Tuesday, January 31

A little about Jaccob Sorrow

 "I said she poisoned you." Jaccob replied.

 " So are you taking me to a healer?" Kellin asked, a tremor of fear began form in the back of his mind.

"Sort of," Jaccob paused a moment and said," This isn't going the way I intended. I'm usually better at this. But I'm meeting an old friend soon. I haven't seen him in a very long time. And I've looked forward to this moment with both anticipation and dread. So my nervousness is causing me to lose focus on the task at hand. So with my sincerest apologies, allow me start again.

"My name is Jaccob Sorrow. To some people my name is familiar, to you it is not. I have been known by many names. Some think I'm some horrible demon who walks around in robes and carry some wicked edged blade and look like Skeletor"


"You wouldn't know him. Sorry. Flustered. Some call me Black Knight, Thanatos, or Harvester of Souls. I am Death Incarnate. And to tell you the truth, I don't really care for edged weapons all that much. As a matter of fact, when I was an adventurer, I used a maul."

Kellin stopped and asked," So, I'm dead?"

"Yes, sorry again," Jaccob smiled at Kellin and said," The assassin's poison killed you with the first drink. You saw me as you died and you've been walking with me ever since. Most people see their death coming and are prepared. They go on to their own person afterlife. Some souls never see their deaths coming and without that knowledge it takes them time to understand. Normally I appear to them at the moment of death to assist them. You are one of those souls."

"I have a son," Kellin began to plead.

"I know."

"I have to see him, tell him.."

"Tell him what?" Jaccob interrupted. "Are you going to tell him you died? That's not possible. If you want to see him, that's what the afterlife is for. Well, for some anyways."

Jaccob turned Kellin towards him and said," You are dead. Your son will grow to be an honorable man. It will be long years before you meet him again. But you will. 

"I do not appear before souls of evil men. Allowing them to wonder as a spirit  is the greatest kindness I show them. The hell that some of them have created for themselves makes my avoidance of them a blessing. Until you accept that you are dead, you will wander this world as nothing more than a phantom. You will not be able to touch or even interact with anyone or anything. Eventually, you will not even know that you were alive and become some mindless spirit forced to forever roam. Good souls, like yourself, do not deserve to suffer beyond your death."

"Once again," Jaccob said," I humbly apologize for my ramblings. And my wish for you to accept what has befallen you this evening and move on to your pleasant afterlife. Now I must leave you to your choice. I have a very important appointment that I cannot miss.

Wednesday, January 25

Terraria is crack

First off let me say, I hate you Eric. Terraria is crack and I blame you.

Secondly, I have been stuck in that stinkin game so much I haven't posted the continuation of my first post. And I have other tales to spin. Tomorrow, hopefully, I'll post the rest of that story and then move on to some others that I have in the works. 

Sorry for the delay. And I hate you Eric

Friday, January 6

So it begins

 When Kellin was a child, the world appeared to be a land of excitement and adventure. When he as a young man in the streets of Wynter, the world appeared to be a dark cavern of fear and terror. But now in his prime, the world is a small and vile place.

 Kellin's father, a simple farmer from the northern plains, used to tell tales of the great seas of gold and brown that surrounded his family's farm. How the wind would blow and create waves in those seas. He would tell of the tiny menites, who would built their minuscule villages in those seas. About the deadly grass cats that roamed, hunted and even killed children there.

 It was in one of the tales of the the grass cats that caused Kellin's father to lose his arm as a child. In another one, his father told of the terrible fires during the dry years. It was one of those dry years that took Kellin's father and mother. What also took the adventure and excitement and drove a young scared child to the streets of Wynter also turned him into the cynical, yet strong man he was. But strangely, it was one of his father's tales about the menites that drew his attention now.

 "And thus, the Menite King slew the giant beast," the old bard in the back of the tavern said. 

 This was the first time since his father died that Kellin had ever heard the word menite. He looked at the old speaker, but saw a young man there instead. Kellin shook his head, trying to clear the fog of drink away. He remembered coming into the tavern and seeing the bard in the corner. But he could swear that he had been a man long grey in his years.

 Maybe, it's the ale, he thought to himself, as he assessed the young man. 

 His age was hard to guess, but Kellin figured he was somewhere between his second and third decade. The man's strange skin was a dark gold color and his strange yellow hair was tied back into some ornate braid that hung to his waist.

 Elvish, or some kind of elven blood, he thought. Maybe I should talk to him. he may know something about the Ambassador's death. Kellin wondered.

 As Kellin approached, the stranger turned and smiled at him. Kellin felt a slight tremor of fear as the man's piercing blue eyes gazed upon him. Those eyes seemed to see straight into Kellin's heart. It seemed if all his sins were laid bare before this man.

 "Greetings," the man said.

 "Yes..."Kellin stuttered. He couldn't seem to shake the disturbing feeling coming over himself. He tried to speak again but could only mumble,"It is."

 What is wrong with me? He thought to himself.

 "Well, then," the man's said smiling," I'm Jaccob, nice to meet you Constable."

 "How'd you know I'm a Crowner?"

 "Someone we both are familiar with drew my attention to you," Jaccob said.

 "And who is this unnamed person you speak of, so that I may ask them to explain you?" Kellin asked, feeling a little angry at this stranger's cocky smile.

 "Let me explain something to you Kellin," Jaccob said as he placed a hand on Kellin's back. "Let's go for a short walk. I assure you, it will be very enlightening."

 Kellin felt no fear leaving the tavern with the strange man. He actually felt a little peaceful, as if his worries over finding the Ambassador's killer didn't seem to matter. This man would take over the hunt for him.

 It's a spell. He's using some kind of magic to manipulate me. Kellin screamed to himself.

 "I'm not manipulating you Kellin." Jaccob said placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "I'm actually here to help. Let me tell a little about your investigation. Your informant told you the truth. The assassin is in the tavern. Unfortunately he also told the assassin that you were in the tavern."

 "You're here to kill me then?" Kellin asked.

 "No," Jaccob said," I'm not here to kill you friend. As I said, I'm here to help you. The assassin was the tavern matron. When the Ambassador and his daughter dined at the tavern, she killed them with a poison in thier wine.

 "She actually poisoned the entire table. Since ratroot is only deadly to elves, the rest of the ministers and counselors were fine. Maybe a slight uncomfortable night of abdominal pains, and in a few case some vomiting. But overall they were fit the next day."

 "So why don't I just go and arrest her?" Kellin asked, trying to turn back towards the tavern.

 Jaccob stopped him by saying,"Because she has already poisoned you."


Monday, January 2

A little about myself

 Yeah, I know. Everyone starts with this garbage. But hopefully this is the last time you hear from me. Jaccob will do the rest of the posts (hopefully). It all started in 3rd grade playing D&D in Mrs. Smith's class during recess with Eddy. We played off and on through 6th grade.

 7th grade my family swapped churches and I met my best friend Eric. We started hanging and playing D&D over at his place after church on Sundays and sometimes Battletech with Bradshaw. Course we had to hide it at the time from his mom. Don't get me wrong she was a cool lady, but at the time D&D had the bad stigmata. But her fears were soon alleviated by the best pastor EVER. Bro. Bob Nicholson.

 I digress. Eric, myself and a few friends started playing everything under the sun, with D&D being the main game. Ganth hadn't been born yet. The idea was there, but it wasn't alive yet. Every new campaign was built upon the previous one. So the lore of Ganth started long before the world took shape. If a PC became a king, god, or even villian they lived on through the campaigns and eventually shaped our campaign world into the Ganth we are currently building, and will probably always be building. 

 Jaccob Sorrow is not my creation. He was created by Eric. But once the campaign was over, I thoroughly loved the name and character concept so much, I stole him. Over the years Jaccob Sorrow continued to evolve through other DM's campaigns, every rpg video game I played, and even several mmo's into the Jaccob I love and hate today.
 Most of these Tales from the Harvester will revolve around our original PCs, some will be about other characters I've created over time, a few are characters from close friends(they will know who they are), and a little will be some junk Jaccob makes up.

 I hope you enjoy.