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.