My first time playing Rolemaster I was a kid and played in a adventure with my brother as GM and all his friends. It started with all of us having amnesia and finding ourselves shackled together on a beach. It was a great time trying to survive all the while figuring out who we really were and what we could do.

I tried to recapture some of that experience by running a version of the adenture myself. Keeping the pieces I could remember I generated all the characters and when we sat down to play I watched their faces as I handed out character sheets that were all blank but names. A campaign was born.

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The Void

The void was a formless, timeless experience. In that void, known to most as the abyss, wandered many souls, one of which was particularly dark.That soul wandered aimlessly, it’s past a vague dream. The abyss was not a place of fire nor a wasteland of ice. It was simply darkness. Darkness occasionally lit up by memories that come in flashes. For this particular spirit, pools of fire and howling demons would have been more welcome than this. This hell here was eternal. An eternity of jealousy and rage, for here he completely lacked the one thing which mattered at all to him. Power. And so he wandered and his jealousy of the living grew and grew. Powerless,the dark spirit raged for untold yeas. Memories of life occasionally lit up the black void, but vanished just as quickly as they came. Memories of faces, lands and battles. But most often memories of a single object. A crown. Sometimes the dark spirit felt another entity nearby in the void. Close by, but never in contact. The spirit knew that this entity was related to the visions of the crown, somehow.

“Patience…”, the entity would communicate. This was the only communication that the spirit ever had with another consciousness in the void. It was this shred of hope that the spirit clung too for a seemingly endless amount of time…

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Rebirth

Melgrin was lost. He had traveled farther from the caravan than this in the past, and always found his way back. But this time he had somehow gotten totally turned around. His father was going to punish certainly this time. He had already been gone eight hours. Melgrin was scared, but not because of the possible punishment. In less than an hour it would be dark, and the desert was a terribly cold place at night. Hunger gnawed at his stomach. There were also the nasty creatures that came out at night to deal with. He began to run. Melgrin ran until his lungs burned, and he dropped to his knees. The panic subsided slowly. He buried his head in his hands for a few minutes, and got his breathing under control. Finally, he got to his feet and surveyed the area. Sand for miles. Actually hundreds of miles he thought. That was when he spotted it.

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Falnor’s Journal

Awoke this morning to find myself shackled to a group of five other people. None of us seem to have any recollection of who we are, or what we are doing here together, but any one of them could easily be faking the amnesia.

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The Death of Karn

The graveyard virtually pulsed with malignant energy. A dark rain began to fall at midnight, while a lone, black-hooded figure stood before a tombstone. The stone read ” Master of silent death….. KARN”. If one was so inclined to get close enough, a low mumbling could be heard coming from the figure. Not in any language that most mortal peoples could understand. It gave the impression of the utmost evil. Thunder crashed louder as a black mist began to envelop the tombstone. The figure’s chanting grew louder as if to compete with the sky’s thunder. As the chanting grew to a crecendo, the black mist swirled faster and faster around the grave. The wind whipped the figure’s hood back, to display a face that would send any normal man running and screaming! It was the face of a dead man. No flesh remained on the skull. Only a bit of muscle and tendon held it together. But the most impressive sight was the bejeweled crown that perched on top the skull. Very few have seen it and lived. A red light glowed in the eye sockets. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the black mist congealed into a distinguishable form: that of a man. It only appeared as a shadow, but the first figure recognized it easily.

“Your service is required once again. And this time you cannot refuse!” the crowned mage proclaimed. He then began to laugh. The laughter seemed to amplify itself a hundred times over. It echoed throughout the graveyard, and even the rest of the city was awakened by this unnerving sound. Later, they would not be able to say what had awakened them. The mage spoke to the shadow form before him: ” You shall be my private assassin. In the form of “The Shadow” you will do my bidding. I have a task for you. Come, I will reintroduce you to some old friends……… HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA Ha Ha ha ha…”

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The Death of Falnor

From the corner of his eye Falnor watched the crown roll slowly to a halt at Kulas’ feet. In the dim light he could see the tiny bits of hair and tissue still stuck to Zarofs crown, much of it he knew was his own. It had all happened so fast that his shattered mind couldn’t comprehend why the power was not his and why it had not shattered Kulas’ body as it had his. In his last moments of life Falnor watched as his dark skinned companion was wreathed in a shroud of black lightning that stripped his skin from his bones and left him a bloody servant of death. Falnors last thought was “It should have been mine, the power should have been mine…”.

At that moment a lash of black energy struck him and he faded into death. The deamon thrashed and screamed at the powers unleashed by the lich that had forced him into this pittiful world. Suddenly the flow of energy’s changed and the lich was forcing him down into a twisted human form on the dirt floor of the chamber. There was a circle of flesh missing from the bearded humans head and a pile of arrows spread out around it in a pool of dried blood. The daemon roared with rage as it fought the lichs’ power but then it made contact with the dead human and its mind was destroyed in a flash. After what seemed an eternity of darkness Falnor saw a spark of light heading towards him through the void. The light squirmed and twisted away from him but with every passing moment it floated closer until he could make out a vague humanoid form within the light. As the ball of light struck him he was torn from the world of darkness and slammed into a body that was not quite his own anymore. When he looked down with his new eyes he saw that his black skinned hands ended in six inch tallons and his arms were much stronger than he could remember. When he looked up he almost didn’t recognize his old companion Kulas Dar with his staff and his black robes and burning eyes.

“Welcome back to the world of the dead Falnor, you seem to have lost some weight during the change. Come we have much planning to do to reunite the rest of our friends in death.”

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