Open Chronicles Falling into Warmer Climates

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Character Biography
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(OOC: this is a sequel to the thread “Sudden Arrivals, Strange Portants”. Feel free to read that thread for the full context but here is a TLDR if you do not wish to. Irman completed his journey with Sigrun Flintfeet and Ispir Sione to deliver an ancient cursed mummy to the Noct Yaegir sanctuary of Crobhear keep. Much was learned about the mummy and the Noct Yaegir are now aware of a long forgotten threat, but Irman feels that his path leads elsewhere.)

It was after midnight, and the mountain winds howled around the old and honored keep. The merriment that filled Crobhear’s halls since sunset had died down, and the only lights still on were those of the night watch, stationed at the keep’s main gate. Having taken quite a bit of care to remain unseen since the discussion of the artifact, Irman Harefoot was prepared to exit by alternative means.

Before the sun was set, the short Rabbit-man had found a path he could jump down from the outer walls into the mountainside forests that spanned below Crobhear. It was a series of hops he felt comfortable he could do even with just the night sky to illuminate his surroundings.

Irman vaulted the stone battlements and fell to the trees below. As he descended he broke his momentum on cliffside rocks and sturdy branches, reaching the forest floor with nary a scratch. From there he headed northward, parallel the road which lead into Crobhear keep. He avoided getting on to the road itself or activating his alchemical lamp however, as he first wanted to put some distance between himself and the Keep’s guards.

Why all the secrecy? Well, Irman had been introduced into the keep as a fully fledge Noct Yaegir, However, he was not one. The colorfully dressed mercenary had only been given the insignia of a Noct Yaegir by an old orc who had attacked him in a sewer several months back. Now Irman didn’t know if the Noct Yaegir had punishments for impersonation, but he didn’t want to find out. So he figured that disappearing into the night was the best course of action. Though before that he also stole food and supplies to help him survive the road. Irman would have preferred to have taken less, but he had abandoned a lot of his traveling supplies on the trip to Crobhear after a kobold ambush left a young bard critically wounded.

Of course there was one thing that he took for convenience rather than necessity. A portal key, carved into a stone and, usable on the portal stone that lay in the wilderness north along Crobhear’s mountain range. Irman, was starting to feel restless with The Spine, and a portal stone would let him avoid all the trouble of walking down the massive mountain range (or being caught by the Noct Yaegir, if things were as dicey as he feared)

The journey to the Portal stone was uneventful, outside of the sun emerging into the sky and giving Irman a much wanted sense of warmth. The Stone itself was found in a clearing of old ruins. They were of dwarven make like most things in this stretch of the world. Unlike most ruins though these seemed well taken care of, likely thanks to the Noct Yaegir.

Irman approached the portal stone and examined it. There was always an air about these things. Older than written history and all around the world, with no two looking the same. The stones were able to move people from one to the other in an instant, provided you had magical talent, or a portal key. Only problem was Irman had never used a portal key before. He’d traveled via portal stone of course but was never the person to actually activate it.

“Well it can’t be that tricky can it?” Irman asked himself as he looked over the portal key in his hands and smoked his pipe.
 
Even being held at a distance, the portal key began to react. The runes let off a slight glow and the stone was feeling warmer in Irman’s hand. He shrugged and placed the key against the portal stone, trying to visualize the portal stone just outside of Dornoch on the Western end of the Taagi Baara Steppes.

Finding Mercenary work in Dornoch was some of the easiest, especially for jobs that let Irman avoid staying in one place for too long. It would be a welcome change from the untamed wilderness he’d been spending the last month or so in. So many trees and monsters and long forgotten ruins. It all had its appeal sure but Irman really wanted to get somewhere warmer.

The key crumbled in Irman’s hand as the air around the portal stone began to contort. Light drained from the clearing and Irman felt extreme vertigo followed by suddenly being somewhere completely different.

He was, in the air? Above a densely packed tree-line that stretched as far as he could see. The view was nice but short lived as the portal stone’s lingering magic faded and Irman plummeted down towards the trees.

“Waaaaaaaa-oof, ugh, gah, buh”

Large leaves and thick branches broke Irman’s fall as he passed through the canopy and landed on the jungle floor. He lay there for a moment feeling disoriented before jolting back when he heard his billhook clattering down after him. The polearm embedded itself into ground right where Irman’s head had been, and the disoriented Rabbit tried not avoid thinking about the absurd and pathetic end which had almost befallen him.

“I really must have been a real piece of work to deserve luck like this, huh? Now, where even am is this?”

Where Irman had ended up certainly wasn’t the wide open plains of Taagi Baara, in fact it was quite the opposite. A humid forest bursting with so much plant life it seemed absurd. Irman’s ears were filled with the chittering of insects and the chirping of birds.

“A place this humid, and this green… Has gotta a jungle

Irman muttered to himself as he plucked out his billhook and found his pipe.


“And unless that stone sent me somewhere I’ve never heard about, that means I’m either on an island south of Liadain, or east of the Spine in the Ixchel Wilds. And I didn’t see any coast line and can’t smell any seawater so… I’m probably in Ixchel!”

The colorfully dressed rabbit-man stood proud, impressed by his own deduction skills. Then that pride subsided into frustration, as he realized that there was a second pressing question that he didn’t even know where to start with.

“WHY THE SAM-HILL DID THAT STONE SEND ME TO IXCHEL?!”