The Amear

Landfall

Toroc had never envisioned anything quite like this, not even in his nightmares. As the Seldar craft crested yet another giant wave, the giant barbarian vomited in a magnificent arc right over the side. The immediate effects of his seasickness forced him to pause in his unceasing task long enough to steal a quick glance over the bow. Huge bolts of lightning flashed across the blackened sky, revealing through the thick sheets of rain a churning sea, never ending waves the like he had never seen before, and monstrous geysers shooting upwards out of the sea. They were floating in a sea of chaos.
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The powerful Nieran Eirwen was perched at the bow, her keen eyes searching for the mysterious flying creature that had been following them some ways off. Cormyr, the mariner (and more) manned the helm, his face set in grim determination as he experty guided the craft through the maelstrom.
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Already water was rising quicky at the bottom of the craft. Toroc’s hands ached, his massive arms burned, yet he had no choice but to grip the cold golden helm tightly and begin furiuosly bailing water back into the sea. Again, and again. Despite the hellish circumstances, Toroc cracked a wry smile. If only the great Seldar lord could see how this barbarian was using the precious Helm of Nis!

What seemed an eternity later, the storm miraculously seemed to lessen enough for the companions enough to realize they had finally found the coast. Cormyr skillfully piloted the stolen craft into a sheltered cove just inside the swamplands bordering the coast, finding an excellent cove to shelter them from the still powerful storm, and finally giving them a place to safely collapse from sheer exhaustion. They were away from the Isle of Daughters and its surrounding seas at last.

Eirwen pulled a welcome surprise from one of her many pouches—Ice Falls Caviar! Toroc had never supped on anything so delicious as now. He felt better immediately, and wondered at the ability to see perfectly in the darkness after the meal. The giant warrior was snoring even before the effects wore off a mere minutes later.

The next day found the three companions navigating through the myriad of channels cutting through the swamps and fenlands bordering the coast. Corymr thought that this would be safer than returning to the still treacherous Sea of Jianukkan. The mariner’s instincts were uncanny, and the party whisked right through the swamps. Just as they were hopeful to get back to the Otter lands without further incident, a strange creature with horns and furry legs (a Faun) made the unwise decision to pester them with wood warping spells and animal control. Huge branches of long dead trees rose out of the water and held their craft in place just as the party heard the roar of a giant crocodile approaching from behind. The Faun laughed as he began warping the very wood of their craft.

Toroc and Corymr began hacking at the suddenly alive branches, but it was Eirwen who saved them that day. She called upon a crocodile of her own to slow down the beast following them, and began to seek out the Faun. Despite unnatural agility and quickness, the creature couldn’t hide from the angry Nieren for long. Eirwen called upon a bolt of ice, which formed in her hand, and threw the icy lance with full force at the Faun. The miserable creature perished instantly. Eirwen took its horns, and Toroc slew the crocodile Eirwen had tamed, offering its hide and teeth to the Nieren. The swamplands held no further dangers for them.

Cormyr piloted the craft out of the swamps back to the coastland, where they found the storm had finally abated. He found a familiar sheltered cove just before nightfall, and they pulled the craft into the shadow of the cliffs above them. It was only then that they realized the cliffs above were swarming with the much hated dog-men, assembling in great numbers for a possible attack on Otter Tribal Lands.

After being detected by dog-men sentries, the party decided to brave the Gulf of Seals at night, and sailed straight away for Otter lands. They landed in the morning, and spoke with some very surprised Otter fishermen about the impending threat. Toroc sent one of the braves off to warn the village. Cormyr led the party to the village, where he told their entire tale to the assembled Wepontak. With the help of his mother’s influence, coupled with his new-found confidence and experience, Cormyr himself was given the great honor of being named Weagra to deal with the invading foes. He named Black Feather and Toroc as his fellow Weagra to help lead the entire muster of the Otter Tribe.

The party met Usul, who had shapechanged and flown back to Otter lands. He informed them that their lost companions, Beomear and Shansu, were literally clinging to life in the marshlands across the bay. Eirwen and Usual set out to rescue their friends, while Cormyr and Toroc stayed behind to begin planning for the invasion.

Toroc hit the glowing lump of metal sitting squarely on the anvil with powerful, precise strokes. He was overseeing a large group of smiths, using all the iron they had to forge hundreds of spear heads. Toroc envisioned this particular one tearing the throat out of one of the dark creatures who controlled the dog-men. He could not think of a better use for a spear. He was trying to look somber and respectable, but Toroc just could not keep the huge lop-sided grin from his face. He was back doing something he loved—creating weapons for his people from the precious metals of the earth itself. Kromm would be pleased with him. In a short time, however, Toroc would be doing something he enjoyed even more—killing the enemies of the Amear. Only in this battle, he would be leading. This time, by Kromm, he was Weagra!

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Toroc

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