#Holt ironfell how to

If he wasn’t possessed by a lust for poetic justice, he’d have been one himself. I have many tales of Jobi’s exploits but the gist of it is that of all my friends, Jobi was the most at home in a world of villains. But seventy five years later, we hadn’t aged, and everyone who knew of our heist was dead. I admit, we could easily have stolen a potion that did nothing. We could not be sure of our success, as to measure its effects would take a long, long time. He and I had long ago stolen an elixir from the gypsies, back when they were favoured by a powerful sorcerer and had access to such treasures. Although time was short, I had made promises to some people which I intended to keep that is not to go alone.įirst, Jobi Mockery: my jester. I told Moonblade to meet me at the ruins of an old fortress to the west, in eighty-six moonrises. But I had learned a secret about my world that had terrified me to my very core, a secret at long last, which would be my doom.

#Holt ironfell how to

Even reading, which I had learned how to do long ago, was punishable by death for the common man. Sorcery of all sorts - psionics, elementalism, any deviant knowledge of any kind - was illegal in the city-states, for they were ruled by terrible and mighty god-kings. I was affluent and connected, powerful enough with the Bardic Circles and rich enough to have bribed myself into relative comfort and ease, but there was something very dangerous now that would inevitably lead me to a fate much worse than death. So it was that Moonblade found this ancient thing in the lost and dying lands. A rare event, as the Omari were of the deep desert, and preserved the larger part of what precious virtues they could hold onto by staying clear of the so called ‘civilized’ places. He had ventured into the city-state that controlled the Northlands, in search of me. It was the Omari ranger, Moonblade, who had come to me about it. In the middle of the tablelands desert, past the warlike tribes and feral humans, inside a mesa’s deep fissure, hidden on a dark wall, was a gateway surrounded by runes, the likes of which had faded from the memory of this world, if they were ever a part of its history in the first place. We wanted out, needed out, before our pasts caught up to us, and we were willing to do anything… Try anything. To accomplish my escape from my birthplace, a desert world which now threatened to profoundly destroy me, I had to bring some old friends with me.

When I sought to escape, the methods I was forced to use were not only illegal, but jealously guarded by the most wicked and powerful evils of my world.

You know me as a Grandmaster of Bards, a man who has forgotten more secrets than you have ever known. I once told you that the world I am originally from has no heroes, I told you that the villains won. Perhaps in doing so, I shall save your life, or make the wise amongst you forget the idea altogether. I have been but once, and only great necessity would drive me back. That is the Underworld as I know it: death, and worse. Perhaps you think all adventures end well, but travel with trusted friends long enough, and you witness death, and worse. Or for those weary of reading, just listen! – Narrated by the bard himself. A Forgotten Secret in the UnderworldĪs told by Grandmaster Bard Holt Ironfell Stepping through an ancient and hidden moongate, they end up lost in a vast and foreign Underworld, only to encounter a horrifying evil of the depths. For our final featured Tale of the Underworld, I will let Grandmaster Bard Holt Ironfell make his own introduction.įollow Grandmaster Bard Holt Ironfell and his most trusted friends as they escape a world where the villains have already won, in order to protect a dangerous secret.