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carp0nastick · 13 days ago

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Heaven's Gavel Pt. 3

The following is a log of a solo RP game.

Hysterics and Fanatics

It took a while, but the press of bodies finally relented. Thæry suggested they wait a bit for the crowd to clear, but for some reason people kept milling about the barrier. As the two challengers got close, they could hear someone shouting to the throng. Ardam couldn’t hear what was being said, but he knew the cadence of a sermon when he heard one.

“Is somebody preaching?” He asked as the voice became a bit clearer. At his words, Thæry’s shoulders hunched as she pushed her hand through the barrier, causing the still stacked bodies to fall like macabre dominoes. Without a second’s hesitation, she started advancing down her bloody path, mace already coming out of the loop on her belt. Ardam almost balked at the suddenness of the movement. He had thought there’d be more time to steel himself. He only stuttered one single step though, and followed his companion through the magical prison wall. He could shore up his courage when they actually went to the tower, he guessed.

Up ahead, Thæry stalked forwards, her hand sliding down the haft of the mace to hold it at the handle, ready for use. Three men in red robes were standing at the head of the group. One loudly shouting his sermon at the crowd. Ardam could now hear the words clearly, and they hardly made any sense.

“This apostate would blind you with her words! Seek not to escape! Embrace the cleansing of the most holy stone. Ye have been chosen to be purified and join the gods eternal! Aspire not to challenge the tower, await the blessed…” The man speaking trailed off as Thæry and Ardam got to the front of the crowd. He was holding a grey robed priestess of the Order of Shepherds by the long braid of black hair she wore. All three had the vestments of some priesthood or another, but Ardam would have pegged them as street thugs were it not for the robes. The fact that they had clearly assaulted a priestess from an order he recognized didn’t help. The man holding the priestess took a few moments, taking in Ardam and Thæry as the adventurer stalked straight towards them, Ardam keeping pace, but entirely unsure of what was going on. The man’s eyes flicked back and forth between him and Thæry several times before a flash of recognition caused him to jolt as a realization hit him. “You’re the Hammer…”

Without a word,Thæry lunged, bringing her hammer in a sideways arc against the robed man’s head. The crunch left no room for doubt as the crowd watched the newly minted corpse crumple like a dropped bag of grain.

“Of Barstan.” Thæry finished for him. Her left hand picked the priestess up by the arm, pushing her towards Ardam as the crowd stared on in shock. Ardam, just as shocked as everyone else, managed to catch the girl and hold her upright. The adventurer of name flicked her mace, splattering the cobbles between herself and the remaining two robed men with their compatriots blood and brains. She spoke in a loud voice, one that the crowd gathered around could hear as they started to parse what they had seen. “Not a surprise to see you lot here. Where you go, the tower always appears.”

Ardam could feel the crowds collective breath suck in once again. Heads turned slightly left and right, but only slightly. This was the same crowd that had been crushing people to death against the barrier in a panic moments before. Thæry’s accusation spread like a wildfire through those who so desperately wanted to avoid the crushing fate quite literally hanging over their heads. Thæry didn’t even bother continuing to square off with the other two robed men, and resumed her march towards the center of the tower’s shadow. Ardam followed, practically picking up the priestess in his arms. Not really knowing the idea, but rushing ahead had kind of been his thing today. The two thugs in robes acted like they wanted to stop the three, but before they could act on it, a man from the crowd lurched forward and grabbed one of them. “DID YOU SUMMON THE GAVEL HERE?” The hysterical shout rang out as Ardam kept pace with Thæry. Ardam sped up, slipping free of the crowd just as it surged once again. He heard a frenzy of ripping noises from behind, and tried not to think about how juicy they began to sound as he put more distance between the mob and himself. The trio continued down the road, now within the city of Lorn proper. The priestess, coughed politely as they walked, and Ardam realized he had been carrying her along without really asking. He stopped to set her down. She was a dainty thing. At least Ardam, used to hard working farm women and his newfound adventurer companion, thought so. Long black hair, tied into a single braid went over her shoulder, as the gray robe of the Order of Shepherds hung off her slight frame. She was carrying a crooked staff, as was common among the order. Uncommonly, hers had an elemental casting jewel floating within the crook. Were priestesses allowed to learn combat magic? She looked at him through narrow, almost closed eyes, a slight bit of redness on her cheeks as she regained her feet. Ardam made a quick, one handed gesture of apology to her, before turning to catch up with Thæry’s single minded advance. To his surprise, he heard small footsteps coming along behind him as both he and the priestess caught up to the adventurer at the same time.

“Um. Excuse me! Miss adventurer? Is what you said true? Did they summon the tower?” The black haired girl said. The sound of her voice surprised Ardam, she was around the same age as him.

“Doesn’t matter.” Thæry said bluntly. “The Cult of the Tower worship the damned thing. Think it’s falling means they all get to go to heaven and be told they’re the gods most goodest and special boys. They’ll do anything to stop challengers from getting in, and I do mean anything. They probably have more thugs waiting ahead, if not assassins in the tower chasing anyone who’s already started a challenge.”

The answer stunned the priestess for a step. Ardam had stopped trying to guess at what Thæry might know by this point. It made sense for people who worshipped the tower to not make sense like that. Barely anything had made sense yet today, so why not a bunch of suicidal maniacs trying to make things worse? The priestess caught back up, keeping pace with the two as if that was somehow agreed upon.

“But… if the tower drops…” She started.

“If it drops, it starts with fire.” Thæry interjected. “The air can’t get out of the way fast enough, and the whole bottom burns as it falls. The impact site doesn’t even survive long enough for the stone to hit the ground. That same air crushes everything under it. Everything not directly under the tower gets blown away in a gale as strong as any tornado. Stone walls will get swept away as if they were children’s blocks. Then the tower hits, and anything that’s still alive gets their legs broken as the ground bucks under their feet like a ripple in a pond, but made of solid earth and as high as a man. Then the fire and ash burn anything left inside the barrier, and then the damn rock picks somewhere new to ruin. Even if those guys don’t have the power to summon the stone, I have every right to want them dead.” The priestess almost lost a step again as she listened, but something seemed to stiffen in her steps, and she kept pace with them.

“I can’t let that happen…” The priestess said, and Thæry looked at the smaller woman with that same approving grin she had graced Ardam with earlier. Ardam was about to protest, if everything was as dangerous as the woman who was proven quite dangerous herself suggested, then it was no place for a skinny girl like this priestess to be. A familiar sight made the words stick in his throat as he saw the inn his family often stayed at when selling their wares in town through an alley.

“Wait!” Ardam said, a little more intensely than he intended. He was actually surprised that Thæry listened and halted mid pace. “That’s the inn where Eisha, my sister, is supposed to be staying. I have to know she’s okay, just hang on a short bit, please.”

Without waiting for an answer, Ardam ran down the alley towards the inn. The Rusted Halberd was as it always was. Ardam breathed a sigh of relief at the sight. He’d been worried with all this rioting and panic that a fire might start in the town. Hearing two sets of footsteps behind him, he went through the door. The carved heavy door that was the inkeep’s pride was hanging ajar at an odd angle, but Ardam didn’t expect the place to be pristine. The inside was mostly dark as the windows hadn’t been thrown open as normal. Only the ones by the inkeeps counter were open, casting light on the slumped form of the proprietor. A balding, grey bearded former town watchman, his body was hunched on top of the counter. His still unbent back was rising and falling with slumber, as several tall pitcher’s of ale told the story of how he’d taken the news of the day.

“Jorek! Jorek, wake up! Where’s Eisha? Is she here?” Ardam said, shaking the drunken man awake. After a few blinks, Jorek’s flushed face lit up with recognition.

“Ardam? Right… Ardam. Yer here for lil’ Eisha… course ye are. Good big brother…” The man pushed himself up from the counter, tottering on his feet a bit, but trying his best to think for the boy he’d known for years. “Eisha… she ran out… Not sure where. Took her sword… said… what did she say?”

Ardam waited, aware it was only taking moments, but the inebriated delay was putting strain on his brotherly concern once again. His tail was flicking back and forth like a whip in distress. Just as he was about to lose patience with the drunk he felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder and at his elbow as his two companions sought to calm him down. Jorek, for his part, seemed to get his feet under him, and looked up at Ardam.

“Said she had to do something. She might have said what, but she was running out the door so fast. You two always were so fast…” Jorek eased into a stool. Slumping with something more than age or alcohol to it. Ardam lowered his head in frustration. After all this, she could be anywhere, even back at…

Thæry’s hand squeezed his shoulder, as if she knew where his head was going and wanted to remind him. Ardam gathered himself and let out a deep breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding.

“We already know what we have to do, right?” He said, turning to his companions. Thæry beamed back at him with her usual inscrutable grin. The priestess gave a nod with her eyebrows furrowed in determination.

“Thirty years…” Jorek said behind him. “I protected this town for thirty years. Now some grand holy prick on high’s just going to smush it like a bug in the gutter.” Ardam turned back to his longtime friend, bright blue eyes looking intensely into the former guardian of the city’s.

“It won’t, old man. I won’t let it.”

#solo rpg #fantasy #fabula ultima #solo roleplaying

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carp0nastick · 17 days ago

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Heaven's Gavel Pt. 2

The following is a log of a solo RP game.

The Road to Judgement

Normally the trip to Lorn took half the morning. A large part of that was the stop at the toll bridge at Millman’s Crossing. Ardam made the trip at a run before the sun had even fully made it’s way into the sky. Eisha was in Lorn! He had to hurry!

When he saw the bridge, his heart sank. The situation was pure chaos. People on Lorn’s side of the river were in a stampede to get across. There were too many people, and too many carts mashed onto the bridge as the king’s toll collectors shouted in futility to make the crowd cross in an orderly fashion.

Ardam paced back and forth. Frustration and panic making his heart race more than the run here had. He had to get across this bridge! He had to get to Lorn and find his sister! Couldn’t these panicking fools let him through?

A loud whistle caught his attention. Reluctantly, Ardam took his eyes off the bridge and looked to where he had heard the sound. There, sitting on the bank of the river, was the adventurer from yesterday. She appeared as calm as could be and smiled at him with a slight smugness to her grin, as if she had been expecting him. She stood up and dusted her rump off before coming over to him with an unhurried gait. “Lemme guess, somebody you care about is in Lorn today?” The brown haired woman said, smile looking as though she already knew the answer. Ardam nodded. The woman nodded back, then pointed down at the base of the bridge where a small boat was docked. “Ever rowed a boat before?”

The two were soon inexpertly splashing their oars into the water together. Neither of them knew exactly what they were doing, but had enough of an idea that they were making headway against the current regardless. A commotion on the bridge preceded some cargo tumbling over the side as the adventurer sighed. “How pointless.” “What do you mean?” Ardam asked.

“Don’t they know the legend around here?” She said. “The tower puts up a barrier so that no one can escape judgement. If you can run, you’re obviously not inside the barrier, and if you are inside the barrier, then you shouldn’t bother trying to run.”

“Maybe they’re worried the tower will fall and catch them in the blast anyway?” Ardam offered.

“Gavel’s fall, they really don’t teach that stuff around here, do they? The tower only falls if the sun rises without a living challenger inside the tower. The sun’s already up, so there’s a full day for someone to enter the tower and keep it in the air.” Ardam blushed, he actually had heard all this before, but the panic of the morning had erased this common knowledge from his head.

“So it’s all true then? Somebody has to get to the top of the tower, or it will crush Lorn?” He asked, even though he knew the answer. He figured he should ask something new. “If this is all outside the barrier, then why are you heading towards it?” He could only see half her face as they rowed, enough to see that she was still smiling. However, it took on an edge as sharp as any blade as she looked at the floating mass of stone.

“I have business in that tower.” She said, and went quiet.

The two got to the other bank, where some panicked looking people rushed them, intent on taking the boat. The adventurer pulled out her mace and brandished it towards them, and they seemed to decide that rowing a boat was easier without a split skull. The moment the two were standing on the bank and moved away, a fight broke out over the boat. The brunette continued on without looking back. The road to Lorn was more of the same. People who had been outside the barrier moving away in a frenzy. Broken carts and more than a few bodies lying still along the way. Ardam’s eyes kept looking through the crowd, hoping to see his sister, looking for the little bright ribbon she always wore around one ear. It was all he could do to keep pace with the woman who never once broke stride in her march to the tower. The bulk of the trip behind them, it didn’t take long to see what the adventurer had been talking about. A shimmering wall of magical energy formed a clear line around the large valley that contained the great city of Lorn.

“Ah, looks like it’s started already.” The woman ahead said. Ardam didn’t even have to ask what she meant as he saw the horrible sight of a riot happening against the barrier. People trying to get out pressing forward in a crushing mass. More than a few people in the front row were completely still, crushed to death by the panicking crowd behind them. It took more than a little effort for Ardam to swallow his shock at the horrid scene. He looked over at his impromptu companion. Her smile was still on her face, but it was the kind of sad smile one made when watching a child fall after warning it that it would. A sympathetic empathy, paired with an understanding that this was inevitable.

“So… how do we get in?” Ardam said eventually. It surprised him. He had witnessed more death and suffering today than the rest of his life combined, but he still felt the need to help Eisha. He could never live with himself if he abandoned her to the whims of the floating stone tower that loomed impossibly large in his view. The adventurer was looking at him with a new smile on her face. Her brown eyes sparkling in the morning light as they took him in with newfound approval. After a moment, the expression faded, replaced with a more neutral smile as she replied.

“Fuck if I know.” She said with a theatrical shrug. “I’ve never been on this side of it before.”

***

It took half the day for the press of people to realize the futility. Ardam had paced back and forth across the barrier, looking for his sister, and hoping he didn’t see her. The adventurer had stopped him, dragging him away to a distance away from the carnage.

“Best not to dwell on it. You really wouldn’t want to see who you’re looking for in that mess anyway.” Ardam hated doing nothing, but couldn’t argue the wisdom of what she was saying. The two sat in the shade, waiting for the crowd to break. “So who’s in there? Girlfriend? Family? You marry young maybe?” The adventurer asked.

“My younger sister.” Ardam replied. He felt drained, having come so close to just sit and wait now.

“Ah. The one that looked like you from yesterday. She looked like the type that can handle herself. I’d tell you not to worry but…” She waved at the tower floating like a executioner’s axe above.

“Why do you seem so unbothered?” Ardam couldn’t help but ask. He winced as soon as he said it, the words had come out like an accusation. If what he’d heard and she’d alluded to were correct, then he was salting a wound. He had tried to use the words to fill the space instead of his worries, but she was here trying to get in to a place of peril the same as him. She must have good reasons.

“Because being bothered wouldn’t help.” She answered, leaning back in the grass and looking at a cloud wrapping itself around the floating stone. “I know what’s bound to happen, what could happen, and what I’m going to do about it. Don’t you?”

Ardam looked at her in a bit of confusion. He actually hadn’t thought that far ahead. He’d been running on instinct since the tower had forced him out of bed with the dread of its arrival. Now that he had a moment, he looked at the tower. Really looked at it, thinking about it for the first time. He looked at the shimmering barrier as well. If what she was saying was true, he could get in and look for Eisha, but getting out again was impossible. Unless the tower was challenged and beaten. He could hope someone else did it, but the moment that thought crossed his mind a wave of sheer revulsion at the thought of rolling over for fate after all this threw the idea back the way it had come.

“Yeah… I guess I do.” He said back. The two sat quietly for a few moments. “I’m Ardam. Ardam Thanedor. Thanks for everything today.”

“Thæry Broogan. Don’t thank me yet. The day isn’t over, and from everything I’ve heard, most people don’t make it past the first floor.” She replied, smiling all the while as if she hadn’t just portended their own demise. Ardam couldn’t help but smile back, a gallows smile if there ever was one. He found himself strangely calm as he took the hand she was offering and clasped it. He had made his decision, same as her, and it was actually reassuring to have someone heading in the same direction.

#fantasy #solo rpg #solo roleplaying #fabula ultima

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carp0nastick · 27 days ago

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Heaven's Gavel Pt.1

The following is a log of a solo RP game.

The Legend

It has earned many names over the centuries, as is only inevitable for such a thing. The great tower floating in the sky that we call Heaven’s Gavel has judged those on mother Rhol for as long as any living thing can remember. Without a chance for anyone to run, the tower appears overhead, casting a barrier that traps those beneath within the deadly challenge. An obelisk directly beneath the flying fortress gives the rules of judgement: None may leave the tower’s judgement. Anyone may challenge the tower by touching the obelisk. Should the sun rise without a living challenger within the tower, the stone shall fall. Should a challenger reach the crystal at the top, the tower shall be banished. Such it is that the history of Rhol is written around which kingdoms have survived, and which have perished under Heaven’s Gavel.

The Farmboy

“Enough, Ardam! I yield!” A youth said as he staggered backwards across the training yard. While the young man who had surrendered was gasping for breath, the one who had bested him stood calm and composed. After a few moments of maintaining a stance still ready to fight, he let out a huffing breath of satisfaction. The two lowered their blunt training swords and made way for the next pair of militiamen to spar. The victor of the training bout was a fit specimen, even for the generally strong race of Equinaris to which he belonged. Built out of the muscles only hard work in a field could forge, Ardam Thanedor stood tall under his messy shock of black hair. The horselike ears on the top of his head rotated to face his fellow militiaman, as his tail flicked to the side, a sign he was pleased with the outcome of the bout for those that knew him well enough to see it. Ardam’s bright blue eyes, the only trait he had inherited from his mother sparkled with youthful delight as he afforded himself a chance to tease his friend.

“Come on Bargit, we’ve barely even started. How can you be breathing like your father’s bellows already?” Ardam asked the blacksmith’s son, “You can’t possibly be finding time to slack off without bringing me along can you?”

“As if. My old man has decided it’s time to get serious about my apprenticeship and has been working me harder than usual. Not that it matters here. You’re just too good with a sword.” The blacksmith’s apprentice complained. “Well he’d better be,” A voice chimed in from across the fence separating the practice yard from the road around the square of Kelb village, “A swordsmanship instructor wouldn’t stand for it if his son wasn’t the best.” The young Equinaris woman bearing a strong resemblance to her brother said. She was leaning lazily in the yoke of the cart the Thanedors used to sell their wheat to the nearby city of Lorn. “Hey Eisha. Your turn to take the goods to market huh? Don’t you let those city boys give you the runaround… or hit on you.” Bargit said as he finally caught his breath.

“After all the bruises Ardam left behind last time? They’d have to be nuts.” Eisha said, smiling at her overprotective brother. “Besides, he’s not the only one dad taught how to fight.” She said, patting the rapier at her hip. Ardam furrowed his brow in concern.

“Maybe I should still come with you…” He said, but stopped when he saw Eisha’s expression fall flat.

“Man, I wish I could have the confidence you guys have. Maybe if my father was a former man at arms and not a metal pounding hardass…” “Well I’m sorry your father likes pounding metal.” Came a gruff voice from behind as the village blacksmith laid his arm across his son’s shoulders. “Maybe I should teach you the joys of metal clanging against metal, on the practice yard.” Ardam and Eisha both winced in sympathy as the burly blacksmith hauled their friend back to the practice field for what was certain to be a rather rough bout.

“You’re sure you don’t need some help? It’s faster with two of us pulling.” Ardam asked. Eisha made a shooing motion with her hand in reply.

“I’ll be fine you big lummox. You keep playing soldier and impressing the ladies.” She said, indicating the other side of the training yard. An auburn haired human woman was leaning against the fence watching him though bright brown eyes with a grin on her face. The woman was as tall as most of the men on the practice field, and dressed much rougher than any. A mail shirt covered by a green tunic over her torso, while her hands and feet wore rugged leather gloves and boots. On her back was a round shield, and at her side was a mace, both showing signs of use. Ardam flicked his ear quizzically. “Oh her? You kidding? Look at what she’s got on her. She’s gotta be some adventurer. Nobody who lives off fighting like that’s going to impressed with some militiamen scrapping.” Ardam said.

“... So you’ve been checking her out.” Eisha said with a teasing lilt to her voice as she poked her brother in the side. Ardam blushed, though whether out of embarrassment of his wandering eyes or frustration at falling for his sister’s trap was unclear.

“I’d advise against it.” Another voice broke in. “That’s the Hammer of Barstan over there.” The innkeeper's wife said as she walked by with ingredients for the Inn’s meals..

“The what?” The siblings said together, their ears flicking with interest.

“She’s famous. The only survivor of the judgement of Barstan. Ever since the tower fell on her home six years ago, she’s been working as an adventurer and mercenary. They say that smile never leaves her face, even when she’s caving some poor sod’s head in with that mace. So keep your eyes where they belong young man.” The old busybody said.

“Wait, people can survive judgements?” Eisha asked. The older woman shifted the weight of what she was carrying, a little encumbrance no issue when there was an ear to funnel gossip into.

“It’s happened, but it’s not something I’d bet on. Barstan was a city of millions they say. Now she’s the only Barstanner left. I hear a few people called her a liar early on, and they’re the ones who got their heads knocked in to give her that nickname. So who’s to say? Certainly not someone who likes having their brains where their mother put them.”

Ardam kept his ears pointed at the woman as she spoke, but turned his head back to the adventurer. She certainly looked the part of a famous adventurer that would have stories told about her, but why the smile with a past as tragic as that? It looked like his curiosity would go unanswered, as the adventurer apparently lost interest and began to walk away.

With a bit more gossip from the innkeeper's wife delaying their chores, the siblings eventually got away. Ardam waved goodbye to Eisha as she left on the quarter day trip to Lorn. She’d sell the majority of their goods to the inn where she’d also stay the rest of the day and night selling what was left around town. It wasn’t the first time Eisha had performed this chore for the family, but it was close to it. Ardam couldn’t help his brotherly concern at letting his younger sister go into the city alone, but knew just as much that she could handle herself.

After practice with the local militia ended, Ardam went through his familiar routines. He plowed the field that had just been harvested, pulling the plow along as his mother guided the tiller through the soil. He chopped wood with his father, sowed more seeds in the second field, and before dinner went through a second sword lesson in his father’s teaching hall.

“You’ve gotten a lot better.” The scarred veteran said as they cleaned up for dinner. “At least you’re better than I was when I went off to war.” Ardam wasn’t sure why, but his mind wandered back to the smiling adventurer from earlier.

“Dad… what made you decide to fight for a living?” Ardam asked. He saw his father’s tail flick upwards. The question had upset him. There was a silence between them that stretched long enough that Ardam was about to retract his question, but his father eventually spoke.

“There was a big drought in Torum village where I came from. I was the fifth child. Another mouth to feed when there wasn’t any food to be had. Being young and stupid enough to believe nothing could hurt me didn’t help things along. When the king’s recruiters came by, I jumped at the chance. A lot of the boys in Torum did. Nobody else who joined up with me that day is still alive. Only I made it. During the war, my hometown was razed to the ground. So I could very well be the only person from Torum left.” Ardam had never heard this story before. Whenever he’d asked if there was more family out there, his father had always deferred to his mother’s side and said that his relatives were “gone.”

“...Do you regret it?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Do I regret living through it all, meeting your mother and having a wonderful home with two children I’m proud of? Not at all… Some days though, I can’t help but wonder why I’m the one that lived. Why I get to be happy when so many people didn’t. But that’s life. Some people die of hunger in a drought, some die in war, whole cities get wiped out when the tower judges places, and some people survive. It’s our job to live for those who didn’t. To smile where they can’t, and to protect that smile with everything you have, because you know how hard it is to earn.”

The two sat in silence for a while. Ardam absorbing the wisdom of his father’s words. His father mulling over thoughts he hadn’t in a long time. Eventually the two stood up and went to a dinner that was strangely quiet with a family member missing. At least, it was quiet until Ardam’s father asked. “So, who’s the girl you’re thinking of joining the army to impress?”

***

Ardam wasn’t sure what woke him up. The moment his eyes flipped open, he knew something was wrong. Some horrid feeling in his chest, that almost made him panic as he rose in the pre-dawn dark. His hands moved in the dark with automatic precision, pulling on his pants and lacing his boots. The instinctual movement made him reach for his militiaman’s toughened tunic instead of his normal one. His swordbelt and gloves came on next, something driving him to be prepared while still knowing nothing about why he felt this distress. As he stepped from his room into the hallway, he could hear his father and mother moving as well. His father likewise carrying his sword as the family moved to the door. Even through the sure movement of his feet, Ardam could feel a rising panic in his core. The dread of what he would see when he opened the door and looked outside threatened to overwhelm him, but his body continued to carry him to behold it anyway.

He pushed open the door and his terror was made real. In the sky, the few morning stars that should have remained were missing. The sky on the horizon was the wrong color as well. Something occupied the once familiar view, something foreign and wrong. His mind slowly, as if resisting the idea, began to tell his soul the truth. As the first rays of sunlight caught the top of the horrid gray stone, shining brightly off the surface as if to declare it’s judgement had begun, Ardam took in the unmistakable sight of Heaven’s Gavel hovering in the skies above Lorn.

#fantasy #solo rpg #solo roleplaying #fabula ultima

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