Argyle Cash Flow
I like Saigos possible "background" for the guild 
Saigo, maybe you could try to work/write something out (a little more detailed maybe)(don't sweat with names).
And then we can run it past some of the DM's at Argyle, see what they say and, so we can get local names and stuff in it
Saigo, maybe you could try to work/write something out (a little more detailed maybe)(don't sweat with names).
And then we can run it past some of the DM's at Argyle, see what they say and, so we can get local names and stuff in it
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Well they have some geography and a timeline and some other stuff at their website.<snip>
Xandax, does Argyle have geography, politics, history, etc. worked out so that I can blend it with their campaign setting?[/QB]
Also if you need more info - get in touch with some of their DM's, or mail some to me and I'll ask them
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Xandax, I found the history and all. I'll try to find a way to make our history work with theirs and then fine tune the details with the DMs. Do you already have a relationship with them? Do they know anything at all about our plans? If this is going to be their introduction to the Blades, and they already know you, you may be the best person to make the initial presentation.
Niether(/Neither) we make allies(if things go bad steal their supplies and wipe em out)Originally posted by Xandax:
<STRONG>Branch guilds? - how do you mean craig.
To divide the BoTB up in smaller parties? or to branch out into other worlds? or to brach out into other guilds and infiltrate these?</STRONG>
Well, I guess Vessel will have to find someone else to protect his precious wares, then.
I like the idea of a background story. The Argyle DMs will probably only approve if it can be woven into their history, though. They've put a lot of work into that and want to make Argyle totally unique. We should go along with that.
If the background story doesn't work out, I guess we'll just have to form small groups that "accidentally" meet up in-game.
I like the idea of a background story. The Argyle DMs will probably only approve if it can be woven into their history, though. They've put a lot of work into that and want to make Argyle totally unique. We should go along with that.
If the background story doesn't work out, I guess we'll just have to form small groups that "accidentally" meet up in-game.
[url="http://www.sorcerers.net/Games/BG2/SpellsReference/Main.htm"]Baldur's Gate 2 Spells Reference[/url]: Strategy, tips, tricks, bugs, cheese and corrections to the manual.
How about none of us actually know each other. But we all have a signifying mark that shows we were trained at this academy. How about we have a tattooed sword or dagger on our arm. That would add for some more realism and role-playing. Plus that could be a quest in itself, we have to find each other.
Oxymoron of the day: Microsoft Works
Xyx, I have begun the history of the Banshees with Argyle's history in front of me. I think I can weave it in OK.
Good idea, Garret. I have already considered that -- we know of each other, but we don't really know each other. Let's say that there were scores of apprenti that scattered. We knew most everyone in the same discipline, we knew a few but not all of the others (mostly from related disciplines), but no one's really sure who or how many survived. Some of us have met up, or never seperated, and will begin adventuring together, but we will always be looking for our brothers.
Good idea, Garret. I have already considered that -- we know of each other, but we don't really know each other. Let's say that there were scores of apprenti that scattered. We knew most everyone in the same discipline, we knew a few but not all of the others (mostly from related disciplines), but no one's really sure who or how many survived. Some of us have met up, or never seperated, and will begin adventuring together, but we will always be looking for our brothers.
Try this on for size...
The Blades of the Banshee
Near the tongue of land bridging Upper and Lower Argyle, the Imperial Region of Zamollia was cut off from the Empire geographically and politically. The Emperor, Innue the Wise, would spare none of his resources for a region or a regional Governor that would not support his mania. Zamollia's Governor, Cedric Lesporel, became king at about the same time the other governors took the mantle, but Cedric would rule well. Cedric's legacy would be a line of descendants who would rule at least as well for almost two hundred years.
Under the rule of the Lesporels, Zamollians flourished, living off of the rich farmland and off of the sea and mountains that embraced them. Cedric had established a free community that welcomed immigrants of any race, so it was not unthinkable for non-humans to work or trade together. Rare, but not unthinkable. Then, in 1043YP, the first of the Plague refugees began to arrive, and the region was decimated. Kendall Lesporel, king for only three years, sealed the borders and burned the bodies, gradually abating the spread of the plague. By the spring of 1048YP, the month of Actheros, the threat of plague had diminished, and Zamollians thought they might survive.
One night in the month of Innue, 1049YP, the plague fires burned as warmly as the hearth fires, tempering the chill in the air. The moon's sliver was high above. Few noticed the light show atop Windcleave Mountain until its glow outshone the moon. Blue lightning danced and green flames cavorted with shimmering spectral forms, but none could discern its cause or effect. When the gray winter light grew in the morning sky, the peak of Windcleave mountain was charred black down to Blood Eagle pass. Straddling the pass, glowing with the heat of still burning coals, was a vile black fortress that Zamollians would call Xetheron's Spike.
For another month the iron Spike would cool while an icy snow fell across the valley.
The king gathered his army, and was dismayed by its size. Fewer than ten thousand were left. Still, he deployed them between the villages and the mountain, determined to protect his people.
One frosty winter morning, Kendall watched from the flap of his command tent as black shapes began to pour from the Spike, a boiling swarm of fleas against the snow. The swarm continued through the day and, by torchlight, through the night until morning. The dark army of inhumans, semi-humans, and demons was triple the size of the Zamollians'. Kendall spoke to his Generals and to Sarkis, captain of Banshee Brigade, the king's personal guard. The fifty elite Banshees were each worth a hundred men -- they might turn the tide. Kendall ordered Sarkis to lead the Banshees into battle, leaving the king defenseless. Sarkis protested but lost the battle of wills, and when the armies clashed, the king was alone.
In the midst of fierce fighting, the Zamollians were losing ground, but it was not the devastating defeat that the dark army expected. The Banshees fought with skill and power beyond anything seen before or since, and Sarkis out fought them all. Then thunder rocked the battlefield as Xetheron rode in. For a moment, the field was hushed. Then Xetheron charged and the battle raged again. Xetheron and his steed cut through the opposing armies like a ship through fog, making for Kendall's camp. Sarkis followed in the demon's wake, but he was too late. Xetheron had skewered the king on his lance and was hoisting the body as a standard.
At this, the Zamollian army broke and was overrun, slaughtered to the last man. The remaining six Banshees rushed to Sarkis and drug him away, headed as fast as possible to the Eastern Pass and out of Zamollia forever.
The Banshees, true defenders, had failed. Sarkis was determined that they would atone. Quietly, he and the other Banshees founded a school of martial arts, the Academy of the Blade, to train elite guardsmen and other mercenaries. Graduates became members of the mercenaries' guild, the Brotherhood of the Banshee, and were hired out to worthy rulers at exorbitant prices. The fame of the Academy and its graduates grew, and by the time of the reckoning the Banshees were respected across the land.
For over five hundred years, the Academy of the Blade had taken exceptional novices into its apprentice program and trained them for war. Masters of each discipline oversaw the training of fighters, battle mages, rangers, rogues, clerics, monks, and paladin. Banshee divisions fought on the side of good in every major battle across the land of Argyle until just over a year ago. The last was for the Allied Armies against the tyrannical Blackguard, Saluvius, and it was the Banshees who turned the tide. The conflict ended in Saluvius' defeat, but the Blackguard escaped. For three months he plotted with his demonic mentors to exact his revenge.
For the first time in its history, the school itself was attacked. Saluvius led a horde of demonic warriors into the Academy grounds while demon mages shattered its walls with devastating spells. Pennor, Grand Master of the Academy, gathered the apprenti, nearly a hundred in all, and ordered them out through a secret tunnel and into the hills. Once away from the compound, they were to scatter, in groups of no more than five or six, and seek a safe place to wait. News of the Academy's victory or defeat would certainly reach them wherever they were.
Unknown to the Banshees at the academy, similar demonic strike forces were attacking the Banshee divisions in the field at exactly the same moment, so reinforcements would never arrive. Few of the Banshees abroad survived those attacks, and those who did were broken and alone.
The Academy was destroyed. The battle raged for three days, and when it was done, not a single stone was left atop another. What could be burned was burned. The bodies of the fallen were violated, and the land that soaked up their blood was desecrated. The demons returned to Hell, taking Saluvius with them -- it was time to pay his debt.
At the exit from the escape tunnel, the apprenti watched, disobeying Pennor's command. Before they did as they were told, they swore a blood oath to carry on the work of the Academy of the Blade and the Brotherhood of the Banshee, taking the name the Blades of the Banshee. They split up and spread to the four corners of Argyle, learning their trades as best they could, gathering the wealth and influence they would need to carry on the legend of the Banshees.
I've edited for grammar and content, more or less, but not for style. Some of it is a bit florid, and I got carried away by story telling in some spots, straying too much from narrative style. I'll re-read it in a couple of days and clean it up a bit.
[ 11-08-2001: Message edited by: Saigo ]
The Blades of the Banshee
Near the tongue of land bridging Upper and Lower Argyle, the Imperial Region of Zamollia was cut off from the Empire geographically and politically. The Emperor, Innue the Wise, would spare none of his resources for a region or a regional Governor that would not support his mania. Zamollia's Governor, Cedric Lesporel, became king at about the same time the other governors took the mantle, but Cedric would rule well. Cedric's legacy would be a line of descendants who would rule at least as well for almost two hundred years.
Under the rule of the Lesporels, Zamollians flourished, living off of the rich farmland and off of the sea and mountains that embraced them. Cedric had established a free community that welcomed immigrants of any race, so it was not unthinkable for non-humans to work or trade together. Rare, but not unthinkable. Then, in 1043YP, the first of the Plague refugees began to arrive, and the region was decimated. Kendall Lesporel, king for only three years, sealed the borders and burned the bodies, gradually abating the spread of the plague. By the spring of 1048YP, the month of Actheros, the threat of plague had diminished, and Zamollians thought they might survive.
One night in the month of Innue, 1049YP, the plague fires burned as warmly as the hearth fires, tempering the chill in the air. The moon's sliver was high above. Few noticed the light show atop Windcleave Mountain until its glow outshone the moon. Blue lightning danced and green flames cavorted with shimmering spectral forms, but none could discern its cause or effect. When the gray winter light grew in the morning sky, the peak of Windcleave mountain was charred black down to Blood Eagle pass. Straddling the pass, glowing with the heat of still burning coals, was a vile black fortress that Zamollians would call Xetheron's Spike.
For another month the iron Spike would cool while an icy snow fell across the valley.
The king gathered his army, and was dismayed by its size. Fewer than ten thousand were left. Still, he deployed them between the villages and the mountain, determined to protect his people.
One frosty winter morning, Kendall watched from the flap of his command tent as black shapes began to pour from the Spike, a boiling swarm of fleas against the snow. The swarm continued through the day and, by torchlight, through the night until morning. The dark army of inhumans, semi-humans, and demons was triple the size of the Zamollians'. Kendall spoke to his Generals and to Sarkis, captain of Banshee Brigade, the king's personal guard. The fifty elite Banshees were each worth a hundred men -- they might turn the tide. Kendall ordered Sarkis to lead the Banshees into battle, leaving the king defenseless. Sarkis protested but lost the battle of wills, and when the armies clashed, the king was alone.
In the midst of fierce fighting, the Zamollians were losing ground, but it was not the devastating defeat that the dark army expected. The Banshees fought with skill and power beyond anything seen before or since, and Sarkis out fought them all. Then thunder rocked the battlefield as Xetheron rode in. For a moment, the field was hushed. Then Xetheron charged and the battle raged again. Xetheron and his steed cut through the opposing armies like a ship through fog, making for Kendall's camp. Sarkis followed in the demon's wake, but he was too late. Xetheron had skewered the king on his lance and was hoisting the body as a standard.
At this, the Zamollian army broke and was overrun, slaughtered to the last man. The remaining six Banshees rushed to Sarkis and drug him away, headed as fast as possible to the Eastern Pass and out of Zamollia forever.
The Banshees, true defenders, had failed. Sarkis was determined that they would atone. Quietly, he and the other Banshees founded a school of martial arts, the Academy of the Blade, to train elite guardsmen and other mercenaries. Graduates became members of the mercenaries' guild, the Brotherhood of the Banshee, and were hired out to worthy rulers at exorbitant prices. The fame of the Academy and its graduates grew, and by the time of the reckoning the Banshees were respected across the land.
For over five hundred years, the Academy of the Blade had taken exceptional novices into its apprentice program and trained them for war. Masters of each discipline oversaw the training of fighters, battle mages, rangers, rogues, clerics, monks, and paladin. Banshee divisions fought on the side of good in every major battle across the land of Argyle until just over a year ago. The last was for the Allied Armies against the tyrannical Blackguard, Saluvius, and it was the Banshees who turned the tide. The conflict ended in Saluvius' defeat, but the Blackguard escaped. For three months he plotted with his demonic mentors to exact his revenge.
For the first time in its history, the school itself was attacked. Saluvius led a horde of demonic warriors into the Academy grounds while demon mages shattered its walls with devastating spells. Pennor, Grand Master of the Academy, gathered the apprenti, nearly a hundred in all, and ordered them out through a secret tunnel and into the hills. Once away from the compound, they were to scatter, in groups of no more than five or six, and seek a safe place to wait. News of the Academy's victory or defeat would certainly reach them wherever they were.
Unknown to the Banshees at the academy, similar demonic strike forces were attacking the Banshee divisions in the field at exactly the same moment, so reinforcements would never arrive. Few of the Banshees abroad survived those attacks, and those who did were broken and alone.
The Academy was destroyed. The battle raged for three days, and when it was done, not a single stone was left atop another. What could be burned was burned. The bodies of the fallen were violated, and the land that soaked up their blood was desecrated. The demons returned to Hell, taking Saluvius with them -- it was time to pay his debt.
At the exit from the escape tunnel, the apprenti watched, disobeying Pennor's command. Before they did as they were told, they swore a blood oath to carry on the work of the Academy of the Blade and the Brotherhood of the Banshee, taking the name the Blades of the Banshee. They split up and spread to the four corners of Argyle, learning their trades as best they could, gathering the wealth and influence they would need to carry on the legend of the Banshees.
I've edited for grammar and content, more or less, but not for style. Some of it is a bit florid, and I got carried away by story telling in some spots, straying too much from narrative style. I'll re-read it in a couple of days and clean it up a bit.
[ 11-08-2001: Message edited by: Saigo ]
Hey that is damn good.
Great job.
Better change the story behind the character.
Hey anybody mind if i make my character one the kids of an original Banshee members?
I want to stick to following a family tradition type deal with my character!
Great job.
Better change the story behind the character.
Hey anybody mind if i make my character one the kids of an original Banshee members?
I want to stick to following a family tradition type deal with my character!
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? - Khalil Gibran
"We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!" - Winston Churchill
"We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!" - Winston Churchill
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Aye, I like it. If it goes through, I believe my character, Saien McGerney, will have been trained by one of these apprenti and brought into the ways of the Banshee. Unfortunately, he won't survive a later encounter, leaving me to carry on my knowledge of the Banshees.
This is just one route any of our characters could take to become one of the Banshee. Or, like Fas, it could be passed down through one's lineage.
I was skeptical at first, but I like the history this gives our guild. It serves to unite.
Excellent work, Saigo.
This is just one route any of our characters could take to become one of the Banshee. Or, like Fas, it could be passed down through one's lineage.
I was skeptical at first, but I like the history this gives our guild. It serves to unite.
Excellent work, Saigo.
Totino's party pizzas rock! All a college kid needs to get by....