The return of Mikey, Part I

Mikey opens his eyes to a world of pain. All he sees are bright lights so he quickly closes his eyes again and returns to his sleep. The next day he wakes up again and feels a little better. He lifted his head and looked around the room. The only light in the room comes from a flame floating above the doorway. There is a table against the back wall with armor piled upon it. After a few moments he realizes that it is all of his equipment. He hears a noise from the door and looks over to see a dark figure enter. He is tall and completely covered in a black cloak. The dark man draws back his hood to reveal a human face. "Tell me where I am and who you are," demands Mikey. The dark man chuckles, "You are safe and alive. YOu should be more thankful. Do you even remember what happened?" Mikey takes a few moments and tries to figure out what the man is talking about. "apparently not," the dark man says. "Well let me explain, and then maybe you'll be more grateful! It all happened 7 months ago. "Acting like your normal self you picked a fight with a few wizards who were beyond even your strength to handle. They attacked you and the battle became viscous. An entire town was destroyed when one of their spells went awry. "Somehow you were able to kill two of them, but it was nto enough. You were defeated. They left you for dead in the mountains where you fought. And in fact, I'm not too sure that you didn't die out there. "A loyal servant of Nisstyre had witnessed the battle and took the news to a temple of loyal followers. We found you and brought you back here to attempt to heal you. "For days everything we tried to use failed. We lost all hope, but then a strange fellow who refused to give his name came to the temple. He claimed he could heal you and demanded to see you. "We had nothing else to try so we let him attempt whatever he thought would help. He locked himself in your room for 9 hours. The most horrid sounds I've ever heard came from behind that door. "We have no clue what he did, but it worked. When he left, you were alive and your condition had improved slightly. From there we handled the rest. "You have been asleep since then. Your body has fnially healed enough for you to wake and perhaps return to your life... although you will fid your world changed dramatically." It took Mikey a few minutes to take it all in. He had been defeated in a battle he didn't even remember. "We decided that you must be told this as soon as you awoke," the words of the cleric interrupted Mikey's thoughts. "The Church of Nightmares has fallen apart. WE were forced to flee the temple and hide out. "We were barely able to get you out before the tample fell. There are barely any true believers left out there." Mikey reeled as if he had been physically struck. "No! How could this be? You're lying!! I will kill you!" Mikey attempted to stand, but was too weak and fell back against the bed. "It is true, Mikey. Please, just give us last few some hope and say that you will stay true to Nisstyre! Do not turn your back on him as did the others!" For some reason he couldn't understand, Mikey believed the clerics words. "I am tired. I need to sleep. Leave me!!" Mikey shouted the last words in rage as he collapsed on the bed in exhaustion. continued later...

a bit of current info on irvine

Walking through the woods towards Westbridge one afternoon from visiting a friend by the name of Ariah Surefoot, Irvine found himself accosted by a band of vicious and feral orcs. These orcs ravaged him and did...well..horrible things to his bum, left him for dead near the great oak. He was found, beaten bloodied and shamed, but a young human woman and taken in, His wounds were healed and she set him out again, without so much as giving her name. upon returning to Westbridge and his rooms at the inn, he spent some time in reflection and decided that the woman must have been an angel sent to him from the new god of the people who called themselves 'Christians'. Irvine then repented to this god and devoted himself to learning the ways of this new god who so obviously presented himself to Irvine in the form of the human woman with the long ebony hair. within days Irvine had set himself to becoming a devout christian, a good samaritan in any way that he could be.

The Past Pt. I ("Kossuth's Blessing, Chauntea's Curse") Repost

It had begun centuries ago, he supposed. After one has been dead for so long, it is difficult to guess when one last drew breath. As many half-orcs are, he was the product of rape. Nestled between two mountain peaks at the spine of the world, his barbarian village had always been subject to infrequent raids by the orcish hordes. It was during one of these raids that his mother had been so brutally molested. Nine months later, he was born. Many of his tribesman blamed him for his mother's death. So strongly did his mother's sister believe this that on the very night of his birth, she threw him out into the cold to die, even as his mother's life-blood seeped out between her legs. Death did not claim him that night, however, as some other tribesmen spotted the bundle of cloth that so poorly sheltered him. He was taken to the tribal shaman, a man well-versed in the healing arts, as well as compassion. The shaman took him in and raised him as his own. He grew up differently than other children of the village- not just because of his orcish heritage- but also because of his hair. Tales surrounded him of his mother- the woman blessed by Kossuth with hair of fire, yet cursed by Chauntea. He had inherited his mother's fiery hair, revered among his tribe as a divine blessing. And he had also inherited the visage of his father, reviled by his people as the face of the enemy. Baleful glares followed his every step, yet none dared strike at him for fear of divine retribution. All of this changed when he came of age to be a warrior.

Street Racing [Part. 1]

The night shone brightly as the stars came out to play, motes of light twinkling in the midnight sky. A single flock of birds flapped their wings lazily as they flew smoothly over the vast expanse of land known to travellers as the Eastern Road. Slowing their flight, their primitive eyes alert, they glanced down at the murky city, makou gas vapors wafting away from lamps that glowed eerily against the night sky. A single humming noise brought the whole flock's attention towards the south, a reverberating sound that couldn't be heard by ears, but could be felt within the teeth and jawbones of every bird flying that night over the city of Westbridge. Two airships appeared, one of them white with silver lines streaming down it's beautiful form, the other solid clad metallic blue, with black stripes running like a tiger down it's azure hull. Diving into a barrel roll, the white one, zipped ahead of the other one and came inches away from slamming full force into the flock of birds in it's path. "AHHHH SHIT!!!!" could be heard even down in the city below, as Kyarn spun the steering wheel hard down, pulling his ship into a nose dive straight for Market Square. The other ship lazily floated down after it, like a righteous teacher scolding it's student, and parked next to the Westbridge beacon. Sliding the hatch door to the side, Dartanion strode out of his ship yawning, awaiting his friend to return. Meanwhile farther down below, even beneath some of the lighter cumulus clouds, Kyarn's ship had finally leveled out, right before slamming and destroying the Healing Wound Inn, to the cries of the brash young adventurers that used it as a home base. His back end seconds from clipping the roof of the Inn, the boy, his face determined, slammed his foot on the accelerator, and pulled hard back on the steering wheel, causing the ship to lurch upwards. Dartanion watched from above, shaking his head. "What a showoff," he muttered, his black trenchcoat sweeping the floor of the beacon. Turning the music on in his ship, he closed his eyes and sat back in his seat, the bass of a premium audio system built by Heifong Audio causing the gold coins in his cup holder to jingle around methoidically. A blast of cold air blew in through the door, and Dartanion swore, pulling his trenchcoat tighter over his scrawny body, and stumbled out the hatch, hurling a coin at Kyarn's airship. "WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG," he yelled, over the scream of Kyarn's turbocharged makou engines. These too died slowly away, and the hatch to the airship opened, sliding up and out. Caia and Kyarn stumbled out of the hatch, a bottle of Ulaver wine in the Kyarn's hand, Caia laughing, and pushing Kyarn teasingly as he stumbled into Dartanion's grasp. "I know you didn't let him drink. There's a big match tonight, and he's gonna need all of his wits if he's gonna beat the competitors. Shit, the way he is now, he doesn't have a ghost of a chance to even beat me." Caia snorted, and turned away. "I didn't do it, it was his little wifey, she made him drink, i swear." Dartanion eyed her suspiciously, and took the bottle from the wildly giggling child. "Kyarn, where's Vortigan, and isn't he racing tonight?" Kyarn shook his head. "He ran into Dalamar's ship, and the front end is all fucked up. It should be easy enough to fix, just some body damage, the engine's still good. I'll check the oil levels while i'm at it, but not right now, my head hurts like a muthah!"

Introduction to the Pax

A stranger walks into the Blue Moon Tavern, which a HalfOrc is standing in, looking out the window. This stranger seems to look at the HalfOrc with some extreme interest. The HalfOrc starts speaking first, the words coming out of his mouth to the human. "Welcome Demortes. By joining the forces of the Pax, you have sworn to protect the world, from the force we know as Ragnarok." "I have already agreed to this Krogenar," stated the human, "but if I must, I will agree again. I will do anything within my power to protect those in need from the Rok." Krogenar smiles, as Demortes looks at Krogenar and the surroundings. There is a small emblem on the wall. With a closer look at the multi colored ropes, which come to form a knot, Demortes thought to himself, "Is that a knot?" Krogenar nods. "How did you know the thoughts going through my head?" Demortes had asked. "You were examining it closely, and others have asked the same question." Demortes smiled at Krogenar. Demortes goes back to check out the room. It was a smaller room, one of the small rooms of the building. "If you can, please leave now, I have other things to attend." Krogenar turns to the window, looking at the sky above the realms. Demortes smiles at the short, about 5 feet is Demortes' guess, HalfOrc. Demortes leaves through the closed door, without opening it. Demortes chuckles. His fangs are visable now. "We shall see who wins this fight now." Demortes finds a near window, and looks at The Rok. "Your going down."

Meeting in Polaris

Elbryan Stepped back into his town and Looked around. Rememberin the sweet smells of the place. And at the same time remembering the god forsaken cold that was over this city year round. As Elbryan was about to round a corner he heard voices. Voices he had not heard in a long time. Kohrin and Atandella were standing in the City Center. He could catch most of what was said. They were discussing where a good place to put the city hall would be. Nobody knew that Elbryan was back in town yet and He kind liked it that way, but business needed to be taken care of. "I know where we can put the Town Hall." Elbryan says as he rounds the corner. Both Tandy and Kohrin jump back at the sight of him, and when the inital shock is gone agree to see the place that Elbryan has in mind. Elbryan leads them Down Crescent street And then on a northern street untill They reach an abandoned warehouse. "Kossuth himself showed me this building shortly before I left. I was not afforded the opportunity to tell you about it before I had to leave." said elbryan as he looked at the building. Then He looks at Tandy and says, "Im sorry for dissapearing again... My former life keeps calling me away. I think Things are resolved now. I shouldn't be dissapearing again for a long time...." Then Elbryan looks at his feet. and Tandy Lifts Elbryans head and says, "All that matters is that you are alive and here with us now. Nothing else matters." "Thank you Tandy" says Elbryan. "Here let me show you two the structure as it stands now."

Good Vs. Evil

Twas a cool day at the Market Square and I was resting on the park bench trying perticularly hard not to be noticed yesterday when I saw a series of odd events that I could not fathom. A large group of the PaX was fighting what looked like a group of the Dragon's Hoard. The PaX seemed to have the upper hand and as I have often noticed the dragon's hoard lost a member or two and stopped comming out. It looked as if the PaX had won when several Shadow Thieves started to attack Cyclonas, the sage of the PaX. This is where I could no longer understand what was happening. It was my understanding that the Shadow Thieves were a mercenary group and not one to attack at random a large group that they had no apparent buisness attacking. If this seemed odd up till now the next part will seem the strangest. At this point a member of the Good clans that were fighting would no longer fight against the Thieves because of a friendship that she had with one or more of the thieves. This seemed to confuse the allied clans more than one could immagine when She started talking good of the Thieves attacking the Pax and actually going so far as to say that the Pax members where at fault. In my days with the Zhentarim the Thieves attacked me many a time for no apparent reasons and I could not see how someone of the good persuasion could possibly side with the Thieves when they were attacking the PaX members. So in the end the PaX members made the Shadow Thieves turn tail just as they had the Dragon's Hoard, but the quabbling within the Good clans lasted long into the night.

Shou Dragons - The unknown threat

Welldoers and all those who work to diminish the evil in these realms listen carefully! I have seen some of the greatest and mightiest of riding the mighty Shou Dragon in it's early life stages. To my amazement i must say. Do not you know that the dragon, yes every dragon and also the shou dragon at any age, is the very manifestation of the demonic powers that exist in the astral realm? Do you want to be like the Great Whore Tchazzar who has these same manner of creatures guard herself? By allowing these filthy outcasts of the heavens to thread in our beloved cities.. But it is not too late. Slaughter these miscreants of the most devilish kind. Remove their hearts and burn their corpses. Deposit the remaining ashes into the everburning flames of the earth. If we ignore our responsibility as civilized beings and let our greed run free, these dragons will open the doors of cities like Westbridge for all manner of evil. Act now before it is too late! Signed, Nokke.

stupidity of the mfs

I wake up with blurred visian and a killer headache, and wonder what i did last night. As I begin prepare my stuff for the day, i realize all my stuff is missing Then when i check my pocket i see a note it was from a Drakyri Paladin, the note read "Sorry Phelan, we have fought valliantly to save you. Even though you were lost we mortally wounded Guiron Tell him if you see him, its not smart to start battles in front of me -Drakyri Paladin" snicker to myself, as it all comes back to memory

Pax Faerunis Meeting [1]

Stumbling down one of Westbridge's many forgotten alleyways, the tip of Krogenar's remaining crutch caught between two cobblestones. His left leg, unsupported for a moment, was shot through with pain. He grimaced, wrenched at the crutch. A cobblestone tore loose from the street. Clutching at his abdomen, the half-orc panted, beads of sweat on his forehead. With each breath, a faint pressure in his gut increased slightly... building. The strider limped into a darkened corner, leaned against the cold walls, slowing his breathing. Licking his dry lips, he mumbled. "... the Focus... Davion... " his fingers flicked out, counting off as he spoke. "... intro new members... shops... " he breathed slowly. He gathered his strength, grabbed his crutch, and pushed off from the wall. Something grabbed his insides. Dropping to his knees, the strider put both hands on the street... ... choked... a reddish-grey mass of pulp crawled up his throat. As it finally flopped to the floor of the alley, he gasped for air. Just in time. He knelt in the alley again, the muscles of his back twisting. Sighing, he wiped the mucous from his mouth, and stood up. The pile he had left in the alley twitched... letting off a light steam - warm in the night air. Disgusted, he exited the alleyway, walking swiftly. Though the thought made him want to retch again, he what it was... It was muscle. Dead muscle.  

At her command chair, Minli watched data appear on her armrests, from time to time. As her agents gathered information, they sent it back to The Sylphe. She watched them all here, like firefly facts. Constellations of information. Watching for patterns in the swarm of unconnected facts, a new data point appeared. '...K-walk' it then floated off to join the other bits of information which danced on her armrests.

The Gate

A clear mind. It was all she wanted and now Nightlore stood on the bluff in awe and silence, her mind nowhere close to clarity. The night before she stormed out of Annie's shop, livid and determined to clear her head and regain a little sanity. It always seemed Gwideon was there to chide her about any person she was around, and Kyarn seemed willing to play right along and oblige him. She had walked through the dark, not truly knowing where to go, until she ended up nearing the Dwarven Village. She stood at the crossroads with a smirk on her face. She remembered the days of fighting there. Indeed. Onward, Nightlore pressed in a northerly direction, her thoughts ambling through her mind until she found herself on a mountainous road. Travellers passed her, some with bags tossed about their backs, some on horse-drawn wagons with a single lantern to light their way. It seemed all of them were talking about the thing at the top. Muttering, Nightlore walked the incline and as night turned to dawn she reached the top. A few people stood on the edge of the bluff, clutching their belongings as they gawked openly at something in the far distance, speaking about it in hushed, yet worried tones. Pushing her way through a couple of bystanders, it finally came into view. Massive...and crawling with workers that, from the distance, looked like ants. Her mouth slowly opened, and Nightlore stood frozen. She had heard very little about the gate...but nothing prepared her for this.

Fate Complete

He returns, shallow and bitter. Recognize me? Even a glimmer? Empty eyes, staring past me. I'm glad he's home where he should be. Wedded symbol now removed. Tarnished love lost, so I presumed. His choice, his hand of fate. His eyes ravage me now in hate. Memories etched on shattered heart. Time to make a brand new start. Fare well stranger. Fow now I not know you. My husband of old was so much more. You are but a shell carved in his vision.

Here and Now

I once was lost, but now am found. My feet again are on the ground. Not long ago, I gave up all, And spiraled down, into an endless fall. My life, my heart, my burdened soul, I cast away into the cold. Where once there was love, a warmth inside, Now I can tell that it indeed has died. My wife, my ring, the cloest bond, I discarded and made it look like I was not fond at all of them, though perhaps i was wrong. And now I stand, returned at last, to wonder what else as come to pass. I live my life no longer alive, a lonely assassin I am, of love deprived. And so with Darkness I walk, alone at last, I do not balk. Determined am I on the path I chose, Though wondering if I was right to close the door on my life of before, on the life of the Seive of lore.

Respite [5]

Writing hastily, the strider held the quill as he was taught, the tip of his tongue caught in his teeth. Eager to begin his journey, he carefully printed out each letter - hoping he would be able to get everyone together. He closed the parchment, and handed it to the printer. The gnome behind the counter held the parchment at arms length, adjusted his bifocals. "How many copies?" Krogenar slapped some platinum down on the counter. "How many will that buy?" The gnome moved to the coins, counting them out one by one. The strider looked out the shop's window, and thought he could see the sun move. He tapped a finger on the counter, waited. The gnome hopped down from his seat, began tapping on a small machine. The copy gnome beamed at the machine, his eyebrow pointing at it. "She a beaut, eh?" Krogenar's expression did not change. He blinked at the gnome. "It's an adding machine, of sorts.. It can divide by ten in minutes!" the gnome smiled. "How many copies?" Krogenar repeated, his face beginning to color. The gnome pushed a final button on the machine, pulled a lever backwards with relish. Two Thousand copies." he wrinkled his face up in curiosity, "Why so many?" "Make as many copies as that money will buy, and distribute them by tonight, all over Westbridge."Krogenar left the building, and the gnome behind.

Respite [4]

Krogenar turned on his side, and allowed Minli to perform the procedure on his other leg. Focusing on the smooth, acid-etched metal walls of the airship, he felt his other leg split open, but felt no pain. A distant sensation, of something beeing 'placed' into his ruptured leg could be felt. He was strangely detached from it. Taking a deep breath, he stared at the wall again. When the light struck them askance, pictographs could be seen, very finely etched into them. Pearl colored, they must mean something. He felt a distant,'closing' sensation. "Your legs will heal Krogenar, in a few days time." He turned onto his back, to face Minli, who slowly closed her black trenchcoat. "Thank you, Minli.."She nodded, smiled at the strider. "You'll need them soon." "I'll speak with the Sunites next." he said. Minli scoffed. "I don't think they'll be of much help," she frowned. "...not if they know that I'm involved." Krogenar frowned, raised an eyebrow. "I know that they'll help me Minli." "I have a friend in their Order - a pixie who enjoys pinching me!" he grinned. Minli's mouth curved into smile, "You mean Zaria." He nodded. She leaned closer to Krogenar, informed him, "She pinches EVERYONE Krogenar." They chuckled for a moment, then Minli asked, "I've noticed some other anatomical anomalies while performing this surgery..." The half-orc's eyebrows came together, and he smirked. Minli took one if his arms, turned it over. "Here. Your arms, the hair on them, they grow in all directions, not in one direction. You were -" "Burned? Yes. My arms were burned some time back, when I was much, much younger." He grinned, his canines peeking out. "The hair on them has never grown straight since.""He tries to smile without showing his teeth," Minli observed inwardly. "He's a bit sensitive about his canines." she thought. She asked, "I could fix that as well, hardly as difficult as your legs." The strider shook his head. "My arms work - I don't care how they look, really." He grinned again, his lips together. "Thank you though, for offering." Minli nodded. "Then go, and find Keldon - with or without the help of The Sunites."She helped him from the chair, and handed him his crutches. 

 Krogenar hobbled through the streets of New Thalos, happy to think of it under the control of The Church of Istishia. There were no outward changes to it yet, but he control of The Church of Istishia. There were no outward changes to it yet, but he was sure some were planned. He came to the curb, looked at the step upwards he would have to take. Putting one foot gingerly on the curb, he took a breath, looked at his leg. He pushed up on his crutches, lifting himself up those few inches. A twinge of pain shot through his leg, and he toppled forward onto the pavement, landing on his right shoulder. Growling at a tourist who stopped to observe, he looked to the leg that failed him, saw its surface quivering slightly. Something inside his leg snaked about, grasping at tendons, trying to make itself more like the rest of the flesh it inhabited. It only wanted to fit in. Krogenar felt his tendons and ligaments pulled from within, tightening. He took short, quick breaths, waiting for it to stop. Eventually, the thing in his leg stopped its explorations, and quieted itself. Grabbing at the wall, he pulled himself up, snatched his crutch back from the tourist who offered it to him, and hobbled west. Despite his irritation, one of his legs felt stronger.

Departures and Beginnings

Spoth left the meeting in a huff. He was angry that again his ideas were being rejected. The Zhentarim was falling apart with the high ranking members all fighting and off in distant lands. Nepool followed him out. 'Well, if noone will listen to me, what am I doing here? Chismato wanted me specifically to take over. If I can't do anything, I will be leaving and going where my talents may be appreciated.' Nepool looked a little upset by that. 'Look, why dont you stay,' he replied, 'I have just been given the position to do something about the situation. Stay and help for a while at least.' Spoth seemed too disheartened to care any more. 'No, old friend. I must go. There is no longer a place here for me.' With that, he picked up his survival pack, and headed off out among the dwellers in westbridge, but after turning his back to Nepool, a mysterious grin appeared upon his face.

The awakening

A dull roar encompasses my ears, growing greater and greater until it seems that I must burst... I awaken. What has happened? Phantom memories of Gold and Brown, of a pixie goddess... of Benevolence and of Love. Of kindness betrayed and beauty destroyed. I remember a man... no, a machine! Named Tobar... Purple and grey colors and a terrible battle. All this matters not, as if it were a dream of another lifetime. I was a different being then. I had a conscience then. What was my name? It was Harrower. I am Harrower.

FLAME - The Scouting Of Polaris

I pulled my cloak tighter about me to protect myself from the harsh weather of Polaris. Tandy and I had been wandering around the small town throughout the day searching for a place to construct the new town hall. So far no spot looked promising enough. Snow covered almost every inch of the town and it was hard to see what the land was really like beneath the layers of snow. As we came into the city center we decided to sit down and take a break. I pulled off my pack and sat down on a bench, "I dont know how I am going to get used to the cold weather around here." Tandy sat down and looked around at the people going about their business on the streets, "The cold is only a minor inconvenience in the grand picture." I smiled and thought back to our purpose for coming here, "There aren't many good spots that we could construct the town hall." "But we must find a place for us and the people to gather... they are as much a part of this as we are." I nodded and looked around, "Perhaps we might have to make do with one of the spots we have already looked at." Remembering how bad the places were that we looked at earlier I added, "Although we will have to dig it out some." "This is true... which place did you have in mind?" I stood up and pointed in a western direction, "The one near the lake, there wasn't as many buildings around it. It would allow us more space to construct the town hall." She looked off to where I was pointing and smiled, "It was a good area, central to all those living in the village." I threw my pack over my shoulder and looked back to Tandy, "Shall we take another look then?" She stood up and we headed back towards the area near the lake.

Returning to Titan Valley

Its been a long time since I was last in Titan Valley. I can still hear the screams of my family and friends as the Vectorians invaded our homes. My parents forced my sister and I to hide so that we would not be killed. We had to hide in an alley while the vectorian soldiers barged into my home that I was raised in and murder my parents. As fast as they came, they left to find their next victims. I remember sitting on this very hill overlooking the valley and watching the smoke rise up from the ashes of the only place I had ever known. The word of taking the valley back from the Vectorians that was going around town had brought back these terrible memories and I knew there was only one way I could put them to rest. I had put my weapons away, not wanting to ever shed the blood of anyone again. Yet now they are back in my hands, ready to repay the Vectorians for the damage they have caused me.

FLAMEs in Polaris (Part 8)

Stark's eagle eyes bore holes through the bundled mass of fur upon his doorstep. Well over two hours had passed, and still the loathsome creature had yet to take a breath from haranguing him over the injustices of making him wait in the snow. Stark vigorously rubs his taloned hands across his leather encased arms, berating himself for failing to grab his cloak ere answering this errant creature's rude knocking. Icicles had begun to dangle from the point of his raptor beak. This had gone on long enough. A mounting flame of irritation rages through his system until he finally erupts, "Now LISTEN, you vacuous, rat-pelt covered windbag, either tell me what brings you to my door at this time of night, or leave before I give you a burning sensation that's sure to keep you warm in even this frozen place!" Silence stuns the bird as the stranger instantly stops speaking. Stone hard eyes peer through the folds of impeding cloaks taking in the kenku before creasing at the corners as if amused. "Tis about time ye greet a wander'n travler right proper like, ye blasted bird. Had me goin' thru the motions of salutation long nuff, don't ye think!" The stranger roughly pushes past Stark and trundles inside, "Get yer feather-duster arse in here bird, yer turnin blue already. Its time to be gettin' to business." Stark thankfully rushes to close and bolt the door, and turns just as the stranger removes the last of his impeding weather garments. The rotund, gray haired dwarf erupts into a sonorous pronouncement, fit for a Royal Court introduction, "Ye be askin, who I be... well I be the Third Viscount Elias Dirgestandal CleftReaver, Corruptor of the Seventh Sect, Travestor of the Kobold Tribes, Armorer of the Battleragers, third cousin twice removed by marriage from her most prolific majesty, Queen Strangelove, and Emissary of the Dwarven Kingdoms. But Ye, ye can call me Dirge, fer short." The dwarf stomps his boots loudly and bows deeply, the length of his beard sweeping up a mote of dust in its wake. "As fer me purpose..." (continued)

Speaking with the leaders

"Attention leaders of Polaris.  I am Kaz Starchacer of the FLAME.   The time has come for you to decide what you want for your city. The FLAME offers you comfort.  Yes, the cold of the city hardens you into the warriors you are.  But heating your homes is not the only  thing that we offer you.  We offer to bring trade into your isolated city. We offer to help modernize your city, police your streets, and offer protection against those who would wish you harm.  The Istishians will try and sway you from what we offer you.  They  will tell you that we are only here to serve ourselves.  I have been  alive longer than this city has existed.  I would not support anything that  was not in the best interests of the realms.   I am a Crimson Guardian before I am a FLAME.  I give you my word that FLAME will in no way hurt your city.  They plan to improve the quality of your lives and catch you up to the rest  of the lands that surround you.   This city has played home to me many times over the years, and I hate to see it become the barren waste that it has become.   With tourism you can bring in some much needed money that you could use to make your city more livable.  We dont presume to be able to change the climate of the city.  But we do plan to make your homes much more livable.  With this I leave you to your decision.  I have made my offers. As have the others of FLAME that have come here to tell you what we offer you. Now it is up to you to decide how you want to live."

With a bow and a wave of his hand Kaz dissapears from the room, leaving the leaders of polaris to debate over the future of their city.

FLAMEs in Polaris (Part 7)

It is the darkest hours of night as we find Stark  still going about completing his reports of the day. 

THUMP THUMP THUMP

The thunderous pounding from the alleyway entry  quickly draws his alert attention.

"Who could that be?  I'm not expecting anyone,  especially not this late.", he whispers worriedly to  himself.

Cautiously he makes his way up the escarpment to the  bolted door; steam from the saunas condense in running  rivulets down the walls and across the floor as he  passes by.  He slides a spy hatch open and peers into  the swirling snow of the night and yet .... sees  nothing.  Hastily closing the hatch, Stark shrugs in  confusion and makes to return to his study.

THUMP THUMP THUMP

Stark nearly jumps out of his feathered hide as the  deafening blows ring throughout the building.  "What  the flaming ....", he curses as he again tremulously  opens the spy hatch... and again... can see nothing.

Closing the hatch, Stark contemplates what the source  of this nocturnal disturbance could be, when...

THUMP THUMP THUMP    POUND POUND POUND

Growling in irritation, Stark throws back the  restraining bolts of the door.  As the light of the  building spills into the dark and ice covered depths  of the back alley they illuminate the source of the  midnight madness...

"About time ye opened the damn-ed door ye  flamin unplucked, undercooked chicken... ye seekin  to be seein me freeze te death fer yer own pleasure  or what ... and another thing..."

Stark sighs and patiently waits for his visitor to take a breath, certain that it will likely be a while yet.

(continued)

Krogenar in the Inn

Kaz sat quietly and listened to the discussion in the inn around him. He drank his usual brew, and kept his cloak low.  He had stripped himself of all of his identifying marks so that the people around him would not know who he was.  Kaz was infuriated by what Krogenar was telling the people. How dare he accuse the FLAME of using the city for their own purpose. Sure the city held some benifits for the FLAME.  But Kaz had been around long enough to know that Elbryan would never let any harm come to the Citizens.

Long after the people had left the inn.  Kaz had some time to think about what had just happened.  Finally later that night Kaz decided to go report to Elbryan. Kaz Told elbryan everything that he had overheard that night. Elbryan was less than pleased with the whole thing.  After telling his story Kaz  Left Elbryan to think about what to do next.  Kaz knew Elbryan would know what to do about Krogenar.  He always seemed to know what to do. Kaz was glad that the Flame had the two capable leaders that it did.  Otherwise FLAME would not have lasted as long as it has.   With his work for the night done, Kaz went out to the city of Darrowmere to sit int he forrest for a while, to calm his nerves...

FLAMEs in Polaris (part 6)

Quickly stretching his limbs to warm his cold  atrophied muscles, he leapt with avian grace to the  heights of the trader's building.  Talons gouged  through layers of ice and snow before finding purchase  in a beveled crease of the slate roof.  Soundlessly he  trudged across the expanse, tracking his quarry from  the building heights.  Stark watched with rapt,  unblinking interest as Krogenar labored through newly  formed snow drifts and entered the local tavern. 

"Lambs to the slaughter", a knowing grin played across his raptor beak, "or rather, a certain little piggy  just made it to market."  His chilled breath clouded  the hazy night as he whispered, "The best form of  information, is misinformation, my porcine friend.  We  have well prepared our contingents here for your  eventual arrival."

With barely restrained mirth, Stark waited for the performance to unfold, confident that his agents would  liven up the Istishian's confidence of FLAME's failure  here in Polaris.  The uncountable and torturous span  of time of living and preparing in cold suffering had  paid off, FLAME plans were quickly coming to fruition.

His humor only increased all the more as his thoughts  centered upon his comrades...  especially those in New  Thalos.  "... and the curtain rises even now upon a new act being performed in your own backyard."

With a firey glint, he hastily leapt from the heights and made way to the chapel to prepare to receive the reports of his comrades.  Stark had had a very busy, yet fulfilling day.

FLAMEs in Polaris (Part 5)

Stark stepped down from the fountain and smiled broadly as he handed out the remainder of his parchments to the anxious citizens.  "Yes, Krogenar... I am well aware of your presence.  Twould take more than a few seasonal bathings to shield your wretched smell, even in the depths of this frigid waste", he thought amusedly to himself.  His hawkish eyes hadn't missed the Istishian's less than adequate attempts to lose himself in the crowd as he had continued his speech.  Though well skilled in the arts of camouflage in the wild, Krogenar was well out of his element here in the city.  The expected and long-awaited appearance of the enemy merely made things all the more interesting.  "Indeed, the Istishians have placed their necks right in our noose, just as Lady Atandella foresaw they would"  Stark congratulated to himself as he marked Krogenar's slinking retreat through  half-lidded eyes.

Pocketing the fire ring, Stark graciously took his leave of the assemblage and made his way down the ice shrouded street to the depths of a frost-limned alleyway.  From the depths of a 'borrowed' bag of holding he withdrew a flowing white cloak which blended seamlessly with the surrounding snow, even in the growing darkness of the fast encroaching night.   Donning the garment, Stark drew the cowl low across  his head and studied the wall before him with a smile.  "Ah... the thrill of bagging the mark."

Campaigning in Polaris 2.1

The townsfolk chittered away at the thought of becoming like the decadent southern cities. "Can't have that! Gamblers and flop houses everywhere! We know what the southern cities are like..." a voice called out. "He's just trying to scare us! We'll always remain as true Polari's!" another countered.

One elderly woman spoke up, "They move here, where it's warm like the other cities... and then the whores will come!" Some of the younger men cackled, and she pounced on them.

"See! Even now our men are pining for those southern strumpets and hussies... they wear next to nothing at all!" she nodded with dreadful certainty.

One older Polari, a grey-haired sailor posed a question to the strider. "What would you propose instead then?"

"I would propose that Polaris stay the way I have always enjoyed it..... ....Cold. Where the strong and the straight walk." Other voices called out, even while some silently nodded in agreement. "He only wants _HIS_ church to rule here!" Shaking his head, Krogenar replied. "No. I just think that Istishians, like myself, would be... ... a better fit with the way Polaris is now. Make no mistake... the FLAMEs want to change Polaris to suit themselves. We can have prosperity, and you can rule yourselves."
"But Polaris can, and SHOULD retain it's uniqueness... it's cold."

The strider left then, and walked into the cold, continuing his search for The Way.

Campaigning in Polaris 2

Later, in a tavern, some of the townsfolk gathered to discuss this strange visit. Under the peaked cedar rafters, the men and their wives smoked and drank - the doors shut tightly against the cold night wind. People spoke at individual tables, until the talking turned to debating - with speakers taking the floor, one by one.

Krogenar watched them from his table, silently. Ordinarily, they were a taciturn, unreactive people - not given to the loud passionate speaking that was the norm amongst those of warmer lands. But the days doings had aroused a fire in them.

"I say let them warm this place - we have suffered too much from the cold!" The middle-aged fisherman sat down, pulling his warm ale closer.

An old man stood shakily from his table, helped to his feet by his sons. "The warmth would be kinder to old bones like mine... I say we take them at their word." His sons nodded at that wisdom, helping him to sit, wrapping him in furs.

But other voices did not agree.

A youngish man, tall and lean, with the wide shoulders of lumberjack stood, placed his mug on the table beside him. "Polaris has always been as it is now. Why should we change? If others wish it to be warm and balmy, like some desert - let them leave!" Some cheered to this.

Smiling at the support, he finished, "Or let them rule elsewhere!" More applause from some patrons.

As the catcalls and cheers died slowly, other concerns were raised. "What of these Istishians? They could be lurking about, even now! If what the FLAMEs say is true, we should be wary of their lies." Another spoke, "They hate the Istishians - that's clear, I think. We should NOT choose sides betwixt them - keep to the old wisdom: 'Leave Fighting Bears Be.'"

Some knew of Krogenar's association with the Church of Istishia. And as the word slowly made its way about the room, from conversation to conversation, many eyes came to settle on him.

The strider kept to his beer.

"Well, Istishian? What say you? Can the FLAMEs really do what they said they could - make us into a paradise as they promise?" A fisherman stared at the half-orc- waiting for his reply.

Putting his mug down, Krogenar looked down into it.

As though speaking to it, he said, "I call Polaris paradise already - no changes needed." The room erupted into argument again. The strider stood, pulling his knapsack over his shoulder, arranging his winter coat.

From the din of voices, a young man shouted to Krogenar. "You're not even a Polari, half-orc! Don't pretend to know us! The FLAMEs offer us warmth, and we'll take it!" Krogenar stopped on his way to the door. "Think on this, Polaris - think of what the cold and ice has given you."

Most of the younger nobles scoffed. "..numbed fingers!" But some of the old-timers caught his meaning. The strider approached the young men who tended to their aging father. "You are right. I am not Polari. But I have traveled to other, warmer lands, and so I can tell you of them." Some leaned in to listen, others fell back into their chairs, smirking.

"They are not like Polari. Grown fat and lazy where the living is easy..." He seized one young man by the shoulders - who resisted - pulling away. "Your young are strong, resilient - hardened by the cold." he said, smiling. He motioned to a table of lumberjacks. "Your sons, able to withstand the fierce north winds, only they dare to chop at the trees of the north."

The room quieted to a low buzzing as they discussed this idea. But the strider continued. "And what of discipline? Your fishermen, survive the raging seas only through the discipline that adversity forces upon them."

"Polaris, you are strong - strong because it was the cold, the ice, the snow - the Water - that forced you to such strength."

"Would you be like all the other cities in the Realms? You are a rare northern jewel! Would you take on the other qualities of the warmer cities?" He played this card, knowing what they thought of the people who populated the south.

Stark's visit to Polaris

Elbryan watched Stark work the croud from the edge of the croud.  Stark's eloquent speach got the crouds attention quickly.  The Ring just giving off  enough heat to melt the ice and snow in the immediate area.  Elbryan had  left Stark to speak as he would to the crowd.  Now he was glad that he did.  Stark was a much better publicist than Elbryan could ever hope to be.   Some people just walked away from the speech, but many others stayed and listened. Many of the citizens of polaris had never even known that there was a world beyond their small city.  Stark's talk of the outside world made them curious  about the way things worked.  They had never had a ruling class to govern  Things for them.  Elbryan knew Stark would know how to play off of that to  keep their interest in FLAME. Elbryan smiled as he walked away from the fountain.  He whispers to himself, "Well done Stark."

Campaigning in Polaris

(Technically, Krog is out in the Wastes, sure to die of frostbite and hypothermia... for the moment, lets just imagine he stopped on his way in Polaris first.)

Handing the pelts to the man behind the counter, Krogenar turned to the window of the trading post - watched a group of people milling about.

"We're square now Krog... fine furs, fine furs..." the merchant purred at the thought of the price that the women of Polaris would pay to adorn themselves in such fashionably warm coats.

But the half-orc was growing into a wiser merchant with each trade. What he once traded for some simple supplies and a room, he now traded for supplies and credit on his next visit!

But the trader still came out ahead, and the strider often brought strange and difficult-to-find carcasses back - to which he gave him the first pick.

Looking up from his imaginings, surrounded by open barrels of goods, the trader saw the strider walking towards the gathering outside.
-------------------------------------------------------

Krogenar watched the people milling about the town square... - Polaris - being so close to the frontier - rarely had visitors.

"Stark..." he muttered under his breath.

Watching the FLAME wave his hands as he spoke, the people around him listened with earnest - curious to see what the stranger brought with him. Standing atop the fountain, he spoke of remaking the city into a paradise to rival any of the great cities of the Realms. Some of the people around Krogenar looked on suspiciously - but others were curious.

"A paradise? ... What's he on about? .. like New Thalos ... or Westbridge... what's this western bridge?..."

As they muttered, some cried out in concern when the speaker lifted a ringed fist, and his eyes shone with a crimson light that was matched by the ring he wore.

A wash of heat rippled through the air, melting some of the snow on people's coats, soaking them with water. Icicles hanging under the eaves of a nearby tavern dropped like deadly pikes, nearly spearing some greybeards who sat underneath, listening. A small wail caught the strider's attention amidst the chaos.

Atop her daddy's shoulder, a 5-year-old girl watched in horror as her ice cream cone melted under the furnace-like heat, dripping down her father's winter jacket. Her small, cherubic face turned scarlet - nearly losing her breath from the effort of crying. And then the tears began streaming down her cheeks, her little shoulders shaking as she cried.

Frowning, Krogenar looked back at the speaker.

"We do not, however, wish to force governance upon you by force..." Raising an eyebrow, he smiled - waiting for the inevitable rhetoric about Istishians. "We are aware of the lies which have been perpetuated by our rival, the Church of Istishia, in attempts to befoul Lord Flame's honoured name..."

FLAMEs in Polaris (part 4)

Stark levels a piercing gaze about the gathered crowd as he continues to speak the tempo of his words matched by the people's chilled breaths.

"The Istishians claim that they were forced to create their church as a means to counter the spread of Kossuthian influence throughout the lands.  Given that there was no devouted worship to Lord Flame until well after the Istishians became actively promoting his downfall in the realms, we must ask what exactly their true motivations are.  There have even been accusations made by the Church of Istishia against the Crimson Guardians, claims that the clan is merely a pawn of Lord Fire in enacting his plots about the  realms... again unfounded and clearly untrue.

FLAME was created by Lord Fire in order to balance the growing expanse of power and misinformation that was being spread by the Church of Istishia.  Alarmingly, the Istishians espoused the extinguishment of all fire from the realms.  Not only would this effect magic profoundly, but it would also cause a detrimental and lethal effect upon the very realms, should this ever be permitted to come about.  The elemental balance must be maintained.  It is FLAME's duty to maintain  it, not eradicate or eliminate CoI as they are want to  do of us.

We accept the necessity of the Water element in the  balance of life and expect the same respect from them  in return.  For what is life without the SPARK of  flame, the BREATH of wind, the BODY of earth and the  VITALITY of water.

Lord Kossuth is a beneficient and gracious god.  His  blessings ensure that our crops grow, that the  harshness of winter comes to timely end, that the  realms are bathed in light, and that we have the use  of almighty fire in all its forms against the wilds  and beasts of the realms.

Allow us to aid your suffering city by bathing it in  the warming glow of his blessings.  The time for  Polaris to be recognized by the realms has come...  allow us to take you there." 

Stark takes a deep breath as he steps down from the  fountain.  He smiles broadly as he hands out all of the parchments to the waiting people.

FLAMEs in Polaris (part 3)

Donning his ermine trimmed cloak, Stark steps out into the chilled streets of Polaris.  His arms heavily laden by billets and flyers, he trudges cautiously through the slickened streets until he finds himself in the central square of the city.

Placing the documents upon an overturned crate, Stark sweeps the billowing folds of his chill-shielding cloak aside as he steps atop the ice glazed marble of a fountain and prepares to address the gathered citizenry.  His eyes flare as he twists a ruby encrusted ring upon his taloned hand and activates a crimson aura which emanates a soothing warmth about the entirety of the area, stealing the  frosty kisses of the cruel Polaris breezes.

'People of Polaris, I come to you on behalf of Lord Kossuth and his devout followers known as FLAME.  It is his divine wish that you choose to allow his followers to aid and assist you in making your long-ignored city into a paradise which rivals the other great cities of the realms in commerce, trade  and adventure.  We do not, however, wish to force  governance upon you by force, moreover we pray that  you would choose to accept our aid by voting our  faction into power in the impending elections.

We are aware of the lies which have been perpetuated by our rival, the Church of Istishia, in attempts to befoul Lord Flame's honoured name.  We merely ask that you judge such accusations in the light of the evidence and not the conjecture which they are often  clouded by the Istishians.  FLAME realizes that there  are some questions which have arisen concerning our...  relations... and we would like to come forward with  the facts in order to provide you with a clearer  picture.

Lord Kossuth has taken no part in harming the realms.  He has often been accused of many attacks upon the  City of Westbridge through the use of the looming  comet, yet this is plainly and obviously not true.   Our confused compatriots in the Chapel of Water  wrongfully assume that merely because the Rok has some  capability of fire damage that it MUST be sent by Lord  Flame, and yet they refuse to accept or see that the  Rok is an agent, or device rather, of much older and  more powerful forces than even Lord Kossuth may call  to bear." 

Polaris

Elbryan Picked up the note that apeared on his desk and looked at it.  The contents pleased him greatly.  He wondered if the people of Polaris would want the heat that Flame Offered them.  Elbryan decided that he would write a Few Flyers and post them  about the town. 

Atention citizens of Polaris.  The Order of the FLAME offers you a better life.  The cold that you live with every day can be dealt with easily.  We propose an aquaduct system that would pipe steam from our very own temple satraight to every business in the city.   We also propose a tax system that would stimulate the growth  in the area and allow the businessmen of the city to do buswiness. With us you will live warmer and easier.  Tourism in the city will go up and the standard of living within the city will be raised.

Thank you
Elbryan Dragonfire of the FLAME

Elbryan tacks the flyers up about the town and hopes that  everyone will read them.  Elbryans intentions for the city were truly noble. The hope that he would piss off the istishians was only an added bonus to the deal. After looking back at the note one more time Elbryan slips back into the shaddows.

FLAMEs in Polaris (part 2)

Finally completing the missive, Stark reviews what he has written one last time, the crimson quill grit in his razor sharp beak:

******************************************************

High Flame Atandella and Lord Elbryan:

Per your request, I am reporting some of the things which the righteous forces of Lord Fire may strive to bring to the cold and troubled peoples of Polaris.

- aquaduct waters from the Dark Lake through the proposed Temple of Kossuth, thereby heating the liquid to steam and piping it into the businesses and homes as an ambiant heat source.
- import various endangered species from the realms into the Polaris Forest to create a wildlife sanctuary for the beasts.
- prepare tax incentives for the merchants of the city to import and sell more exotic and desired goods.
- encourage the guilds to better prepare their pupils  for the wilds of the realms through practice and  training
- balance the patrols of the uncaring Shimmering Guardsmen of Polaris with more populace friendly guard  to police the wandering bands of thugs and street  tuffs.
- temper the clergy to put the wandering spirits of  the Polaris graveyard to final rest, fire the current  gravekeeper for hitting the spice wine too often and  not doing his job.
- increase the housing for the poor and downtrodden

Istishian activity has been limited in this area at this time.

Signed by my hand, your loyal Servant... STARK

******************************************************

Nodding in affirmation, Stark invokes a prayer to Lord Flame and watches in rapture as the message is consumed in a blazing ball of fire... magically  transported to his lady and liege. 

FLAMEs in Polaris (part 1)

Billowing clouds of chilled breath spill from the dark recesses of a fur trimmed cloak as a lithe figure rushes through the ice covered streets of Polaris.  Bird tracks betray his lineage in the snowy pathways as he hurries onward.   His cold-palsied talons shakily pick the locks of a nondescript iron-bound door and throwing it aside, release a hissing stream of heat into the darkness of the alley before hastily retreating inside the back of the establishment.

Stark relishes in the warm steam exuded by the public saunas, allowing it to wash away the lingering remnants of Polaris' unforgiving icy tendrils from his bones.  The last vestiges of frosty snowflakes melt away from his crimson feathers as he makes his way down a dark escarpment to a back room.

An audible sigh of relief escapes Stark's beak as he enters the impromptu altar room of Lord Fire.  Soothing flames lick at the surrounding walls without consuming them, while the crackling fires whisper with Kossuth's warming promises.

Stark seats himself at a rickety desk, plucks a feather from his arm and sets the quill in a vial of oiled ink.  From a flame embossed scroll tube, he withdraws a length of warm parchment made of salamander skin and prepares it to receive his report.

His quill scratches hastily upon the pebbled parchment, the penned runes set in barely recognizable script... likely little more than chicken scratch to  the uneducated observer.

****Attention****

Elbryan Places the Note on the Statue and begins to read it one last time.

.                 **ATTENTION**

To all of those who seem to believe that i have made a  declaration of war, you are SADLY mistaken. maybe if people knew the whole story then you could all make conclusions. But Most of you do not and therefore should not judge anyone. I explained to Quaster what Fafnir had done. He assaulted My friends and Me.  And he openly threatened me. I spoke with Quaster about this.  I even called a temporary Truce so that the problem with Fafnir might be resolved. Quaster obviously Wants fighting as he has embraced Fafnir yet again. My fight is with Fafnir. but the CoI obviously Back him. So if you would call seeking justice for Fafnirs repeated  Assaults of me and my friends wrong. Then so be it.  That is your opinion. But maybe there are some out there that can see that Fafnir is the true Evil in this. I thank you for your time. We shall see tomarrow what Horrible rumors arrise from ThIS note.

Elbryan of the FLAME

P.S. And another thing.  Quaster, This is all up to you. If you wish War then continue to support Fafnir. If you wish a lul then reject him.  I leave the choice to you. I have made my hatred of that thing called fafnir very  obvious to you.  Yet you enbrace him again.

Elbryan Looks about at the people waiting to read his New note He walks out of the Square whispering to himself. "Fucking Warmongers, all they want to see is blood."

The FLAME

The weather outside hadn't been very good all day, so I decided to head into the local pub near Market Square. When I got there I heard much commotion from the people about the "declaration of war" that Elbryan had made that day. I was obviously very confused as the last time that I had talked with Elbryan and Quaster everything seemed peaceful enough. Quickly I removed my symbol of the Lord Kossuth so that I might gain information without people knowing which side I stood on, as I approahed the bar, feeling naked, I heard the name Fafnir mentioned.

At the bar I tried my best to stay quiet even as it was obvious that the group sided with the obviously wrong Ishtishans, but tis not in me to cause a large scene in a peaceful bar. So I just listened as they told of the Istishan church accepting Fafnir, and of Fafnir's resent threat on the life of Elbryan.

I was outraged at this news, but decided to keep my cool, so slowly moved my cloak away from the large sword and spear that I carry at all times, and put on the Holy Symbol of the Lord Kossuth. At this the onversation went silent, and the men knowin that they were overpowered slowly left the bar peacefully.

When I was alone at the bar at last, or thought I was alone at least I began to think the whole thing through to myself. If Elbryan had declared war on CoI, ar at the least had nullified the peace his life would be in danger as the fanatical Fafnir had already threatened his life.

I had a new mission, to protect Elbryan at all costs as he led the Flames to a glorious victory against the silly puddle people.

Peace rejected

Elbryan sits down at his Desk and takes out his Quil and paper  and begins to write a note.

Dear Quaster
In regards to our temporary peace.  I have decided to call it off.  I have seen Fafnir walking about this very day Thursday the 11th of Hammer, wearing the insignia of your church. I do not wish war, but if you insist on allying with  those such as fafnir.  I have no choice but to reject you and  tell My fellow Followers of Kossuth to do the same. No reply is needed I have seen all that I wish to see of you. I have had enough of your lies, and your deceit. And if it is war that must be had then it is war that  you will get.  Everything lies in you hands, but know one  thing.  As long as Fafnir is counted a friend to you.  You  will never know peace from us.

Elbryan of the FLAME

Elbryan waits a few minutes for the ink to dry and walks out  to the Market Square. Elbryan looks around and seeing nothing better to put the note on, he tacks it to the bench. Either Quaster or Menhara are bound to find it there. But he hoped that it would be Quaster.

Accusations and Lies

Stark Explained all that had occured while Elbryan had been away.  The attack in Westbridge. The unusual activity of the Rok.  The Fact that No immortal was ever seen at any time by anyone But supposedly  Quaster. These things seemed a little too convenient for Quaster.  Trying to gain a bit of Favor from the public perhaps. The more Elbryan thought about it the More he hated Quaster. He would find any way to Make FLAME look bad.  Or discredit Kossuth's name. Elbryan Being one of Kossuths Chosen Surely would have been Privy to any Plans of an Open attack on Quaster. Elbryan Makes a mental Note of these things and Stalks off to find Quaster And have Words with him.

Meetings

Stark Explained all that had happened to him to Elbryan while they chatted in the Coffee Shop. The Collection of Information was indeed helpfull and Elbryan learned much from the Young one. But his encounter with Quaster was what had worried Elbryan. Quaster was either planning something or he knows something that Elbryan or the others do not. and that could prove to be dangerous with the trial aproaching.  Elbryan Scratches out a note to his fellow FLAME members to ensure that they be especially wary of quaster and his ways for the next little while.   Elbryan look sover the Amended maps of the City of Ice and ensures himself that the choice was indeed good.  It will make an excellent stagin ground for FLAME to begin it's campaign against the Church of Istishia.  Elbryan Thinks that perhaps he should wait untill after the trial to bring his plans fully into the open, but then decides that to delay would only bring complication. Better to do this while everyone is preocupied with the trial.

PreTrial: Aberrant Behaviour (end)

"By the flames of Kossuth, why would Quaster seek to aid me in any way... especially after going out of his way to attack me, some time ago, in Hilp.  Not to mention, his attacks upon my brethren." ponders Stark. "Something is horribly amiss.  He's surely up tosome deviant scheme."  His eyes slowly close, as the soothing warmth of the fire lures him into slumber.

Later, as he quickly makes his way to meet with Atandella and Elbryan to report on his mission, Stark is halted by a small mob of people crowded about a publicly posted proclamation.

Noting that the notice bears the scales of Tyr, Stark scans the document halfheartedly, eager to be on his way.  His eyes widen in shock as the meaning of the words spider their way into his brain; he rereads the message yet again.

Unrestrained, raucous laughter echoes about the Square, causing people to turn from their gossiping and level confused looks at the mirthful bird-man.

"No wonder." gasps Stark between bouts of fits.  "This trial is indeed going to be interesting."  He continues laughing as he leaves, ready to share the  joke with the others.

PreTrial: Aberrant Behaviour (pt 2)

Quaster looks upon the thief, "I think I can do something to aid you."  The wizard quickly intones an incantation ere waiting for Stark's rebuke.  The kenku shudders in discomfort as crackling energy and an icy shroud encase his form.

"Great, just what I don't need, more ice.", snarls the chattering voice in Stark's mind.  Recalling his leaders' dictates to remain civil, Stark whispers, "Um, thanks...", his breath clouding as it passes through the freezing shield.  "I suppose this thing will melt in time." he growls under his breath.

"No fire or magical flame shall remove that ice." explains Quaster.  He smiles and instantly disappears.

Stark mutters an oath about his ill luck, and silently praises Kossuth that he can at least again be on his way.  He quickly makes his way into the inn and collapses into a lush chair, his shivering form mere inches from the welcome blaze of the hearth.

The relief of keeping his information from Quaster's notice helps to calm his initial anxiety.  Soon this inner tranquility is replaced by profound curiosity.

PreTrial: Aberrant Behaviour (pt 1)

Absorbed in thought, Stark strode briskly down the  streets of Westbridge, his gait made somewhat  irregular as he subconsciously avoided the water puddles and mud ruts which criss-crossed the path.  It  had been some time since he had been able to return to town.  Stark looked forward to a hearty meal and a  seat close to the roaring fire of the inn to warm his  chilled bones.

Stark's mission was an important one.  Scouting the  depths of the frozen city, determining locations of  strategic importance and noting the everyday problems  which afflict the citizenry.  The pack on his back  contained some updated maps as well as information  which Lord Elbryan and High Priestess Atandella would  find most interesting.

His hasty walk is suddenly halted by the appearance of  a shrouded form that seemingly springs from nowhere.   Aghast, Stark's eyes take in the dark blue flowing  robes and emblazoned shield bearing the crest of  Istishia.  A low seething hiss escapes his beak.

"Just my luck to fall across the path of Quaster, yet  again.", Stark silently curses to himself.  He quickly  flourishes his cloak, concealing his damning cache of  documents, while leveling a heated gaze upon his  opponent.

Contemplation of the Trial

With The Trial aproaching FLAME must come together and hold strong. Maybe this time Things will go better and the Church of Tyr will have enough evidence to  Convict Quaster of his crimes.  If not his crimes against the members of FLAME but against the others That were involved in the previous trial.  This Trial gives Elbryan a small degree of satisfaction, but he knows that it will fade soon after the trial as Quaster had insulted Elbryans Morals.  He dared Lay hands on a member of FLAME.  FLAME's other plans are runing smoothly.  Elbryan just waits for the go ahead from the higher powers to continue his campaign against Quaster and his misguided chuch Elbryan Sits back in his chair and thinks about these recent developements.  He knows the public may not have a very high oppinion of FLAME right now, but he hopes that maybe in time people will come to understand why FLAME is persuing the Istishian Church so strongly. with many things on his mind Elbryan pulls out his old Map of the Realms. and begins to trace out the territories to be analized.

Life?

With the Days ending and things Winding down with in the clan hall, Elbryan finally gets a chance to meditate about the last few days. As he slipps into his usual trancelike state of deep thought he feels another presence  in the back of his mind.  By the Spiritual Warmth the presence brought with it Elbryan Knew instantly Who it was.  Lord Kossuth had come to him.
"You are doing well I trust Elbryan?"  Asks Kossuth.
"I am doing Very well indeed M'Lord"  Elbryan replies still not quite sure what to say.
"Do you Feel as you have found your purpose for being here?"  Kossuth Asks casually.
"Aye I believe I have found what I was brought back from the dead to do."  replies Elbryan.
"That is well because I have decided to Give you a GiftE elbryan."  Kossuth states Plainly
"What Gift do you speak of Lord?  I want for nothing."  says Elbryan with a touch of confusion laced in his voice. "I will give back to you the one thing you have been missing for a long time Elbryan....." says Kossuth
"Your Life" And with that Elbryan awakes to his decaying body realizing just how much he really did miss being alive. He really did miss the ability to feel and taste and smell.  But was what he had seen real? It couldnt be could it. Questions raced through his mind as he attempted to meditate further for more answers.

Decifering of Lies

The Past several days had worn On Elbryan greatly.  First the Problems with Quaster and his lies. Then the premonition of his gaining his life.  And to add a bit of welcome Stress To  Plan a wedding for himself.  As the Time was Growing Neigh.  Elbryan decided to Meditate again as his premonition took all of his time in his last session. Elbryan Thought of Many things in that time. His upcoming wedding, (should I drag Kellistandra into the middle of this) Quaster took up a great deal of his thoughts on this particular night though. Why had Quaster Lied to his own Wife.  Is he that afraid of punishment. He Knew Menhara would not have condoned his actions regarding Atandella and Starke.  But All he could do was hope that The Church of Justice would do its job and take care of Quaster and put him away for a long time. He had told Khalan Everything he knew yet it seemed as it was not enough. Was attempting to Better himself in his profession. These actions seemed Like acts of war to Elbryan.  Yet he spoke of peace when he was surrounded by his followers. How Many people would Quaster leave in his wake of lies. Elbryan did however realize one thing.  The reason he was getting his life back was because of Quaster. Elbryan now Knew his purpose, and that purpose was to keep people like Quaster in check. After finally arising refreshed Mentally and Physically from his long Trance Elbryan stretched out And prepared for another long day.  There were plans to be made.  It looked as though FLAME would have  to make the next move. Elbryan Then pulls out a map And begins to map out the areas to be faught over.

The Spark of the F.L.A.M.E

::A druidess falls to her knees in front of an inn room's fireplace, raises her arms and begins to pray out loud::

m'Lord

I am Atandella, and currently I am in the jewel of the burning desert, New Thalos. I pray to you as I am in need of your guidance. I hear the water worshippers constantly speaking ill of you, and I believe they  are taking your mercy as a sign of weakness.

I know your power is great, and if you truly wished you could do away with them. There are more than worship you as I do, and I wish to seek them out. allow them to see that without you this world would be cold and dark.

I beg you, m'Lord, to allow me to come to Westbridge. So that I may be with you, be in your light, and learn more of your ways, so that I may profess your true words to the masses.

m'Lord do bless me, and give me this chance that I may bring them to you and your firey ways. I will continue to pray for a sign from you, m'Lord. I wait patiently for an answer to my prayers.