The Epic Campaign

Behold! A New Dawn Rises
nevermind; it's just a floating city

Behold the return of once lost Triskailion, floating ponderously about our fair city. Our mighty leader has won for us this day a great victory. With all the knowledge contained within its walls, and the fealty of its leaders Four Mile Island shall rise even faster towards the heavens. This discovery will be heralded across the land for centuries to come as the moment that Four Mile Island irrefutably eclipsed the onerous Tameril Imperium.

I have personally spoken with many of the gnomish citizens of Triskailion about their recent plight, getting the words from the dragon’s mouth as it were. Their story, at least prior to the arrival of High King Ruz, is a sad tale of anguish and heartache. Their once grand city had fallen far from the heights at which it once soared—both figuratively and literally. It was during this, their time of greatest woe, that terrible creatures from the bowls of the earth took from them their greatest possessions. These horrible illithids took not just their homes, inventions and the city itself, but also the very mind and will of the citizens.

For years this tragedy was allowed to continue, during what is now known among the people as the “time of loss”. It seems that with all of their brilliance and cunning, the mind flayers were unable to operate their new prize, and their mind reamed servants were of no help. For far longer than the tentacled horrors desired, they spent their time struggling to discover the secret to the gnome’s jewel. First years, then decades and centuries passed as the aberrations poked and prodded in an attempt to gain control of the floating city.

When the mind flayers finally achieved their long desired result they set out to collect more of their kind and build an alliance with the horrible drow. Together these races of evil plotted and schemed, trying to decide how best to conquer the world. They finally stumbled, quite accidentally, onto a plan when Lord Ruz returned to take command over Four Mile Island. Their target was set. With a plan set firmly in their twisted minds the illithids began their nefarious strategy.

But they had miscalculated. Their plan, admittedly brilliant by the standards of such a weak race, involved the capture or outright murder of King Ruz. As all wise citizens of Four Mile Island know, such outrageous plans must always fail. King Ruz willingly fell into their trap, presenting himself oh-so-willingly to them. This was of course simply our great leaders own ingenious plan. Why slaughter your way through hoards of tentacled minions when the fools will simply present you to their overconfident leader? His target in sight, our majestic eminence mercilessly slew all, cutting the elder brain down with nary a thought.

The remaining army, surging up through the caverns beneath the island, were completely unaware of the doom that was about to befall them. The Legion, having just disposed of several hundred hidden mind slaves within the city, were almost upon them. Those fabulous men of metal stood defiantly in the approaching armies path, and the drow broke upon them like a waves crashing upon a cliff side. Even at this very moment the Legion pursues the remaining ebony fools through the twisting tunnels of the Underdark. The spider kissers believe that they can hid from King Ruz’s loyal soldiers, that their knowledge of the caverns and tunnels will save them. What they have forgotten is that the Legion needs no rest, they never tire, and they are relentless in the pursuit of their objective.

Now that their city is free from the burdens of slavery, and with the help of King Ruz’s hand-picked master artifer—Tink, crafter of the Legion, builder of the mighty airship—the gnome’s of Triskailion can once again begin to rebuild their society. In time, and with the gentle guiding hand of our beatific ruler, they shall once again be a domain of wonder and invention. And with the protection afforded by Four Mile Island and her allies, Arcadia, Argotha and Dwarflind, never again shall her people have to suffer the humiliation and denigration that they have faced these past millennia.

Now go forth, people of Four Mile Island, with heads held high. Your fair nation is the jewel of all the world, and shall receive the rewards for being such shortly, when the World’s Meet begins.

ALL HAIL LORD RUZ!! LONG LIVE THE KING!!!

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Campaign Notes Ia01

The fight for Triskailion went well, there is nothing that can stand in our way, except for a defect in a neck brace that has laid me low. It was indeed fortunate that Tink was able to produce the backup device to make up for his sloppy workmanship. I have been stuck in this Limbo for 4 mins and 16 secs and I already grow bored of this existence. The thoughts of the previous month have been filtering back into existence, forcing me to relive through every day that I have already conquered. At his rate it will take another 23 hours 54 mins and 20 seconds to complete the download of everything previously recorded by my body. To make use of the time I have remaining I shall document the events that transpired since the last note that I produced.
Triskailion is an odd and disorganized city. Its sewers are worse. I was surprised by the lack of refuse in the sewers. These gnomes must be able to fully digest food, or else they have some sort of magical means of reducing the waste in the sewers. There is also an ingenious design so that when a sewer gets too full, it is tipped and deposited into a holding area. My weight must have triggered this response and as the sewer tipped I was forced to hold on lest I fall with the rest of the crap. On a side note I could have sworn I saw a Tor, a small mechanical creature, native to my home plane. The more I descended the more it began to bother me. What would a creature from there be doing in this sewer, secondly am I not the only thing that came from that plane, is it possible that the creator is now in this world and is now sending scouts after me. I have declared my independence of Sigea‘s Tyrannical rule. I shall not be a servant to such a ruler. I shake my fist at even the mention of his name… Oh shit! I was climbing. Thankfully I am able to catch myself.
Finally I get to the bottom of this sewer and this is when it hits me. There was no way a gnome could have shat out something that huge. Perhaps the elder brain has that large of feces, but it sure didn’t come from a gnome. Unfortunately it is also overwhelming my sensor inputs. Unable to correctly take note of my surroundings I decide I may as well clean myself off, unfortunately I am not alone down here. Some green monstrosity rises out of the garbage to attack me. I thought it foolish, for I went with the full confidence of Ruz. Nothing could threaten me and live of that I’m sure. The foolish otyugh died after a few good swings with my ax. Unfortunately for the gnomes, I may have killed their waste removal system. The sewers now have no way of emptying out, it will bring the city to its knees. I however do not have the time to wait for that tactic to work, I must press on, but first I have to clean myself up. There is something acidic in this gunk that is wearing away at my lubrication. There are a handful of gears and other parts in here. While on Agerias I knew how to build tors. These are the parts that I would use. Perhaps it is just coincidence, but it seems suspicious.
I am able to find my way out of there using a poorly placed secret door. The door is at the same level as sewage, so when I open it, the contents are poured into a previously clean hall. Who would bother cleaning up this mess everytime someone needed to gain access to this area? Seems like such a waste of time. I am left with the thought that perhaps there is a plug at the bottom of that chamber. Since it is a floating city they can just dump the refuse out the underside of the city at opportune times. I must remember to suggest this design to the gnomes so that they no longer feel the need to press abberations in to slavery just to eat their crap.
I know I must be getting close. Probably right behind this door. Oh no, just a gnome. He says his name is Vin. However he is a liar, for he said that Tink had is brain sucked out, by the pink squishy things. There is a chance he is refering to a different Tink, but then again there is a chance this is a reanimated corpse of a dead street sweeper. That would be ridiculous though. He is quite useless in battle. He refused to distract the monsters that I might produce a Teleportation circle. At least he pointed out where they are. I decided that the antechamber next to the room would make a good spot to make the Circle. I used a string of sigils that only I knew. If anyone should find out and decipher this string of sigils, it would probably drive them insane. What’s this? I hear my brothers. It must be an invasion. There are probably spies in the city working for Sigea. I order my brothers to react harshly to any suspicious activity. We must keep peace at a time like this. Upon completion I find I had used more energy then I expected and must rest for 4 hours. Ruz has a brilliant idea. By putting me prominently on the prow of the ship leading the crew into battle, morale will be boosted and the men will fight all the better when we arrive.
I am now rested and take Ruz and Imix with me to the glorious battle that awaited us. I fear I may have caught my first glimpse of a returned Sigea. The strange man next to the floating brain was able to control the brain. He was seeking out Ruz, did he know that this was the same spirit of DeRux. Everything just leads to more questions. He did know my name, but if any hatred came from his recognition, I failed to see it. The battle was tough. The brain kept using psychic energy to mess with my sensors. I found that it seemed to tickle. I’m not sure why, I must ask Tink about that odd glitch. Though it was tough, the kill of that Shard of Sigea was satisfying. I must hurry along my plans to resurrect Bane. With his powers I may finally be able to defeat and destroy my creator, and finally be free.
My brothers were also quite successful at routing out spies. We had over 600 in Four mile island alone. Surely a great attack was coming for that many to be found so quickly. I rescind my orders, knowing that the other traitors will get the message. I need that message of fear sent to the rest of the coming army. They will know doom long before they see the glimmer of machini coming to slice them down.
The gnomes are happy. They apparently feel the need to celebrate such a short and meaningless victory. Don’t they know of the greater danger out there. Tink is also happy. With new helpers, upgrades can be performed in a much smaller amount of time. I found out that what I dismissed earlier ends up being true. Vin really is an animated corpse. We warn the gnomes that he is probably a danger, though I figure he is still where I left him, worried that I was going to eat his brain. He didn’t seem to get out much. The world’s meet is in a few days, and I know that there is trouble brewing. We shall see what appears there.
Tor production to start when my body is reanimated. Perhaps by studying them I may gain a greater understanding of what we are facing, or maybe I miss the challenge of creation.

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Campaign Notes CS91

I lead a glorious battle this day. Target was a King of Summer. How can an elf have such a short reign? Three months is hardly enough time to bring glory to yourself. The ways of the elves are odd, however they make decent wine. It is good for getting the dirt off my exoskeleton, and causes a slight feeling of euphoria. The Target hid behind his own son. What kind of being hides himself behind others? There is no shame to leading an army, but poking them in the rear is dishonorable. These savage creatures would send their own children to die in their place. It is glorious to be in battle, not let others fight for you. (Interesting side note: There are trees in Argotha that seem to be alive and able to fire bows. I would have remained unharmed from this charge if not for those trees. I must make a note to slay them latter.) The elf I captured alive. Well I’m told he is an eladrin, but I don’t see the difference. Can he comprehend what will happen to him, does he know the great sacrifice he is making in the name of War? He will contribute to the talents of the greatest fighters so that they may make war!! Bane be praised, that I might lend a hand in his return upon the greatest battlefield ever. Ruz must be a great battlefield commander, knowing that I was able to handle the King of Summer and his butt prodiness, he led the other machini to victory. Surely he will lead us to great vicious slaughters.

We found a floating City. I’m certain we can claim it. There seems to be tall pink squishy things that have taken over the city. They make a strange slurping noise when i hit them with an axe. I didn’t have time to investigate further into this noise as the coward ran from battle before it was joined in full. If I see him again I shall kill him for daring to run from me.

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The Elf King Ravaged
The King of Summer Takes a Fall

While I did not bear witness to the magnificence of our lord Ruz, the tale of his victory over the king of the Argothan elves cannot go untold. Through reports told to me by the servant of his exalted presence, Sotark, I have fashioned a fantastic telling of the events that have so recently transpired. I assure you that Sotark is incapable of lying, and the following is an accurate retelling of the events related to me by him, with very little in the way of embellishment of dramatic flourish.

Lady Hall, of the newly formed kingdom of Argotha—as created by his eminence—was in dire straits. The elvish king, known as the King of Summer, was leading his rebel army against her with a superior military strategy. In a matter of days, the new kingdom would have been overrun by elven invaders, with men and children put to the sword and women being raped by the vile beasts. Things were bleak and moral was failing. Her new kingdom was about to fall, and lady Hall was incapable of preventing it.

The lord Ruz, being the beneficent leader that he is, saw fit to go to the aid of our ailing sister state. E’en though he could certainly not be held responsible for the failings of the new leadership since his emancipation of the realm, our great lord felt it necessary to step in and protect his investment in the fledging realm and its people. His majesty, no doubt countless steps ahead of the savage elf king, had a plan the likes of which had never been seen. It was a plan both cunning and daring, a plan that would endanger the very life of our noble king. But the lord Ruz is never above personal danger when so much is at stake.

Standing between lord Ruz and the elvish king was a vast army of elves, cowardly hiding amongst the boughs of the forest, using arrows to attack from a safe distance and then run before they could be punished for their impudence. For weeks these elves had harried the lady Hall’s men, bringing them almost to the brink of destruction. To defeat such timidity lord Ruz took the elves head on. Leading a column of fifty Legionaires, he charged through the forest, heedless of the numerous foes surrounding him and the countless arrows engulfing his forces. E’en though many of the Legion fell beneath those arrows, lord Ruz, revealing a touch of the divine presence that no doubt inhabits his mortal form, won through to the enemy encampment unscathed.

Here, in the very heart of the elves last bastion, resided the King of Summer, a vile beast more fiend than man, a monstrosity that could scarcely be called “king”. This philistine sought to disguise himself from our holy ruler, placing his mongrel son in regal vestments as a distraction. While the lesser beings that had accompanied our divine monarch were fooled by this obvious ploy, his greatness was not deceived by so rudimentary a ploy.

Lord Ruz took the battle directly to the King of Summer, trading blow for blow and giving far better than he received, while brazenly ignoring the strikes—attempts to strike his rapturous personage by the elvish king’s half-wit guardians. Shaking off wounds that would have staved in a lesser man’s skull, and yet still finding the time to deliver orders and encouragement to his remaining troops still battling the elvish hoard, the transcendent being that we daily worship took the life from the elvish monstrosity, cutting the head from the serpent as it were. Not one to give an enemy time to recover and strike again, he then had the Legion put all of the remaining elves, those foolish enough to surrender, to the sword that the threat would be laid to rest forevermore.

With the elves vanquished, the Argothan people bowed down before the lord Ruz, begging—nay pleading with him to reclaim his rightful place as their king, that they too might benefit from his ambrosial wisdom. Humbly, our hallowed king declined their earnest entreaty, reassuring them that he had made the best decision possible in appointing lady Hall to watch over their daily lives, and reminding them that he would always be watching, his omnipotent gaze always encompassing them, and his majestic manifestation never far from them. His mission accomplished, and his legend emboldened, the lord Ruz returned triumphant to the halls of his sublime palace, where he resumed the dispensation of his supreme will, leading we the people of four mile island ever toward glory and jubilation.

Now all heads bow in reverence of our blessed lord. Let no ill word be spoken against him. May his enemies tremble with fear at his approach and fall upon his righteous blade. Long live lord Ruz.

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The Argothian Speech
A Speech by Scaramouche Porter, Page Boy

Today we stand on the precipice of a dangerous chasm. Tyranny in the guise of ‘unity’ has enshrouded all of Tameril. The rise of the Imperium – based supposedly on mutual protection of its base members – has resulted in the loss of sovereignty, nay freedom, for all corners of the land. To counter-balance this affront to liberty everywhere, the Lord Protector of Four-Mile Island, Lord Ruz, Champion of the People for the People,has henceforth declared the Colony of Argotha a free and sovereign state.

To facilitate the liberation of the new Empire of Argotha, the Lady of Four-Mile Island, Charity de la Hull will forevermore be known as Queen Hull of Argotha.

There are times in which tradition should be held in the highest regard, and times when ‘tradition’ merely means ‘antiquated.’ To this end, Lord Ruz regretfully announces the dissolution of the Council of Four-Mile Island. This he does with a heavy heart, and an eye on the past; for without the Council’s guidance, this great state would not be what it is today. Strong!

While keeping an eye on the past, the Lord Protect is yet keeping an eye on the future, trained on danger that looms nearby. Gone are the days where the slow reacting council was practical to rule the country. In his wisdom, Lord Ruz, now known as Grand Primier, will lead Four-Mile Empire into the future. Into prosperity. Into VICTORY!

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