a moment the eyes were all that held Wolfram's attention, then he glimpsed the rest of the creature and nearly fell off balance laughing.

The creature had to have been the ugliest mortal form Wolfram had ever encountered. It was huge, and though it possessed the size, the scales, and the claws of a dragon, its incredibly bloated and corpulent body was completely lacking in the grace and power which characterized such a creature's movements. It had only two large arms, though both were extremely powerful and tipped with hands possessed of three claws each well over two feet long, they had to be limited in range of movement. The foul beast's head was shaped like a snake's, but instead of fangs, the mouth appeared to be lined with hundreds of small but sharp teeth. It's body slid along the ground like a slug, and it seemed to wallow in its own fat as it moved. The whole thing was colored a disgusting shade of brown and reeked of a different smell than that which Wolfram had encountered earlier.

The filthy monster attacked, spewing forth a cloud of venomous gas which Wolfram easily avoided. Wolfram's torch seemed to intensify in light, and he realized that the poison was flammable. The creature took a swipe with its claws that would have surely severed Wolfram's head off in a single blow, but again he was too quick for the beast. He leaped well out of range of the creature, and quickly took the opportunity to plant his torch in the ground, freeing his left arm. Reaching into one of the pouches on his belt, he pulled out several magic crystals and threw them on the ground. They flared into light, illuminating the chamber far better than the single torch had been capable of doing. With his left arm he reached behind himself and unslung his axe.

Sword in his right arm, axe in his left, the bright lights of the crystals shining radiantly on his powerfully built body, Wolfram advanced. He carefully danced around the beast, luring it closer and closer to the torch.....

The creature lashed out with its claws again. Wolfram sidestepped a cruel slash, then his axe and sword bit deeply and tasted of the creature's blood. Howling in rage, the monster unleashed its venom again, as Wolfram had anticipated, leaping aside as the toxic cloud enveloped the burning torch.

It was a strangely beautiful sight, the fire ingniting the poisonous cloud and lancing up into the beast's throat, the monster writhing in agony, clutching its neck with its claws, thrashing about like a drunken slob. Wolfram couldn't resist laughing out loud again as he watched the ugly thing die.

As the beast collapsed dead on the cavern's floor, an almost imperceptible motion drew the attention of Wolfram's keenly honed senses. He had seen something, definitely alive, an unmistakable form....... a woman.

{note: This is excellent. The thread isn't growing as fast as the starhip threads, but the replies are somewhat meatier, and have more continuity. Keep 'em coming! }

Back in the cave, Wolfram's eyes darted from one woman's face to the other. Deciding to ease the mood a bit, he slung the battle-axe over his shoulder, but kept his sword in his right arm, which hung deceptively loosely at his side. He walked slowly to the torch and collected it, along with the magic light crystals.

Chun-Li stared at him for a moment, then at Natalya, then was the first to break the silence. "Come, let us be gone from this foul creature's lair. I should like to learn more about each of you, so that I may properly introduce myself, as well."

Wolfram began to follow the woman to the corridor that led to the mine's entrance, and made a note of Natalya, for as she left the large room she glanced about it quickly but thoroughly, the way a warrior surveys terrain for memorization.

After they had emerged from the dank mine into refreshing sunlight, he spoke.


"I am Wolfram. I know only that i am, or once was, a warrior. There is little else I am able to tell you about myself; seven days ago I recovered consciousness lying in a bloody battlefield, a bludgeon wound on the side of my head, and no memories whatsoever. I was surrounded by the dead on all sides; as far as I could tell, I was the only living soul on a mountainside covered with fallen corpses slain in battle.

Who or what I or the others were fighting, or what we were fighting for, is knowledge lost with my memory. My name I knew only from the etched markings on my sword and axe. I was determined to find any other survivors; I scoured the area, but I found nothing but the dead. I recovered much armor and weapons from the corpses, but not a single living soul had survived whatever conflagration had claimed the lives of those now lying dead on the mountain. I was mystified; I not only wanted to recover my identity and memories, but now i felt driven to know why i had survived what so many others had not. The terrain, though nameless to my now confused mind, seemed somehow familiar. for seven days, I set off across the mountain trails, pressing down into what I would later find out was the Forest of Silence. I was determined to find something or someone that could provide a clue or set me in the right direction to finding myself.

My first stop was an old mage-healer's shack in the woods; he was able to heal my wound, but when I asked him if he knew of "Wolfram", or anyone who knew of him, he shook his head, and began babbling about the increase of demonic activity in the land. When I mentioned the killing field, he said that there had never been such a large scale battle anywhere near the land in nearly two centuries. Though I did not expect him to know much about arms and armor, the weapons and gear that I had taken from the dead and brought with me were unrecognizable to the old wizard. Once again the old man returned to chattering on about monsters and demons lurking in the forests. When I asked the old mage about the monsters, he said that I should go with all haste to a small village located only two leauges to the west, and that a great evil had terrorized its populace. I thanked the old man for his services and set off on this new quest, in the hope that i might gain more knowledge upon its completion.

When I reached the village it was in chaos; men were packing up carts and horses with all speed in preparation to depart their homes, and women walked in the streets crying and screaming, grieving about how "the beast in the mine" had slain their loved ones. After talking with the few remainning folk, I learned that the town's only industry was a small iron mine which barely seen six months of operation before a foul creature had appeared from unknown depths, slaying all that crossed its path and devouring their flesh. Immediately I made haste to the mine to slay this beast; and now that I have done so, I find the two of you."

For a few moments, there was silence once more. Then Natalya turned to face Chun-Li and spoke: "If the village here is only populated by poor mine workers, then where does a lady of your background and status come from, and how did you manage to be captured by the beast?"

Wolfram stopped walking. It was indeed a good question.

Chun-Li gave a light laugh, then smiled awkwardly.

Wolfram turned to face Natalya, whose face betrayed the slightest hint of a mischievous smile. Obviously, he reasoned, this one was even more dangerous than he had figured before.

Then Chun-Li spoke.

Deep in the Forest of Silence, the old mage-healer warms himself in front of the fireplace in the tiny cabin. The shelves of his little mountain shack are lined with all manner of herbs and healing potions. A small bookshelf boasts a collection of arcane tomes.

The flames crackle lightly as they burn through the wood on the grate. The old mage gathers his robes closer about himself and draws nearer the flames.

All seems well, until the flames seem to rise higher. The mage adjusts the old wire-rimmed spectacles over his eyes, thinking it to be a trick of the light. Suddenly a massive tongue of fire leaps into the room and fans out in all direction. The terrified old man hurls himself to the floor to avoid the fiery onslaught.

Then suddenly, just as swiftly as it had happened, it is over. The mage stares at the fireplace for a moment, then looks around the room. He gasps in fright as he sees what had not been there before - a series of eldritch symbols has been burned directly into the surface of the wall.

The old man is puzzled for a second, then rushes to his bookshelf, retrieves a dusty old volume, and begins to translate the inscription.

After several more minutes, he slams the book cover shut, sending a fine spray of old dust into his face. He lets it settle, then looks again at the characters on the wall and reads: "A great evil comes forth today from the sea."