Prelude to Glory I

By Ralsu



Prior to taking the position of Assistant Community Manager for DDO Ten
Ton Hammer, I was a contestant in a contest hosted by Ten Ton Hammer to
give away a free copy of DDO.

The contest required writers to submit a
piece of creative fiction not to exceed 1,000 words. We also had to
pull out a snippet of 100 words or less and post in the forums. Not
only were our wirting skills being tested, but we were being asked to
market our stories to readers via a measly 100 words!



I submitted three entries in all before DDO Ten Ton Hammer Community
Manager Karen "Shayalyn" Hertzberg contacted me about doing some
volunteer writing for the website. Once I had become a volunteer
writer, Shayalyn and I agreed that I should withdraw my entries from
the contest. href="http://ddo.tentonhammer.com/index.php?module=ContentExpress&func=display&ceid=48">Richard
Davey and Andrew Ferguson went on to win the contest. I got to
flash a little creative writing in the href="http://ddo.tentonhammer.com/index.php?module=ContentExpress&func=display&ceid=65">Stormreach:
Quest for Glory, chronicling the adventures of Ralsu and Shayalyn
in the DDO beta.



Now for the first time, we release one of the contest submissions for
public display, starting with some letters exchanged between Ralsu and
a man named Nealgig prior to Ralsu's departure for Stormreach. Enjoy!

---

Dearest Aruthra,



Your letter arrived this morning, and I am writing to you as Aunt Lilga
prepares the game I killed today.



The man you asked about, Ralsu Vejes, is indeed from these parts as he
claims. I would send my sympathies, but I'm convinced that not even
Tira Miron could help you if Ralsu's staying in your inn. Troubles and
sorrow follow wherever that man goes. Oh, it's not that he is bad—well,
I'll just tell you his story and say a prayer that my missive reaches
you before Ralsu ruins your life.



href="http://ddo.tentonhammer.com/modules.php?set_albumName=Exclusive_Screenshots&id=Ralsu_standing&op=modload&name=Gallery&file=index&include=view_photo.php"> alt="Ralsu standing"
src="http://ddo.tentonhammer.com/files/gallery/albums/Exclusive_Screenshots/Ralsu_standing.thumb.jpg"
style="border: 2px solid ; width: 66px; height: 150px;" align="left">Anyone
who meets Ralsu Vejes is sure to feel conflicted between being drawn to
him and wanting to whack him with the flat side of a sword. At a
glance, he is an unremarkable man of average weight and height, light
skin, and a clean complexion. His eyes and ears line up absolutely, so
as to make them completely forgettable. Ralsu's nose is neither so big
that it defines his face nor shaped in an abnormal way. His hair is
light but purely brown, lacking any variation that would stand out in
the mind. His eyes are green but not penetratingly so. The man's
average jaw contains more or less healthy teeth. It is entirely
possible to see Ralsu and soon forget him—unless he talks.



Aru, I swear on my mother's grave, Ralsu could talk the Dark Six into
making quilts for the homeless or infuriate the Sovereign Host to the
point of murdering babies! Oh, I can't explain it in writing, but I'm
sure you've had a bit of experience with this by now. The man just has
a way with words. In fact, that's just about all he cares about. If
Ralsu Vejes is talking to you, it's because he thinks you can help him
acquire some obscure bit of knowledge—some key to the lore of our land
prior to the war.



Oh anyway, Ralsu's mother was a young and inexperienced cleric at the
fortress where the Silver Flame make their home in this area. I can't
even remember the poor girl's name now. She was investigating some
demon sightings out in the forest beyond Old Brimey's hut. It wasn't
Brimey who'd seen the demons but a farmer's children. The church
ministry didn't trust the tales of peasant children enough to send a
fully trained group, so they sent only Ralsu's mother and a pair of
paladins.



As the story goes, a band of brigands ambushed the holy warriors. The
men were killed outright, but the leader of the attackers had his way
with Ralsu's mother before slashing her throat. A good deal of mystery
surrounds how that woman made her way from the woods to Old Brimey's,
but she did. And Brimey used many salves and potions—fairly well the
whole of his worth—to keep her alive. Even so, she died soon after
giving birth.



The church dismissed the demon sightings as discovery of the bandits
and a more experienced squad of fighters was swiftly dispatched to
exact justice and make the woods safe. The second group found six men
holed up in a cave beneath a tree, but none of them matched the
description Ralsu's mother gave of her assailant. Soon after her death,
it was forgotten. Life went on as it always does.



It must have been that brigand's bad blood that shaped Ralsu so; he
never fit in with the Silver Flame. He had problems with authority
within the church, he skipped training when he felt like it, and he
never acquired the zeal for purifying the land that his brothers
displayed. Ralsu saw no use for the physical training of the church's
fighting force, and he rewarded the ministry with nothing but
disappointment when they tried to mold him into a future leader of the
church.



The one thing he did think
was worth his time was history—history of the church, the land, and
peoples. It didn't matter to him. Any tidbit about the past, especially
demons, was a compelling saga that must be explored in fullest detail.
And once Ralsu learned a story, he had to tell others about it. He got
good at it, too. That's part of his charm, you see. He can weave a
story, recite a poem, or recount the events of a game of dice at the
pub so well that listeners could almost see images of the incidents he
describes. When listening to Ralsu, people would sometimes enter a
state like a trance, and he could persuade them to do his will. I'm
ashamed to say that the trick worked on me once—cost me a good mule,
too!



The rebellious streak in Ralsu's youth stayed with him into adulthood.
He relishes an opportunity to spurn authority figures in public. The
man knows he is a gifted storyteller, and he proclaims himself smarter
than many wizards. He can be quite overbearing and conceited, and he is
completely unreliable. My advice is to tell him that you cannot give
him room in your inn any longer. Your parents worked hard to establish
the Cozy Cot, and they'd rise from their graves to haunt you if you let
a rascal like Ralsu Vejes bring trouble. And he will!



Love,

Uncle Nealgig

 

---

Nealgig,

Aru sends her love. The Cozy Cot
burned to the ground some three days ago. And don't blame me! I can't
help it that trolls came looking for me in my r href="http://ddo.tentonhammer.com/modules.php?set_albumName=Exclusive_Screenshots&id=Ralsu_sunset&op=modload&name=Gallery&file=index&include=view_photo.php"> alt="Ralsu sunset"
src="http://ddo.tentonhammer.com/files/gallery/albums/Exclusive_Screenshots/Ralsu_sunset.thumb.jpg"
style="border: 2px solid ; width: 123px; height: 150px;" align="right">oom
there. And you know it takes a good fire to get rid of trolls. Luckily,
I was in Aru's bed at the time.



How many times do I need to apologize to you, Nealgig? I needed that
mule for my journey, and Tebuckey is in good hands with me. He's going
to be there with me when I find my father.



In closing, let me share a “tidbit,” a “compelling saga” I've learned:
Priests of the Silver Flame are all lying scum!



Headed to Stormreach,

Ralsu

---