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Sundered Skies Sales Pitch

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    Hello all. I write little stories as sales pitches for my Savage Worlds campaigns to select what setting we would most like. The following is the one I wrote for Sundered Skies and you hope you find it enjoyable and useful.

    Forest Through the Trees

    Ulri’s great-great-uncle once said dwarves are not meant for running. That is why the Artificer built us so sturdy, that we did not have to run. The sound of his heaving breath and the roaring of some stampeding death behind him said that he had to run. Why did they take this job again? Oh right, the salvation of the Skies or whatever. Of course the Last Tome of Cinos was guarded by angry forest titans. He hated that little deer-man for all the trouble he got him into. Speaking of which…

    “Where’s the Captain?” choked out Ulri, almost tripping on the endless vines.

    The towering Orc bounding next to him met his eyes and then scanning the area, shimmering black braid dancing in the wind like a princess’. He spoke with all the elegance the voice of a stage actress.

    “I’ve not seen our dear Captain since this vengeful briar sought our blood for the dew of its leaves, Sir Ulri.”

    Songpriest Gormork retrieved the lute out from its decorative leather bag on his hip. Ulri rolled his eyes as the orc sang a song of…dancing fairies? It was difficult to hear over the sound of his lungs incinerating. It did work though. Ulri Hammerhand felt the wear in his knees fade and the bristling pain in his chest wash away. He was now outrunning Mr. Princess who had the put away his harp just to keep up.

    There was different roar. A familiar, reliving roar. Ulri turned to see the flapping blue wings of Frostmaw as she bellowing a pillar of ice and snow into one of the oaken giants. In one massive fist, the Last Tome of Cinos. In the dragon’s other claw was cradled the tiny Captain Antler. Ulri and Gormork were approaching the edge of the island and could begin to see the tan sails of the Double or Nothing through the trees. The woods cleared and the elven waterpriest could been seen deck scrambling the crew to ready for launch. Mara Silverleaf looked up, her mouth formed a very unpriest-like word, and began to lower the ladders.

    Frostwing flew overhead up into the soft orange nothingness that was the Void and then onto the ship. Captain Antler leapt onto the deck and quickly began to double check rigging. The vines at the edge of floating island began to lash at the Double or Nothing and Frostmaw howled her frozen wrath at them. Another roar from behind. A looping vine latched onto Ulri’s foot and sent him crashing to the ground. A forest titan’s foot slammed down next to him, ringing his head like a bell. It leapt into the air and landed on the now lurching Double or Nothing. Gormork strummed his harp as the tune carried him off his feet and floating into the air. He tossed back the rope he kept wrapped around his waist so Sir Ulri could ride along, only to gasp when he wasn’t there. Gormork’s eyes darted between the tree beast rocking the ship and the tree beast standing over his friend. He decided that a ship was needed for everyone to survive and continued flying toward their frigate. Sir Ulri had killed bigger things…

    Ulri’s eyes stopped spinning and he groggily pushed himself to his knees. Clarity slapped back to him when he saw he had almost rolled off the island, staring straight down into the Void. He stood to see the frozen remnants of a forest titan falling off the Double or Nothing. His smile was interrupted by the realization that people were standing behind him. He turned to see that accursed elven sorcerer and four of his remaining guards standing between the ankles of the other tree beast. Even his damned voice made Ulri want to piss.

    “Well, that was quite the show. However it is all for naught, I assure you. I will make this simple. You have two options: Tell me who sent you and you get to live. Don’t and you get riddled with arrows and fed to my tall friend here.”

    Unfortunately for fancy-pants this was Urli’s best-case scenario. He snorted loudly and spit mucus onto the grass.

    “You’re bad at math.”

    Ulri kicked backwards and leapt off the island. The sorcerer ran to the edge to settle his disbelief, only be met with a harpoon through the chest and then promptly yanked over. Ulri’s bushy red curls shivered in the wind as he hooked the gun to his belt and flipped a latch. This sent him zooming toward the flipping elf. Upon meeting in the Void, the arcane scholar’s last lesson was why the dwarves of this clan were known as “Hammerhand.” Ulri shook the elven teeth from his knuckles and began to root though the sorcerer’s flapping robes. His stony fist pulled out the missing page of the Last Tome just as Frostmaw eclipsed the voidglow from above.

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