In movies, television, and
novels there are often story elements or plot points of which
the main characters are not aware. But, these plot points add
depth, interest, description, and even irony to the story.
They are a necessary part of storytelling, in most
cases.
Role-Playing Games tend to focus on the story
immediately surrounding the main characters...the player
characters. But, for a truly dramatic and interesting
story, sometimes you have to know about the
movements, emotions, goals, and adventures of characters other
than the main characters.
These stories do not
directly affect or involve the main characters, but the
events and characters depicted in these side-stories will play
a role in the overall storyline. They contain
player-knowledge and not
character-knowledge.
For Story Depth...
"Javair in a Painting"
The Bard sat across the heavy table from the old
bearded Sage. He was laughing, and it was clear the two of them were
talking about old times. Shared stories that no one else would
probably understand. They were in a large Hall, and the lack of
flagging or joints in the stone walls and floor suggested it was carved
out of solid rock. The fireplace at the far end of the room was dark
and cold, and nothing stirred except the two men...and all was silence
except their conversation and laughter. There were tapestries
hanging here and there, and a few large paintings as well. One
painting was of a round stone room with many large paintings depicted as
hanging on the walls of the room. One painting was of a
well-outfitted cabin on a sailing vessel, with many maps and charts
depicted spread across a large table. One painting was odd, in that
it seemed to depict the inside of a large tent, the floors covered in furs
and many weapons.
The Bard held an ancient harp, and
occasionally ran his hand across its strings absent-mindedly making
beautiful sounds. The old sage spoke. “That’s Dutton Hobb’s
harp you’ve got with you. Where’s the other harp...the one that
causes so much trouble?”
Javair seemed hesitant to answer,
but then thought better of it and shrugged. “The other harp is in a
safe place. It is a dangerous thing. Too dangerous. I
prefer this old harp. It fits me. It feels at home in my
hands. It was made for me.”
Molene shook his head,
causing his beard to swing back and forth. “No, it wasn’t
Javair. It was made for Dutton Hobbs. You are simply the
latest to possess it and play it.”
Javair had a surprised
look on his face, like he had caught Molene being foolish. “You know
better, old man. It was made for me...just as much as it was made
for Dutton. Almost 600 years old, and just as good as the first day
it was played.”
Molene smiled. “True. True.
Tell me whatever happened to that Vikos fellow you used to get into
trouble with. Vikos Stormbringer. What ever happened to
him?”
Javair shook his head, and laughed so hard his eyes
watered. “Oh, man...why do you have to bring him up? I haven’t
seen him in decades. Whatever made me hang out that crazy
half-elf? Absolute crazy, through and through.” Now both of
them laughed. “After he and I closed the Storm Gates...he spent a
few days here at the Azure Keep, and then he was gone. Left the
volunteer orc army he had built to fight the war against the Giants...left
his friends...left the world of men, I’m afraid. I checked up on him
of course over the years...and he spends most of his time protecting the
Forest of the Ancients. The good-hearted pass through that forest
unharmed...the rest never come out the other side. I’m sure the
years as a hermit have only made him less stable, I’m
afraid.”
Molene nodded. “At least he didn’t go the way
of Bala the Butcher. Vikos wielded that magical axe, and escaped its
curse. He found another way. We can admire him for that.
And the role he played in fighting the Frost Giants back from the
Gate.”
Javair nodded. “He was absolutely the most
difficult man I’ve ever dealt with. And he was my friend. As
horrible as it was at times to adventure with him, if he showed up here
tonight with some crazy plan to raid a lich’s tomb...or to kidnap SHE
herself...I would go. May the Gods damn me, I would strap on my
bracers, oil up the Sword of Dorlinon Fi, and crawl through some horrid
dungeon with him. He was my friend.”
Molene looked off
into the darkness as Javair spoke, feeling the emotion in his voice.
“Javair...you would have made a very good king. You were for a
time. You should have stayed a very good king. The Azure
Kingdom needed a man in charge like you. A man with heart...and
fairness at his core. Galen Green does a passing job at it in your
stead. But, this Keep is yours...this land is yours...these people
are yours.”
Javair was a bit surprised at Molene’s words, and
didn’t try to hid the expression on his face. “Galen Green does a
fine job. And the Kingdom doesn’t really need me anymore.
There is peace, and with the closing of the Storm Gates there has been
warmth, and life, and plenty. If the Kingdom ever needs me
again...I’ll return. But for now...I have other things that I need
to attend to. Important things.”
Molene scoffed.
“Bah! Your search for Jack Skull? Look at you...a damned
pirate these days. Traveling around with a motley group of criminals
seaching for a skull-headed socio-path. That is important to
you?”
Javair took a scolding tone. “You know more than
your words would witness to, Molene. Jack Skull is not a
socio-path.” Javair paused. “Well, he is a socio-path...that
part is true. But, he is more than that. He was also my
friend. He was the Captain of my guard. He was the head of my
armies during the war against the Frost Giants. I’ve known him for
most of my life. And despite all his faults...where ever...and
whenever I have needed him...he’s been there for me. The first time
I saw him, he the Captain of a ship that was attacking us on the high
seas. Then he stole the treasure of a lich right out from under
us. But, ever since Vikos and I saved him from the dungeons of Sir
James the Mad...he has shown a loyalty to me that has known no
bounds.”
Molene attempted to interrupt, but Javair continued
right over the top of his words. “What sort of man would I be, if I
did not return that loyalty? What sort of king could I be, if I
cared so little for one of my closest friends? When I say that I am
attending to important business, you would do best not to question my
judgement, Sage.”
Molene softened his approach. “My
apologies. I am your friend as well, and I worry about you. We
both have the wisdom of years and experience, but I’ve committed the most
grievous sin a wise man can commit. I believed myself wiser than I
am. I stand corrected...and defer to your judgement. It is
your life, and your honor. You tend to your honor as you feel is
best, and I support you. Find that skull-faced bastard, whatever it
takes.”
Javair’s anger faded. “Fair enough,
Molene. This is something I must do. Trust me. I have
this nagging feeling that everything rides on me finding him. I
don’t know why...but there is a gravity to this situation that goes beyond
my personal loyalty and honor.”
“I do trust you. I’ve
trusted you from the start.”
Javair smiled.
“Good.”
Molene leaned forward a bit, putting his hands on the
table to support himself. There were paint speckles and splatters
upon his old wrinkled hands. “Tell me more of this young group of
adventurers you ran into. You admired them, didn’t
you?”
Javair leaned back in his chair. “Admired
them? Yes. And I’m jealous of them as well! You should
have seen how young they were. There is one among them that is
half-dragon. Half-dragon...can you believe such a thing. And on top
of it all, he is a bard. He has this spirit about him. A
joyous spirit. We will see great things from him over the coming
years. He will tell great tales, and play a role in the making of
history. You mark my words and remember his name, Sage. They
call him Valatude.”
“Then there’s the girl. A wild
girl...reportedly raised by bears. She has long curly dirty blond
hair that is always in tangles, and for someone who claims to be
distrustful of others...she has this amazing way with people. There
is a strength there...and a warmth, that wins people over to her
side. She worships nature, and nature gives her powers in
return. She too will play a role in events to come that will not
soon be forgotten. They call her Valabraun.”
“And the
last of the small party...Amon. He’s a roguish figure if you ever
saw one. Cocky, and greedy, and fearless. He tried to steal my
ship single-handedly! I suppose I deserved it. He interrupted
one of my stories in the Placid Waters tavern and tried to pick-pocket me,
so I used my Ring to influence him and made him stand in a corner like a
petulant child for an hour. From that point on he decided he would
have his revenge upon me, and I’ve had quite a bit of fun foiling his
plans against me. Perhaps one of these days I’ll win him over...but
I’m not counting on it.”
Molene was looking a bit tired, but
he seemed to enjoy Javair’s description of the young party of
adventurers. “I met this Amon...right after he tried to steal your
ship!”
Javair looked suspicious. “You didn’t mention
this before?”
Molene smiled. “I have my secrets.
Plus, the boy was very injured...and barely managed to swim to my
lighthouse in the bay there at Wather. I patched him up, fed him,
and gave him a bit of advice. He has the potential to be a good
man. But, I’m afraid he has a long way to go. His greed and
arrogance runs deep.”
The Bard ran his hand across his harp
thoughtlessly again, making a beautiful sound. “Well, hopefully
he’ll mature a bit, before the world swallows him up.”
“I
hope so as well. Javair...I appreciate our time together now and
again. I must go though my friend. I’m old...and I’m weary. I
must get back to my work.”
Javair stood and escorted Molene
by the arm to the painting of the round room with all the paintings
depicted on it walls. “Until the next time, old
friend.”
“Until the next time,” and with that Molene stepped
through and into the painting. Instead of being an empty round room
lined with paintings, the painting now featured an old bearded sage in the
room. The paint that depicted the Sage was fluid and moving, and one
could watch the painting change as the Sage moved across the room and
stepped into one of the paintings depicted there.
Javair took
one last look around his empty Hall, and stood next to the large painting
of the ship’s cabin. “I’ll be back when it is time. I’ll be
back when my work is done. There will be feasts here again...and
politics...and deal-making.” Javair smiled and stepped into the
painting, returning to his cabin on the White Queen.
Behind
him on the cabin’s wall was a large painting of stone hall, with a long
sturdy table, and a dark cold fireplace. “Meepo! Where are
you? Bring me some brandy, would
you?”
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Remember, these stories are to add depth to the storyline. They represent player-knowledge, not character-knowledge. This story was written to add depth to the Crimson Coast campain.
