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The Wounded King
Forty years have passed since Ranthos conquered the known lands. He was the last king of men, wise beyond his years, ambitious beyond his limits. With an army unnumbered he marched across Deluvian, and forged the greatest empire ever known.
Legend speaks of the sacred items he carried on his crusade - artefacts which turned the course of battles and the fortunes of kingdoms. They were called the Wounds, five in all, and it is said King Ranthos earned them upon his journey through valiant trials, cunning tricks and divine pacts. With the Five Wounds no living creature could stand in his way.
And it is said that he reached the end of the world, walking on as his army fell to exhaustion, and that he alone made it where none have ventured - to the shores of the Hollow Sea.
And what befell him there was madness, absolute and irretrievable. Some say that bearing the Five Wounds was too great for any mortal, or that the spirits he confided in tore his mind apart. Still others say it was the Hollow Sea itself which sucked out his very soul.
With his sanity in tatters, King Ranthos ran wild through his own kingdom, eluding his generals and governors. What steered his course it will never be known, but in every land he had conquered, from heartland to desert, from mountain to forest, he was sighted - a hermit in rags, a fool on horseback, a vagrant in the streets. As madness consumed him he cast away each of his artefacts, dropping the Five Wounds, passing them away, burying them.
And then, before a thousand witnesses, Ranthos was seen in the streets of Argeria, naked and screaming at the skies, before he crumpled into dust.
The Wounded King was no more.
His bloodline died with him, in the space of forty days. His wife, his heirs, his cousins and kin - each met with separate tragedies. Deluvian was sorrowed and the Age of the Crown came to an end.
Now, forty years have passed and the lands are carved between the generals, vassals and opportunists who once served the king. It is as if the Empire never was.
But some still remember... some still recall the Legend of the Wounded King... and the Five Weapons that brought the world to its knees. Some still work, in the ceaseless dark, to follow the tracks of Mad Ranthos and study the sagas of his deeds. Some still believe. Some still hope.
And today, in the town of Argeria, at the foothills of the Westwall Mountains, the 40th Festival of Fools will be held in memory of the King's passing.
And the greatest adventure ever told will begin...
Forty years have passed since Ranthos conquered the known lands. He was the last king of men, wise beyond his years, ambitious beyond his limits. With an army unnumbered he marched across Deluvian, and forged the greatest empire ever known.
Legend speaks of the sacred items he carried on his crusade - artefacts which turned the course of battles and the fortunes of kingdoms. They were called the Wounds, five in all, and it is said King Ranthos earned them upon his journey through valiant trials, cunning tricks and divine pacts. With the Five Wounds no living creature could stand in his way.
And it is said that he reached the end of the world, walking on as his army fell to exhaustion, and that he alone made it where none have ventured - to the shores of the Hollow Sea.
And what befell him there was madness, absolute and irretrievable. Some say that bearing the Five Wounds was too great for any mortal, or that the spirits he confided in tore his mind apart. Still others say it was the Hollow Sea itself which sucked out his very soul.
With his sanity in tatters, King Ranthos ran wild through his own kingdom, eluding his generals and governors. What steered his course it will never be known, but in every land he had conquered, from heartland to desert, from mountain to forest, he was sighted - a hermit in rags, a fool on horseback, a vagrant in the streets. As madness consumed him he cast away each of his artefacts, dropping the Five Wounds, passing them away, burying them.
And then, before a thousand witnesses, Ranthos was seen in the streets of Argeria, naked and screaming at the skies, before he crumpled into dust.
The Wounded King was no more.
His bloodline died with him, in the space of forty days. His wife, his heirs, his cousins and kin - each met with separate tragedies. Deluvian was sorrowed and the Age of the Crown came to an end.
Now, forty years have passed and the lands are carved between the generals, vassals and opportunists who once served the king. It is as if the Empire never was.
But some still remember... some still recall the Legend of the Wounded King... and the Five Weapons that brought the world to its knees. Some still work, in the ceaseless dark, to follow the tracks of Mad Ranthos and study the sagas of his deeds. Some still believe. Some still hope.
And today, in the town of Argeria, at the foothills of the Westwall Mountains, the 40th Festival of Fools will be held in memory of the King's passing.
And the greatest adventure ever told will begin...
<table align=center><tr><td><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/masked_crown_of_the_unknown_king_by_osbornearts-d4j5171.jpg width="150" height="223"><td>
Said to enhance the powers of deception, stealth and trickery. It has blades around the eye-slits that pierce the skin when placed on the face. Once placed, it takes a form that reflects the wearer's soul. When wearing the mask you are blind and deaf to what is behind you. With continued use its removal will risk tearing the skin from your face.
<tr><td><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/FighterBracer3_Lg.jpg width="150"><td>
A wrist sheath said to glow with elemental runes. It pierces the wrist once secured, fusing with the veins. When taught the proper gestures of the fingers, a wielder can channel one of the four elements into whatever shape the hand desires. The faster the casting, the more exhausting the effects. With continued use its removal will risk heavy blood loss.
<tr><td><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/Holy_Sword_by_hgjart.jpg width="150"><td>
Reputed as the holiest of all swords, forged in celestial light. This is the sword of the rightful king, divinely sharp and unbreakable. All darkness is put to flight, all evil is vanquished, all men are subjugated in its sight. The hilt is thorned, meaning severe pain to grip it. The pain will increase tenfold if ever the sword is wielded against the innocent or undeserving. With continued use its removal will risk infection of the blood.
<tr><td><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/velvet-glove-iron-fist.jpg width="150"><td>
A velvet glove that gives the initial sensation of burning to any who wear it. The glove is said to be enchanted, and any who are touched by it will fall under the charms of the wearer. This will range from subservience to obsessive love. The glove, however, makes the body frail, prone to disease, cold and exhaustion. With continued use its removal will risk corrosion of the hand.
<tr><td><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/0900374620cape20long20fantasy20black20various20fabrics.jpg width="150"><td>
Said to offer total protection against all weapons, weather and elements. The cloak is fastened by a brooch that pierces the throat, so the wearer cannot utter a single sound from his lungs. If one can pull the robe open then the wearer can be slain, so protection depends on the wearer keeping the robe shut tight. With continued use its removal will risk permanent respiratory damage. </table>
The Mask of Velgovis
Said to enhance the powers of deception, stealth and trickery. It has blades around the eye-slits that pierce the skin when placed on the face. Once placed, it takes a form that reflects the wearer's soul. When wearing the mask you are blind and deaf to what is behind you. With continued use its removal will risk tearing the skin from your face.
<tr><td><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/FighterBracer3_Lg.jpg width="150"><td>
The Vambrace of Larn
A wrist sheath said to glow with elemental runes. It pierces the wrist once secured, fusing with the veins. When taught the proper gestures of the fingers, a wielder can channel one of the four elements into whatever shape the hand desires. The faster the casting, the more exhausting the effects. With continued use its removal will risk heavy blood loss.
<tr><td><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/Holy_Sword_by_hgjart.jpg width="150"><td>
The Sword of Haladayne
Reputed as the holiest of all swords, forged in celestial light. This is the sword of the rightful king, divinely sharp and unbreakable. All darkness is put to flight, all evil is vanquished, all men are subjugated in its sight. The hilt is thorned, meaning severe pain to grip it. The pain will increase tenfold if ever the sword is wielded against the innocent or undeserving. With continued use its removal will risk infection of the blood.
<tr><td><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/velvet-glove-iron-fist.jpg width="150"><td>
The Hand of Iaisen
A velvet glove that gives the initial sensation of burning to any who wear it. The glove is said to be enchanted, and any who are touched by it will fall under the charms of the wearer. This will range from subservience to obsessive love. The glove, however, makes the body frail, prone to disease, cold and exhaustion. With continued use its removal will risk corrosion of the hand.
<tr><td><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/0900374620cape20long20fantasy20black20various20fabrics.jpg width="150"><td>
The Cloak of Tunridge
Said to offer total protection against all weapons, weather and elements. The cloak is fastened by a brooch that pierces the throat, so the wearer cannot utter a single sound from his lungs. If one can pull the robe open then the wearer can be slain, so protection depends on the wearer keeping the robe shut tight. With continued use its removal will risk permanent respiratory damage. </table>