Subject: Protectorate of Plort Outpost!
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Posted on: 2014-03-16 10:39:00 UTC

July's story kinda caused me to write something for the Protectorate of Plort, too, though I fear it is nowhere near as good as her story... but whatever. Here it is:

Once upon a time, in the distant land of Tivit, lived a foreign monk. First raised in the island nation of West-north, he quietly practised the martial art of Arpying — whose practitioners assumed the visage of others — in the monastery of Agog. Yet he yearned for something more.
Hearing rumours about the Protectorate of Plort and its fabled knights, one day he simply left the monastery. The great wars have moved elsewhere, and the Great Incident and Storm of Fury were things of the future; for a while peace reigned in the land of Tivit, and his journey was peaceful.
He arrived at Borrd on a clear night when the stars shone brightly and the Sirocco was blowing. For a while he settled there, but he did not find the satisfaction he sought, so he packed his belongings again and moved to Iric.
However, it was a time of unrest. Whispered conversations in the inns of La Wunj accused the reigning baron of cruelty, of greedy ambition. At first he did not believe the rumours, for he was naturally trusting. Soon, though, he clashed with the baron. It was not a matter of great import; a disagreement concerning a metaphysical statement, no more, but to the monk it seemed like the whole world hinged on the answer.
For a while he seethed quietly, but a time came when he could stand it no longer. Rejecting the revolutionaries that now plagued the region as the dangerous men they were, he instead went into exile, leaving Konty-nyuum for the island kingdom of Ydyff, where he fought in their wars for a time.
But the desire that drove him to seek Plort in the first place was still strong in his heart, so after a while he returned. The ship that brought him back was small but well-maintained, a parting gift from his commanding officer; he arrived at Borrd once again when the Sirocco was blowing and the stars were bright. Making his way through the streets, he quickly left the city.
Living for a time in the wildernesses of Baron Huinesoron’s domain, he chanced one day upon a queer sight. A knight was hard at work at a forge, whose fire was provided by a young woman. He approached them, and they soon became friends, bringing him to their abode in a hidden vale not far from where he encountered them.
For a while he was content to learn, working with the knight, who dubbed himself the Fast Seneschal, at his forge and with the woman — Karrin the Blue — at her library; but tragedy struck after but a short while. One day the monk returned to the library only to find Karrin tearing her hair out in agony, for she has seen a vision of a great Marizu leader raising an army for an attack on their abode. As the smith-knight was absent, they stowed away on a ship bound toward the Marizu lands.
Their battle with the Marizu leader, Nova, was long and hard; fortunately they had secured the help of a wandering knight, else they would have surely perished. At the end they triumphed, and, weary and wounded, they made their way back home.
Ever since then the monk is quietly toiling at the secret abode, practicing the dual arts of Beytah and Arpying with his friends. From time to time he ventures forth to slay the Marizu, and once every few months Ydyff’s king requests his services yet again, but for the most part he quietly sits in his library, learning.

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