Dark Age Of Camelot: Tales by the Hearth

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Grab a mug and gather 'round! Tales of great victory and bitter defeat await ...

Raislen, of Battle Lords, Pellinor The Group of Battlelords

It was early in the evening when Raislen, Albion scout of Pellinor, set out on his long journey through the frontiers to help defend his realm from the would-be attackers of Midgard and Hibernia. As Raislen pondered over his many maps of the area to see where he was needed most, Poisionangel and her friends invited him to accompany them and battle the forces of Hibernia. As would anyone in his position, he gladly accepted the offer and joined her group.

As Rais, as he was called by his friends, offered greetings to his new comrades, he realized that this was no ordinary group. This group was from the mighty guild known as Battle Lords, a guild he'd joined just weeks ago. Considering himself lucky to in such company, Raislen braced himself for battle.

Rumors were flying. There were concerns of Nightflier and Chulo from the enemy empire of Hibernia about in the frontiers. The Hibernian names were familiar to them all, for both had defeated many of his brothers in arms earlier that day. When Rais set out with his group, revenge was in the forefront of his mind, and the minds of the others as well. Many of his company had been resurrected after being killed by the volley of arrows from the enemy. This fight was no longer just about defending their realm. It was about destroying these two mighty Hibs that had been ravaging their countryside.

Suddenly, before the group had time to take off in the direction of one of the many fires that were burning over the land, word came from a fellow guild member, Tukk.

"Chulo has killed me and is headed toward Sursbrooke Outpost." The group took a second to reflect on this and laid out a plan. They would not charge headlong into battle. Instead, they would swim up coast to meet this foe from behind.

They readied themselves and took to the hills. With weapons at the ready and speed on their side, they navigated through the rough lands. They were surprised to be met with very little resistance as they made their way. When they reached the coast Angel halted them.

"Let us drink our potions and swim under the water" she said, "for the enemy will not expect this means of attack." The group smiled at their leader's wisdom and drank the fishy tasting potions. They were now able by the memory of King Arthur and the Trials of Atlantis to breath underwater. With the help of Jessiann Littlehawke, the group took up the speed of wind and traveled undetected to the rear of the outpost.

Upon their arrival the mission was simple. Find and kill the enemy and seek and destroy Chulo. The group surfaced and started with caution toward the Hibernian outpost in the Albion realm. Raislen and Caderi covered themselves in the stealth that they had mastered over the many years in the woods as scouts. The two made their way to the front of the keep to take a look.

"Quiet," Caderi told Rais. "Too Quiet."

"He must be in there. The candles are burning bright this night." Raislen replied.

Just then, out of nowhere, Raislen was struck with a mighty blow that would have taken him to the reaches of hell if it were not for Caderi. The arrow plunged into the deep recesses of his chest missing his heart my mere luck. Caderi at this point started to guard Raislen with his shield and was able to stop the onslaught of arrows coming from the keep. Uncovered by the shot of his arrow, Chulo started to run from the battle that would take his life. Raislen caught himself up and drew his bow, and with his last attempt to remain alive he fired his arrows of vengeance. Fire shot forth from the fingers of wizards with one intent, to kill this foe.

After the smoke had cleared and the group came together again, they saw the body of Chulo lying lifelessly at the feet of Poisonangel's pet. With the battle over, Anotherangel prayed over Raislen for many minutes to revive him. The breath of life returned to their friend's body, the group sat and rested. With the death of Chulo the mission was still not over. It was just the beginning...

Themaker, of Resurrection, Kay The Frontier Dungeon

The night air was filled with great expectations. After a week of collecting myself, I was in a great mood to try some beings of great strength in order to reassess myself and my many talents. A group friends and I decided to throw caution to the wind and hunt in Hibernia's dreaded frontier dungeon. Here, not only would we be vulnerable to monsters of enormous strength, we might also face those of the enemy realms: Midgard and Albion.

I arrived at the mouth of the cave and entered, assuming that my comrades would be inside enjoying the excitement of the hunt. Instead, upon entering the depths, I heard the final blood curdling screams of the very companions I had traveled to meet! Quickly, I pulled my cloak over myself and hid in the shadows to investigate the cause of their death. Slowly, I crept deep into the cave. There in the darkness rested a vile magician with several minions at his control. Beside him stood some sort of hideous fighter wielding a weapon so large that it took two hands to hold.

I knew that I alone could not take them. The shadows could only protect me for so long. I quickly sent for reinforcements, calling to the brethren of my guild. With no hesitation they heeded my call and arrived outside of the dungeon. Our small, formidable army readied to face these two intruders who felt the need to disgrace our fair land by setting foot upon it. After some planning, we proceeded to set the trap. The leader of the guild, brave and courageous, readied himself to enter the dungeon. I hid myself and snuck deep inside to wait behind the pair. This wasn't just about trespassing now, I thought as I pulled out my bow and nocked my deadliest arrow. This was about full-out vengeance for my fallen comrades.

When the vile enemies got sight of our leader, they attacked without mercy. I let fly my arrow from behind. A full-out battle ensued, for the moment the pair took action, the rest of our force rushed in from outside. The attack was short, but victory was sweet. Our fallen comrades were avenged by the pure slaughter of our enemy.

To us, it stood as a warning to other realms: Stay away from our lands! We do not take kindly to invaders!

Drast, of Midgard Forever, Guinevere An Unexpected Treachery

It was a bright and beautiful sunny day in Midgard. I awoke my undead warriors from the earth to fight again by my side and defend me from my enemies. The realm wars were all that I lived for. All that I knew was turmoil and death. Occasionally I would partner up with my fellow comrades in the field, some of which still lie beneath the grass plains, rest their soul.

Approaching the keep gates of Molvik, I was stopped by a beautiful wandering norsewoman. I had long ago learned that beauty is more trouble then its worth, but her intentions seemed kind enough. She introduced herself as Synterra, a shadowblade, believe it or not. She told me she was a first timer in Molvik and asked me to show her around. I agreed, and we wandered together around the area. I explained to her all of the dangerous places and the enemy outposts as we walked together. We reached the edge of the forest, and she pointed into the distance. A glowing tower poked out over the trees of the forest and she asked what it was.

"Beautiful isn't it?" I replied. "Dangerous, though. The Hibernians are magical creatures, but deadly. They're not to be trusted. Especially the elves..." I turned around, and she was gone.

"They aren't the only ones not to be trusted, Drast," came her voice from the shadows. A shiver ran down my spine.

"What do you mean, Syn?" I asked. Slice! Slice! Two sharp metal objects slid into my stomach. A roar blended with my scream. A female shar had somehow snuck behind me and struck me in the back. My skeletal comrades rushed to my aid, but an Elf appeared in front of my commander from nowhere.

"I have failed you, master," the commander croaked as it crumbled to bones at his feet along with the rest of my skeletal aid. I had fallen into a trap! Betrayed by my fellow midgardian!

"Goodbye Drast" Synterra hissed, making a slitting motion with her hand as the shar finished me.

"I'll see you in Valhalla, Synterra," I uttered with my dying breath.

"After you," My eyes slowly lost their focus on her cruel smirk as I blacked out. I followed my fellow comrades that had fallen before me...to Valhalla...

Sporak, of TheLost, Iseult The Hatching of the Zerglings

Not long ago in the old frontiers, our two groups were attacked by fifty or more albs at Nottmore Faste. The sky was lit by flaming spears and shimmering hammers while the albs rushed from behind the keep in a nice, neat formation. Previously, the enemy had been roaming throughout Midgard's frontier taking keeps at will with little to no resistance. So my group and another formed the defense and starting reclaiming our keeps.

Intelligence near Bledmeer reported some six to seven full groups of albions leaving the area. We assumed they had gone for siege replenishment and would be headed to Fenslir Faste, since it and Arvakr were Midgard's only remaining keeps. We claimed Blendrake Faste without any sightings and decided to lie in wait. After about ten minutes, we decided that the albs weren't coming or were hiding somewhere. Nevertheless, we were there for defense, not just to wait it out. We decided to head to Nottmoor Faste next since it was unclaimed, close, and had no obstacles on the way.

Now, I don't remember whether Nottmoor had two doors before the courtyard or just one. However, I do know that at least one door was down because just as we were entering the yard, we had a welcoming party. Amazingly enough, our casters were already up on the walls inside the keep and started to rain down thier magic on the Church of Albion wrongdoers. As a savage, I immediately ran out into the fray, blindly bumbling into anything with a glow around it. My similarity to a moth was quite striking, and so were my claws. The purple glow helped the sorcerers stand out in the dark of night.

I ran around, frantically rear and side-stunning anything that I could, before the area effect death from the casters above cleared the albs from my target lock. We were so occupied by the enemy that we didn't even kill the lord and take the keep back. Luckily, the albs were wise enough to never actually enter the yard. However, they did try to back off and regroup. Too bad for them another two and a half groups of us showed up after reclaiming Glenlock Faste and cut off the enemy's retreat.

THAT was when it really got ugly. Albs were running in every direction, and big old trolls chased after with their hammers. Then my lil kobbie self charged in, stunning more (I LOOOOVE it!!!), and generally sinking my claws into any "softies" that crossed my path. Fun time!

Ditv, of Genocyde, Mordred Genocyde's First Night Out

Tonight was Genocyde's first night out. Being that we are all friends, we communicate well, and none of us lag off very much. We had some fun out there on the battlefield. Normally we PvE, and the occasional buffoon slips into our camp and is slain. Tonight, though, we decided to try something new, so we headed out into the lush lands of Hibernia.

The first thing that hit us was a full group of yellows. They should have put up a tough fight, but we were too quick for them. They might have gotten the jump, but nothing stops a dedicated healer (other than a tank train). So I purged their mezz and area mezzed all of the group. I cured my own group's mezzes and our tanks jumped their druids and healer. Our spectacular Spiritmaster, newly freed from the spell, turned to cast. He must have critted on every lifetap, because our enemies went down fast.

We continued on to Ardee after our quick victory, only to run into three 50's that wanted our blood. We single mezzed each one of them, and took them down one by one. The turn-out for the night was 90k earned in 2 hours, which I think is pretty nice for a first night!