Swords of Legend

Copied from RKDN’s Kickstarter page for The Reliquary

I recently backed the kickstarter by RKDN Studios for their project The Reliquary.   I have recently gotten addicted to kickstarter (KS) since  Repear Mini’s Bones project.  Now back to The Reliquary, it started out as just a book for items, weapons, and armor with power and twists.  The KS has grown, as they all do, to include a lot of extras.  I got in at the Master Artificer level but ended up moving up to Druid, with an add on of a PDF of a previous RKDN KS project of the Bestiary (really for $15 what GM can pass up more monsters to slaughter PCs with).

I am excited to delve into extras that come with this KS, and I eagerly await my copy of the Reliquary to see all the twisted and dark submissions and designs.  I am going to reach out to an artist friend of mine to see if he would help me with a sketch of Vladic that I can submit.

I currently working on stating out my item for submission but I through together my fluff and background for my PC/NPC.  I toiled as to which loved and cherished PC to have missed into one of projects, my first PC “Raven” Dharen Silverarrow elven ranger, or the short lived Raskin Telladar apprentice to Elminster, or Willie the drunken master monk (molded after Grounds Keeper Willie from the Simpsons) and his war wagon, or one of my favorite dwarves.  I ended up choosing Vladic Thunderclap, and his mighty sword Orcblight.

So without further ado here is his story:

Vladic Thunderclap the Orc Slayer
Lord of the High Counsel of the North
Dwarven Fighter male LN

Vladic came into this world as most dwarves, kicking, screaming, and a little drunk (really what dwarven mother doesn’t keep drinking through pregnancy).  His childhood was that of any other dwarf of his tribe, spent toiling in the mines and at the forges.  The Orcs and the Dwarves feuded for generations as they always do.  Vladic was no different, he quickly proved himself in combat against the smelly green pig-folk.  His lust for their screams and blood grew with each battle almost as much for his thirst for a good dwarven ale.  He cared not for trying to unify the dwarven tribes against the orcish threat.

One night while stumbling through the outskirts of his village in a drunken stupor he heard the alarm horns bellowing in the distance.  He stumbled towards the town ready for battle but not for the steel hoe on the ground.  It was a fateful misstep and the last he would make.  For as the handle of the hoe rocketed up from the ground towards his face it would change two things forever, first the alignment of his nose, and the fate of the dwarven tribes of the north. He tumbled down the side of the mountain, slowing only slightly when he smashed through the planks of the abandoned mine shift long since forgotten.

He came to sore, hungover, and at the bottom of the old mine shaft.  As his vision went from blurry to normal he could see what lay before him the most pure vein of Mithral he had ever seen.  Now was not the time for the ore his village was under attack, after climbing for what seemed like hours he reached the top.  When he crested the rise of the mountain he saw his village laying in ash, and his tribe mates slaughtered.  He had spent days in the bottom of the shaft, angry with himself and what he now saw before him he vowed to change his chaotic and drunken ways.  He spent a day gathering their bodies and placing them in the great forge.  He stoked the fires of the great forge and the funeral fire in the forge burned for days.  While the bodies burned, and his shock from sobering up for the first time in thirty years he went back the mine shaft.  He harvested the small vein of Mithral and he spent days forging the tool of his revenge.

When he was done he had crafted the finest Dwarven Greatsword the world had ever seen.  It it had a feint eerie green glow.  He gathered his armor, his new sword Orc-Blight, some supplies and set out for the nearest dwarven village.  Village after village rebuffed he request for unification and war with the orc. After a year of refusals he set out on his own for war, and he would find it.  He encountered a small dwarven patrol on the outskirts of an orc village, they refused to ride down with him into battle so he went alone.  The patrol sat and watched as he rode down and went to war alone.  They watched for an hour as he fought and killed them all but a weak old female and the children.  He sent her off in a cart with children and told her to spread the word that he is coming for them all.  This same story played out village after village and his legend grew among both the orcs and the dwarves.

He returned to a dwarven village for resupply, and found turmoil.  The village was spilt in support of him and it lord.  The lord refused to let the militia go with him despite their urgings.  Vladic knew what must be done, he gave the Lord on chance to swear fealty to him, when he refused Vladic slew him and took control for himself.  This would play out in dwarven village after village some would accept his terms and others would die by Orcblight’s blade.  His war would rage for more than a decade till the orcs of the north were no more and he had unified the tribes.

He brought order, peace, and prosperity to the dwarves of the north for decades.  As he could feel the fire of his life forge starting to burn colder he oversaw the appointment of a new Lord of the high counsel gathered his armor, Orcblight, and some personal belongings.  He quietly slipped away from his kingdom to embark on his last ride.  As any great dwarven warrior he wishes to die in battle, fighting the enemy he long ago destroyed.  Occasionally stories will surface of an old grizzled dwarf with a crooked nose riding to some small villages aid, though it never mentions the greatsowrd that glows green.