A new story .. Pt 3

My return was somewhat less spectacular. I returned to a small grove of cherry blossom trees under a beautiful night sky that I had all but forgotten. Although returned I had been changed. My demonic encounter had changed my form and structure I was a Vampire. Although made of dead ungrowing flesh, I still continued developing, my body seeking to return to its origional state before my demise. I was 21 when I died, and as such am sure I still have some developing to do. I am Seraphim Shadoween. I Exist. And this is my story... Seraphim Shadoween.

A new story .. Pt 2

Although I wont go into detail in this memoir I will say this about him Solomon is a Demon Essence, of the purest Malificence. He has plagued my life and the life of my father, sister Zariel, and the lives of all we hold dear. It is his hand that held the blade that ended my mortal life, and began my exile into the darkness. About 5 years ago my father and I disappeared from this realm for a long time almost 3 full years. I went to battle Solomon, and win from him my sisters freedom from his torture. My father went to stop me. He told me it was too dangerous and that we could not hope to win. Coward. The truth is I knew I couldn't win, but how could I sit by and watch him destroy all I loved. The battle was long, but one sided. The demon was more than I could have imagined and it was only my exceptional speed that allowed me to survive as long as I did. In the end however it made no difference. In the end I lay dead. My father returned to the realms after returning Solomon to his prison and brought with him the news of my death. The world here had changed... loved ones disappearing, or changing... places and names different... and most notably my beloved Valkyrie's departure for the divine realm.

A new Story..Pt 1

Every life has a story... and every story... a beginning. This is mine. My name, is Seraphim Shadoween. I am the son of a god. I wont go into the dark story that is my past or the unique events that conspired to create me. What I will tell you is that I am not what you would expect. I am an Esper. Filled with magical powers I didn't ask for and don't understand. I am a Vampire. A dead thing, walking the night and feeding on the blood of the living. I am both of these things, yet these are but words. They aren't WHO I am they don't say anything about ME. I am not a heartless killer, or an insane tyrant, or a valiant knight, or a noble Saint. I am none of these things yet the element of them all are in me, as with in all creatures. I live by my choices. A very long time ago I forbade my father from interfering in my life. His actions are known well to those who watch such happenings, and to those who don't? Be thankful. I see my father, Lord Sylus Shadoween, as the worlds greatest let down and failure. The man has led a life of suffering and pain. But instead of suffering alone as he should have, he drags all he loves into it and shares with them this pain. Many people out there disagree with me, but this isn't their story... My life origionally was very happy. I knew the love of the Goddess Hanali, and worshipped her freely and happily. I was engaged to a lovely Angel warrior and my skills as a warrior were, in my opinion, exemplary. But this all came to a crashing halt thanks to one man. Solomon.

Aquisitions (III)

After a long journey down the blackened corridor, and the quick search of many old rooms and personal quarters along its length the StrifeLord of Intrigue reached a grand summoning chamber. Its vaulted ceiling depicted great victories and heroic stories of the rise of Cyric and its walls were carefully and artistically painted with murals, faded but still evident, of the conquests and exploits of faithful of the One and All. At the center of the room, a grand black throne stood, with the skeletal remains of some long forgotten Strife Wizard seated upon it. More notably, the hands of the figure clutched a dusty but undeniably powerful artifact. A black staff bearing no marking aside from the silver spiral circling its entire length. After recasting his detection spell, the figure slowly crept forward, toward the black throne, and the treasure its seated occupant, held. Seeing no danger, even after a long pause at the throne itself, the figure reached for the staff. As the StrifeLord grasped the Staff, the skeletal figure seemed to leap out of its reverie and begin to cast a spell. The StrifeLord reacted quicker and drew his silver capped rod from its belthoop and dashed it explodingly into the side of the creature's head. The antimagic of the rod broke through the creature's defences and crushed its skull instantly. The form crumpled to the floor in a pile of rags and bones. Replacing the rod and picking up a few pieces of the skull he remembered some words Raistlin had once uttered. Never be too dependant on magic my friend, for it can be the downfall of our kind. Smiling to himself on how his antimagic rod had pierced the creature's mantles, it was only too true. At this he looked at the object in his other hand with renewed interest. Welcome Setzer, the staff telepathically spoke. You are the new Magister. Finally, Setzer thought. We can truly begin what we so long have desired to do. S.

Aquisitions (II)

Now in a large hallway, and up to his knees in running water the cloaked form articulated a few arcane words to a light spell and saw his robes runes increase in their intensity. A couple slight sharp hand gestures and he floated above the frigid underground stream. His detection spell still active, he proceeded down the hall and avoided or disarmed any wards or traps found and travelled down the tunnels he had once walked as a neonate of the Prince of Lies. He came to a large room that seemed to list to one side, as if the entire plateau had shifted in a great quake. One half lay dry, with a doorway clearly visible and the other lay in deep water, its doorway nearly completely submerged beneath the watery depths. Concentrating on the now much clearer whispers in his mind, he discerned that the dry path was the one to take. Relieved, he landed lightly on the dry floor and after a brief scan of the archway, and the hall beyond he moved gingerly through it. A thunderous snap sounded as his protective spells absorbed the brunt of the hidden ward. Stunned, and sent sprawling he shook off the daze and regained his senses. Muttering an oath not so polite to Raistlin's heritage he narrowed his eyes at the now apparent ward. It was definitely Raistlin's, the stylized 'R' being a clear indication. Watching in silence as it slowly faded he scanned the room again as he recast his protective mantle against lightning. He stood and stretched his statically charged muscles and then continued, more cautiously, down the corridor to a dim glow at the other end. He found himself standing in a large circular room with several other exits, some viable and others collapsed and impassible by normal means. The glow emanated from a single sphere hanging in the air at the center of the chamber. The chamber seemed to silence the mind whispers that had brought the StrifeLord here. Glancing at the other exits, there was no indication of the correct one to take. Most certainly, the wrong direction would lead to several wards and potentially fatal injuries. He unstrung a symbol from his belt and sneered as he gazed upon the emblem bearing a Flame surrounded by Eight Stars. A Holy symbol of Mystra recently taken from the corpse of a high ranking Wizard within that faith. Completing another arcane phrase, the object softly glowed and levitated from his hand. It suddenly cracked and fell into dust on the floor. The Lord looked at the marking the dust had formed. An arrow pointing directly to the first exit to his left. S.

Aquisitions (I)

Lightning flashed and struck the earth with a resounding crack and a lone figure, clad in a dark cloak stood on the massive stone escarpment that was once an ancient clanhold of the Church of Cyric. Once known as the original Church of Strife, its towers pierced the skies with spear-like points and its battlements loomed over the surrounding country like a great and terrible shadow. Now, it was no more then a massive mound of rubble and recollections of a forgotten age. Its battlements reduced to piles of rock covered in moss and dirt, and its glories and treasures buried deep under the plateau that was now buffeted by chill winds and ceaseless rain. As the figure picked his way through the surface remains of walls, hallways, and rooms he began to recall several fond memories of his time as a member, then leader, lost, then found again devotee of Cyric. These memories had brought this silent and powerful Cyricist to this lost place. As the wind rushed through the cavernous openings of the plateau it caused shrill banshee-like cries to echo in the mountainous region. The traveller paused a moment, and listened, his fine pointed ears heeding the calls of the tormented souls still bound to the castle. His sharp icy blue eyes scanned the large room he was in. The old library of the keep now stood as a burnt husk, with its ceiling open to the elements. Rainwater cascaded down the walls giving the slick black stone an almost liquid appearance. It was not the water that caught the figure's attention, but the way that it seemed to collect in a shallow at one end of the room and swirl in a tiny whirlpool. Had it not been raining, he might not have noticed the hidden and cracked seal over the secret staircase. His thin pale lips curled into a smirk at Raistlin's ingenuity. Raistlin knew his friend had always loved the rain, and therefore would be most likely to understand its nature and its secrets. The form drew a few pinches of dust from within his the confines of his robes. Careful to keep it from the elements he invoked a spell of water destruction and watched passively as the water in the shallow faded into nothingness. He quickly moved to the seal and uttered another spell, this one of detection to discern any wards present. None of consequence being found, he uttered a third and final spell and was rewarded as the Dark Sun seal descended, into a spiral staircase which he quickly walked down. Not long after reaching the bottom, the figure watched the staircase elevate itself back into its dark seal at the center of the library. S. 

-9- Loose Ends

It was four weeks since Bosch set out for the northern lands, and at the start of the fifth week, Clausius received a message. Thanking the kenku courier once again, Clausius opened the brown envelope and scanned over the letter written hastily on parchment. "Is that from Bosch?" asked Arrhenius as he stood nearby packing away the contents of a shelf. "Yes, and it is very good news that I must share with everyone." Clausius pulled himself up atop his desk and stood out over the main collection. One by one, the Keepers turned to acknowledge him as he cleared his throat and read the letter out loud: Keepers, I cannot begin to explain how, but I have reached the end of the Long Road where I now am given word that there are several abandoned mines available for our cause. I have also met an interesting individual who has joined us in hopes that we can help him out as well. He is a podrikev of exceptional intellect and command of the weave, and I am certain that with his help, we can have the archives reassembled very quickly. I wish I could give more detail, but Dagon and I are preparing to leave for the mines as I write this to you. By the time this reaches the archives in Myth Drannor, we will have found a place and will most likely be on our way back to help in any way we can with the move. An appropriate spell anchor will be left for our transportation needs. With warmest regards, Bosch Muffled conversations erupted from the Keepers as Clausius lifted his hand to gain their attention once again. "I have communicated with the Wizards Council and they have concluded that Bosch is who he claims to be. Success in his quest has proven him to own a true Keeper spirit, and I would now ask that the faction discuss the terms of his reinstatement as leader of the Keepers of Antiquity." The conversation resumed among the faction as Clausius stepped down from the desk. As he made his way through the collection, he passed the rows of boxes and displaced artifacts. "It is rather sad to see the archives in such a state," commented Traelith as Clausius passed by. "I sympathize with you Trae, but greater things necessitate change. All of us working together now offers the resources to create something more splendid than ever dreamed of before. We just need the courage to uproot ourselves from how things are." Traelith nodded as Vaishu broke into the circle. "Clausius, dont you think one month is not enough time to have all of this moved and resorted? I mean, we can get it there in a week, but putting it all back together is going to take some time." Nodding, Clausius replied, "And that is where we have been very lucky to have found a podrikev. With Dagons help, we will have it assembled very quickly." "And what future does this place have once it is empty?" asked Dusk. Clausius stopped at this question and turned his head. "There are some loose ends to tie here in the ruins. I have an appointment with my dreams."

The Harper Heralds

Harpers I have wandered much of the realms and feel a calling to another Harper cause. That of the Herald. I feel that it has become my time to join their ranks. As a Haprer Herald I will continue our work but in a different way. I will work for the best in the realm through politics, counseling, and recruiting new Harpers when I can. As a Herald I will retire from active hunting of evil and instead try to draw better from them. I have always been an idealist and I know that there is good in everyone the problem is to draw this inherant from each person and especially rulers. Bruce 

-8- Sleight of Hand (Pt. 2)

A small lantern hung from the center support pole of the tent. A tall man with a pointed moustache sat across from Dagon, who crouched to meet him eye to socket. Bosch took a seat on the small crate which was nearby, watching as the man began to set up his table. "Branam must think highly of you two to offer you admittance. I am Suglios the game leader, and I am here for your amusement" he said as he dusted off the table and smiled. Reaching from beneath the table, he pulled out three tortoise shells and a small ball of string which he placed in front of them. "The game is simple: I will shuffle the ball beneath one of the shells, and when I am done, you tell me where it is. If you guess correctly, I will offer you my help. If not, then you will offer me your platinum." Suglios smiled and covered the ball with one of the shells. "And despite our hospitality, we do not take kindly to those who try to skip out on a deal. So what do you guys say?" Bosch stood up, but Dagon quickly pulled him back down. "I can do this Bosch," he said. Though Bosch knew this was a scam, he also wanted to trust Dagon, and reluctantly agreed to the terms. "Very well gentlemen!" Suglios said as he began to shuffle the shells about. "Watch the ball carefully as it moves from one end of the table to another..." Suglios began to ramble as Dagon watched his movements intently. Bosch paid little attention as he sat there rather unimpressed at the display. After what seemed like a long time, Suglios stopped moving the shells and leaned back proclaiming, "Now tell me which shell the ball is hiding." "The middle shell," Bosch whispered to Dagon. "I saw him put it under the shell with that chip at the bottom." Dagon shook his head. "No, the middle is too obvious. It is not the middle shell." Bosch sighed. "How much platinum do you have on you Dagon?" he asked. "Just a few platinum bearings in my waist. Why do you ask?" "Well, I sure as hell am not paying for your wrong guess. You had better not need those bearings." Dagon let out a puff of smoke. "Well gentlemen? Have you made a decision?" Suglios asked. "Yes. I would like to tell you where your ball is." Dagon replied. Bosch covered his face. "Go on then my metal friend." "The middle shell would be too obvious a choice, so I would then guess it is either to your left or right. Seeing as how you are left handed, I can assume you would pull the heavier shell, and thus the shell with the ball, towards your strong arm, but you made twice as many moves to the right as you did to the left. That leaves the right shell. But on the other hand, is your left hand, which was too busy holding the ball to pull the shells any more than necessary to keep the ball hidden." "I beg your pardon?" Suglios asked in astonishment. "Your left hand, where the ball of string is conveniently tied. You pulled it right out from beneath the shell in the first move to the right. That is where your ball is located." Dagon proclaimed with satisfaction. Bosch looked up to see the troubled face of Suglios searching the face of the podrikev which had no expression to give. With a sigh, the man opened his left hand to reveal the ball of string. Bosch could do nothing but laugh. "You two are the first to beat me in seven months. I am humbled to say the least." Suglios cleared the table and leaned forward with his hands folded together. "As I am a man of my word, tell me what you need of me and it will be done." Dagon began to explain their situation and how they needed to reach Mirabar within a few days--something that both knew was near impossible. Suglios nodded with a smile, "Say no more, for I have the answer you need." Reaching over, Suglios produced a jewel-encrusted box. He placed it on the table and unlatched it, turning it towards them. "There is your answer," he said as Bosch pulled forth a golden horn from within the box. "What is this," he asked. "It is a unicorn's horn. Wizards such as yourselves would know what to do with such a rare and valuable thing. Cast your gate spell while holding it and you will not fail." Bosch and Dagon thanked Suglios and Branam for their hospitality and entertainment. With the unicorn's horn, they would reach their destination before the coming of the next day, bringing the Keepers that much closer to finding a place for their cause.

-8- Sleight of Hand (Pt. 1)

Bosch and Dagon traveled the Long Road on foot, as neither was very fond of horses. It was five days since the two left Rassalantar, and their journey had taken them through two more towns and out of the protection of Waterdeep, where the land was lawless. To the east, the Hills of Jundar rolled into the horizon and to the west the edge of the Sword Mountains gave way to long stretches of plains and forest. This was one of the longest stretches of the road, where two days were required just to reach the next town of Triboar. They were aiming to be at the gates by morning. "Do you think the Keepers can help me?" Dagon asked as they walked. "I think if anyone can help you, they can," Bosch replied. "Some years ago we found a wizard's text in the Ruined City of Myth Drannor that detailed spell formulae for golem magics. I spent the better part of a year deciphering them with little success, but the text along with my notes should still be at the archives. If we can finish the work, then I know we can help you out." Dagon smiled as podrikevs do in the most peculiar manner. "Then I will do my best to help the Keepers and their cause. If we keep on this road and at this pace, we will reach Mirabar in another week, and there you will see these mines I speak of." The dwarf swore at Dagon's assessment of the situation. "We don't have a week to get there, much less get there and back. We are going to need some help." "Maybe Branam can help us," Dagon replied. Bosch stopped and turned back to see the podrikev reading a wooden sign. On the sign was painted the words 'Branam's Traveling Show' and it pointed to a small path down to a group of tents in the distance. Before Bosch could consider it any longer, he turned to see Dagon halfway towards the tents, talking to someone. "Well do consider my offer metal fellow," the man said as Bosch sprinted towards the two. "I will pass Branam, but thank you. Me and my friend need transportation to Mirabar. Do you know where we can find such a thing?" The man laughed as he swirled his cane. "Well, I can tell you to try hitching a ride with one of the caravans that run the trade route from Waterdeep, but without platinum, you have about as much of a chance getting them to agree as you would have if you were a troll." Bosch glared at Branam, who stood a good foot taller than him. "C'mon Dagon. We're wasting our time here." "Whoa, now wait there fellows. I never said I couldn't help you. Step into the booth of chance, and my friend Suglios will make you a deal you cannot resist." Branam pulled back the opening to the nearest tent which sat beneath a battered, wooden sign that read 'Suglios' House of Chance'. Before Bosch could reply, Dagon was already inside sitting across from a tall man in a black coat. Reluctantly, Bosch joined him.

Inconsistency

"Well that is certainly strange..." /What is?/ Tundra looked over at Icehawk as he spoke. Icehawk scratched his chin and turned in the chair toward Tundra. The two were sitting in the cockpit of the FreonIIC. Icehawk had just completed a telepathic conversation using his crystal with yet another Apostle of Sune. "Tundra, do you remember that gnome I made that crystal for?" /Rhea? Sure, you nearly knocked yourself out in the process. If not for-/ "I can't find her anywhere." Icehawk cut off Tundra's bragging. /What do you mean?/ Tundra blinked as he looked at Icehawk. "Ive made inquiries everywhere. Even the members of her order dont know where she is and no ones seen her recently. I meant to see how the crystal was working out for her, so I started asking around casually, but no ones seen her." Icehawk puzzled for awhile. It was true. He had asked Tenchi, Hravngud, and Gazrielle, but in fact every Sunite he spoke to was at a loss to know where she was. Hed been asking around for a couple days. Why would she go somewhere without telling even her fellows? Strange happenings indeed. He stood, stretching his legs, then left the cockpit, walking further aft in the ship. /Where we going?/ Tundra asked, nonchalantly following. "Well as I do with all my inventions, I imbue a magical essence, a signature if you will, that marks it as mine. The crystal I gave her is no different. Maybe I can scrye the crystal's location." Icehawk entered the field lab, walking to a silver bowl filled with a strange liquid. Carefully bringing it off the shelf, he set it lightly to counter-top. /Well it's worth a shot... Are you worried?/ "The situation smacks of something dark. I am not particularly worried, just curious." He took his spellbook from bag he had dropped in the room earlier. Opening it to the spell he needed, he gestured over the bowl. He chanted the spidery words of magic, letting the Weave carry his spell. Completing the chant, he stared into the bowl, concentrating on the specific crystal, willing to know its location. Tundra hopped up, his front paws on the countertop, and looked into the bowl as well. "Well let's see..."

Written feelings

Retyon sat at the desk in his room and quietly wrote in a book, the quill forming perfect lines. The ink drying immediately, as his hand moved across the page. "It seems like a long time ago that she left us. I do try really hard to remember what she was like.. but people don't talk about her much and I'm almost afraid to bring it up. I know she loved us and I keep seeing her.. in alleys and shadows. I know it's not really her, but I can't help it. I miss her so much. I see others with families and I try to remember what it was like, but I can't." Retyon set his quill in his ink bottle for a moment and looked at his hands, not sure if he should write what he wanted to next. He reached his hand forward, again picking up the quill. "I ran into Sfen last night. He told me he tried to reach Mom, and that he did. She said she loved us. He wants Ra and I to come visit. I'm just really confused and don't know what to do. Maybe I'll figure it out." Retyon set the quill down and crawled into his bed, leaving the book open, in the hopes that he would write more tomorrow.

-7- Gathering (Pt. 2)

The tavern was dirty and smelled of orcs and urine. Dusk covered his nose, but Blasko nudged him, saying "That my friend is a sign of quality. We're going to get some really good ale tonight!" Arrhenius led them to a large table in the corner where two more figures sat. As they approached, the lamplight flickered across their faces, and Vaishu immediately recognized them as being Traelith and Ruhl. "You guys assembled some muscle together here," Blasko smiled as he took a seat. "Hope we got a perty serving wench today." "I beg your pardon?" said a voice from nearby which made Blasko jump from his chair. Loven appeared at the other side of the table, hiding a grin as she made herself known to the newcomers. "Uhhh, I didn't say anything," he replied as his face turned red. "That's better," she said as she unfolded a map across the table, using the glasses as paperweights. "Since everyone knows one another here, let's get right down to business shall we?" Quickly taking a seat, Vaishu and Dusk leaned in with the others as Loven began to explain the route known as the Eastern Highway while tracing it with her finger. "With an airship, we can make the trip in just under a day. With magic, I can make it in a few hours, but we don't have the luxury of either right now, so it has been decided to assemble a caravan to haul the archives north." "Have you thought about using dragon mounts to fly the archives out?" Arrhenius asked as he took a sip from his ale. "Dragons are expensive, inadequate to haul the amount of things we plan on moving, and unless you know of a good trainer, I'd just as soon not deal with them." Loven replied as she continued. "So earlier today, Ruhl found some merchant traders who would help us in return for some information. They can provide about 10 horse drawn carts among other things." "But wait," Traelith intervened. "I don't have a firm understanding of the arcane, but isn't it the ruins that keeps you from transporting things by magic?" "Yes, which is why we're only going to take the carts as far as the summit of the Storm Horn Mountains." Loven pointed at a dark area on the map. "There we will transport most of the less sensitive things over, using a wizard on the other end as an anchor point. That's assuming we have a place to move the archives to." "I've been assured that it's being taken care of," Vaishu replied. "In any event, all of us will set out for Myth Drannor bright and early tomorrow morning. I can knock off two days from our journey with a gate spell, and then we hoof it ahead of the caravan and get everything packed and ready to go." Loven replied as she leaned back in her chair. For a few moments, everyone sat silent as they thought about the plan. "I hear there are bandit along the mountain trails. Do you see that as being a problem Loven?" asked Vaishu. "Not really. After all, we brought the muscles. Right Blasko?" Loven laughed as the titan pretended to ignore her. After several hours of lighthearted conversation, the keepers retired to their rooms one by one. The next morning the band of keepers met in Waymoot Square and set out southward towards Trollbark. Ruhl's merchants came through as expected, meeting them just south of the Trade Way. With Loven's help, the group was transferred east of the summit of the Storm Horn Mountains, which was already covered with a thin layer of frost. Two long and taxing days later, they emerged near the Temple of the Morning Sun just south of Drannor Forest. The keepers had reached the place which started it all.

-7- Gathering (Pt. 1)

Three days and two airship rides later, the three adventurers landed in a field just south of Waterdeep on a cold autumn afternoon. It had been a slow and tiresome journey that they were only halfway from completing. "Thanks again for the ride," Dusk said as he hopped down from the airship ladder. Vaishu and Blasko were already picking up their bags they had tossed over just seconds prior. "Don't mention it guys, and thanks for the beer!" The pilot waved as he secured the hatch for takeoff. With Vaishu in the lead, the three began their walk across the overgrown field as the highwind lifted off behind them. "Do you know where we are going?" Dusk asked Vaishu as they made the turn onto the Trade Way road. "Well, Clausius gave me instructions to meet up with some keepers in Waterdeep, though he didn't say where or when." "This will be interesting" Blasko said as he walked past the two without stopping. Dusk shrugged at the notion as they continued northward. Three hours past sunset, they reached the gates of the City of Spendors. The smell of burning wood filled the air as the cold wind bore down upon the city. Vaishu led the party along, not sure where he was going himself. They reached a large square with a sign designated the names of streets. The larger road ran north and south, while a smaller, darker road stretched west. They took the latter, which wound around several of the lower district, ending them conveniently at a tavern called 'The Thirsty Throat.' A shady titan character stood outside flipping a trinket in the air while chewing on a length of dry leather. "Interest you gentlemen in a game of trivia?" he asked them as he looked up. "No thanks," replied Dusk. "You might be able to help us though. We are looking for..." The stranger lifted his hand. "I think you'll like this game. All you need to do is guess the thing I will now describe." Vaishu sighed, looking up at the rising moon. "It is small, round, and bears the likeness of a ruined city inset with two laurels and a single star. Seen anything like this before?" Vaishu looked over at Dusk, who at the same time looked over at Vaishu. Almost at the same time, the two reached into their pocket and produced their tokens, which bore the resemblance that the stranger described. A few seconds later, Blasko found his token and held it out for all to see. "C'mon in fellows. We've been waiting for you," the titan said as he looked up and removed his hood. "You don't know how much of a relief it is to see you, Arrhenius," replied Vaishu as the three followed the mercenary inside.

Punishment

Edea looked at the doors to her matron's temple. Her heart sank. She knew that her pnuishment for leaving the sity was death. She also knew her matron would have no qualms in following through with this deed, especially since Edea did not worshi p Lloth. She worshipped Eilistraee, and that was an embarassment to the Baenre House. The ruling house of Menzoberranzen. Edea swallowed hard, a twinge of fear crept through her like painful needles prckiung her skin. Tears formed in her eyes. Her head hung low, soft tendrils of ringlets matted to her wet face. Edea placed her hands on the temple doors and slowly pushed them open. Edea stared ahaed and found her matron glaring evily at her. "Usstan kyorl ussta disgrace d'natha dalhar uriu yutsu'. Vel'bol gall dos inbal leaving, Xun dos kyor'ol ussa ulu tlu thankful whol dosst yutsu?" "Nau Ilharess." Edea said quietly. "Doer ghil lueth harl'il'cik." Her matron ordered loudly. "Harl'il'cik p'los Lloth, Harl'il'cik p'los l'j'nesst il speaks areion. Eilistraee orn noa ilta floh'l." Edea walked forawrd, her head hung low, her eyes to the ground. "Xas ilharess, izil dos daewl." Edea kneeled at the bottom of the throne. Heavy sobbing coming from within her, her breathe irregular, her shoulders heaving. The matron stood up and looked down upon her daughter in hatred. She turned to her side and took a dagger with the hand le depicting that of a spider. She turned back to Edea, holding the dagger in the air over Edea's head. She swung the dagger down hard into Edea's back. Edea cried out in pain and fell to the ground. The matron bent down over Edea as if to gloat and uttered in a low low voice. "Dos orn bleed ulu streea ." she then slit edea's throat and stormed out of the temple.

-6- The Broken Machine (Pt. 2)

"Ahh. A dwarf! Such a long time since I've seen a dwarf!" Bosch had seen at least two more since his arrival in Rassalantar and considered asking it if it had lived in a cave its whole life, but then the answer may very well have been yes. "Yes, I am a dwarf, and would I be right to guess you are a podrikev?" It bobbed its head in agreement. "There are not many of your kind left in the realms. Is there any particular reason why you were crawling around beneath my innroom?" he asked. The podrikev looked down. "It is cold and dry there, and while it can postpone my eventual failure, I had to find other means. I am broken." Bosch looked the podrikev up and down. It was shorter than most he remembered and badly rusted, though its brain seemed to be working normally. In fact, it articulated speech very well for most. "How are you broken," Bosch asked. The podrikev shuddered as it rose up from its resting position. With a loud grinding sound, it moved its arms and legs until smoke began to rise from them. "I am seven years due for maintenance and three years past my life expectancy. It was my hope that expending the energy to come up to the surface would afford me the opportunity to find someone who could help. Do you know golem magic?" "I think I know some people that may be able to help you out," Bosch said after a moment. "How fit are you to accompany me north?" The podrikev looked northward and then back at Bosch. "I think can make the journey. How far are we going?" Bosch smiled at the question, because he didnt have a good answer for it. "Your guess is as good as mine how far I need to go, but I cannot return without finding something." Bosch looked out over the Long Road as it disappeared into the darkness. The moon rose high in the sky as it waited for the sun to chase it away once again. "Tomorrow at first light, I will set out. If you are here then, I will tell you more about my quest and you can accompany me. My friends can help you." In reply, the podrikev bobbed its head and let out a whirl. As Bosch walked back to the inn, he turned to ask the podrikev his name. "The gnome who built me gave me the same name as the gnome who I once was. The name was Dagon. You can call me Dagon." "Well, Dagon. I will see you shortly then." "Shortly, yes."

-6- The Broken Machine (Pt. 1)

The silence of the night broke with the sound of grinding metal. Bosch darted up from his sleep just as it ended without the slightest hint of where it came from. It took a few moments for the dwarf to realize where he was at--a feeling he was very familiar with now. With the least amount of commotion, Bosch slipped his hand into his bag and felt around for his ball of light. Finding its smooth contours, he sat and waited Vwrrrrr... Bosch stood up, pulling the ball of light out such that he was temporarily blinded by the sudden brightness. The innroom was empty. He listened for a moment, but there was nothing but the sounds of the insects outside. Sitting back down, he covered the ball of light and leaned back against the wall with heavy eyes. Thinking about the sound, he could almost place it. It was a sound that reminded him of when he was young and working in the mines. The ore carts when full would travel with such momentum that the operator would have to apply the brakes, which made a rather awful noise, accompanied by the smell of charred leather. But then it didn't sound like grinding metal. What was it that he remembered? In later years, they brought in machines to do the mining, as the inhospitable conditions began to take their toll on the dwarves and their health. They were fashioned from metal and given humanoid shapes and sentience. To each was assigned a dwarf who would be in charge of maintaining them by keeping them properly oiled and enchanted with golem magics such that their nonmetal brains would not die. On occasion they would expel exhaust though a relief port on their backside. The smell was near unbearable, almost as unpleasant as the sound they made... Vrwwrrrr... The sound woke Bosch from his dreaming. There was no mistaking it: it was coming from beneath him and much fainter than the first two. Leaning down, Bosch put his ear to the cold wooden floor. The faint sound of clanking metal could be heard echoing from below. Bosch followed it as it moved towards the door and out into the tavern. Vwwrrr..rr..ckkk Feeling no malice, Bosch opted to knock against the floor. It was solid, suggesting there were no rooms beneath him. And then it knocked back. "Thrun? Fick?" a neutral voice called out from below. "Anyone up there?" Bosch was decidely puzzled at this new development. It's not every day voices call out from underground. "Umm...Do you need assistance?" he asked. "Do you need an assistant?" the voice replied. Bosch was taken back by the reply. "What if I say yes?" he asked. The sounds became louder and Bosch followed the movements outside where they made a beeline for the road. It traveled near as fast as his dwarven legs could carry him and he was quickly winded just as it stopped short of the Keep Woods. There the ground began to rumble as a mound of dirt rose up. In a few moments, a metal arm broke through, followed by another. A head poked out, and then a large metal body. As it heaved itself out of the hole, several bare rotors expelled dirt from its underarm. With a quiver, the loud noises ceased, and glowing eyes looked at Bosch from two skeletal sockets.

-4- Keepers and Demons

It took less than two days to for Vaishu to find a lead. It was in the small city of Stonebow Dale that a local shopkeeper had sold supplies to two mercenaries who called themselves keepers. They were headed into the city of storms down through the Mithril Caves where Vaishu knew right away their destination. Gathering his things, he made the descent into the city known as Darrowmere on the seventh hour of nightfall. It was less than an hour before the gates of the city appeared in the haze, shrouded beneath a dense mass of clouds and darkness. Darrowmere was a city of extraordinary beauty, though cursed to forever dwell in the shadows of the rainstorms. For those who called it home, the rain was less curse than circumstance and the strider felt out of place, being the only one who ran for cover under the eaves of the buildings. It was just east of the southern entrance that he found the mansion he was looking for. Accounts document the story of Hawke and the demon which was imprisoned in his basement --A demon of great power and evil. And of course as such stories go, a demon that guarded a valuable antiquity. The doors of the mansion remained ajar, suggesting someone had recently been through it. To the right stood the massive door to the basement, which was also left half open, freshly picked as indicated by the scars on the lockhead. The stairs descended into a immensely dark and cold basement which sounded of strange noises and faint echoes. As he traversed them, he saw the glowing eyes of curious creatures darting back and forth through the darkness, though they were seeming more scared of him than he was of them. The echoes grew louder and it was perhaps halfway through that he realized they were voices. He followed these voices to an opening in the ground where two demon corpses sat amidst a pile of empty vials. Looking inside, the faint glows revealed the images of three figures: two mercenaries and the demon who towered above them flailing its arms and swinging its tail as it swooped back and forth on leathery wings of blood red. The mercenaries circled the demon equidistant from one another, while taking turns striking it with their weapons. The larger of the two held a pair of spears with a length of rope tied to his wrist. This he would use like a javelin at times, tossing it forward and drawing it in, but then when the demon faced him, he would wield it like a halberd, parrying the blows with one, while dealing them with another. The smaller mercenary wielded two swords, one of which shimmered like so many piles of treasure and resisted the blood like oil to water such that the blade never appeared dull. His other sword was a bit shorter and blue as ice as he used it to parry while striking with the first. For several minutes Vaishu watched the display from his vantage point while entertaining thoughts of joining in, but it remained too well orchestrated to toss in another variable. Within a few more minutes, the shorter mercenary dealt a fatal blow to the demon, and it fell to the ground such that the whole place shook with a great sound. "Drumroll" yelled the larger, titan mercenary to the first, who began to simulate a drumroll with his swords as he made a poor attempt at articulating the sound. "And nothing!" was the reply as the titan spit at the corpse in frustration. It also here that Vaishu could no longer hide his amusement as he let out a laugh from above. "Need a hand out of there?" he asked the titan, who he could now clearly identify as being Blasko. "Sure!" Blasko replied as he reached for Vaishus outstretched arm. "We can just leave Dusk down here." "Hey!" yelled the human merc, who quickly pulled himself out of the hole in fear of the others making true to their suggestion. "So you guys got time for a break?" asked Vaishu.
"Always," replied Dusk. Blasko nodded in agreement, and the three made their way out of the mansion.

Spoiled Plans

Standing out of her crouch, Rhea eyed the stone before giving a quick nod and setting it into the pouch on her belt. Cinching the small bag, she tucked the ties behind her belt and grinned. The pond shimmered in the sun before her, and with a final glance down its shore she turned and stuffed her hands into her pockets. There was a bounce in her step as she left the park and started down the road toward the jeweler's. Reaching for another pouch on her belt, the gnome slipped her fingers in and withdrew a handful of coins. Eyeing them, she nodded to herself. That should be enough, she figured, slipping them back into the pouch. A few gemstones, a few painted stones, and she would have the makings for another of her creations. She thought of making it mechanical this time, a toy for the children she had seen roaming the Sunite hall. Back in her room she had the metal she would need, but she didn't have the colors of gems she wanted. Turning down an alley as a shortcut, she started to reach for her tablet to prepare her request. With a grin, she let her arms drop back to her sides; she didn't need it any more. The creation Icehawk had given her allowed her thoughtspeech, and she still marveled at such a large gift from a virtual stranger. Little did he know how much it meant -- Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed her from behind, pulling her into the shadows of the alley. There was a flash of motion in front of her and a hand clasped her choker, removing it before she could call out. She struggled, kicking backward and meeting only air as the grip on her tightened. A cloth was pressed over her nose and mouth; instinctively, she took a deep breath, inhaling a strange scent deeply. She coughed, pulling her head backward, and the cloth was pressed closer to her face. Silently she cursed herself for not carrying her dagger, for thinking herself safe without it. Twisting, she tried to pull away, one of her pouches catching and ripping open. The stones she'd collected spilled out onto the ground around her. With a fast motion, her head was pressed forward into the cloth, and she took another deep breath of the strange substance. The alley around her began to spin, and she slumped backward into her captive's grasp as she fell unconscious.

-5- Correspondence

Clausius closed his eyes and the world fell around him like a house of cards. Without focus, the thoughts rebuilt themselves into visions, though fuzzy and lacking in substance. As verified by the Entity, these visions were prophetic, but what good was a prophecy if the writing remained undecipherable? For perhaps the better part of a year he had them off and on. When luck was with him, he could make out images, and sometimes faces, though they were often confused with people he had known such that it was difficult to tell at any given time whether the face he remember was from a dream or from his memory. One face in particular haunted his dreams for many months. She was a young girl, with jet black hair and dark robes; human in appearance, though the wicked gleam in her eyes betrayed a heritage that was anything but innocent... A knock at the door broke Clausius from his dreams. It was well past the ninth hour, yet someone found it necessary to pay him a visit. Reluctantly, he opened the door to the face of a familiar kenku courier bearing a large scroll tube. "Pardon the intrusion Clausius, but this message came with the instruction that it be delivered immediately upon receipt." Clausius nodded and accepted the tube, which bore the seal of the Wizard's Guild along its side. It was the reply he was waiting for, within a week of sending it as his friends in the guild were always quick to answer his correspondence. "Come in a moment," he replied to the courier, who was soaked from the rain. Clausius walked to the main archives, with the kenku close behind, and made his way over to the desk which still sat cluttered with various objects. Scooting them to the side, he broke the seal on the tube and tipped it over. A roll of heavy parchments fell out onto the table, each bearing the seal of the Guild. The first he read near the fire: In response to your letter received on the second week of Eleasias, we have convened and discussed your inquiries: To your first question, by our methods, this one you call Bosch is who he says he is. His records in the guild are also in tact, as there was never a claim made to his wealth. We shall expect a visit from him shortly to have his records updated or otherwise removed from the repository. To your second question, it is curious you know of the details of our encounter with this girl you so vividly describe. She was declined the opportuntiy to study here due to an impure bloodline that we cannot place, though her skills with the weave are exceptional. Attached is our report on this girl, which you should find more informative that I can make it to be. It is also convenient that you should send us this inquiry, as we have something that we need to discuss with you and your faction. Some recent information has come to our attention concerning the imbalance of powers in the realms. While we would like to have you come in person to the High Tower, we realize that you are not as fit for travel as you may have been 200 years ago, and so we will accept any trusted representative to appear before us at either's convenience. The next few pages were the official reports on Bosch and the girl who remained nameless on all pages. Clausius pulled a piece of paper from his desk and prepared a reply: To the High Council of the Wizard's Guild, I will make preparations to send a representative you are no doubt familiar with. The Simbul is currently attending to clan affairs in the east, but I will ask that she convene with the council at her earliest convenience. In regards to the information you have provided on both of my inquiries, I thank you for the help in these matters. The business with Bosch's records will be reconciled as soon as he returns from a trip of the utmost importance. The future of our humble faction relies on his success in this journey, and so I ask that you be patient until such time as the plans are finalized. With warmest regards, Clausius Sagacus Sealing the letter in wax, Clausius imprinted the Sagacus crest upon it and handed it to the courier with confidence that it would reach its destination with the greatest of speeds.

The Beginning Pt. I

After many days of endless stress I made my way to the Blue Moon Tavern. I Pulled a few coins out of my pocket, slammed them on the bar and demanded service. The Bartender hustled his way to where I was sitting 'What are ya drinkin?' he asked, I replied 'Give me a bottle of your finest wine'. He pulled a 12 ounce of his best White Whine and poped the cork, and poured me a glass, 'Have the whole thing, you look like you need it'. 'Thanks' I said, chuckling a bit. 'Don't mention it'. I picked up the bottle and glass and caught out of the corner of my eye the image of the women whom I have come to love very much. I let out a slight whistle trying to catch her attention, success!! she slowly walked to me with the brightest smile I've ever seen on her face. Strolling up behind was her pet Kaji purring away like always. I beckoned for her to follow but instead she rushed by me sneaking off to the Back Room of the Tavern. I quickly followed her path, moving from room to room, trying hard at the same time to not spill my drink. Finally I made it to Back Room panting as if I had just had a battle with Tchazzar and won (out of pure luck). Looking around the room I noticed she had somehow pushed the two chairs together making it seem as if it was a couch. I sat on one of the chairs, Wine Glass and Bottle in hand, poured some more wine, I noticed Xairin had a puzzled look on her face, she said 'What's that for?', I told her 'It's just a little wine, never hurt anybody.'.

-3- NorthBound

The autumn sun hung low over the horizon as Bosch made his way into the small hamlet located just north of Waterdeep. It was his final stop on a long journey northward, where he would search out the future of the faction. His decision to search in the northern lands came rather spontaneously as he stood in the square in Waterdeep. The south was infested with trolls, and the east was a wilderness he would just as soon forget. The west had potential, but only after crossing the Sea of Swords, which would open up more options than he had time to consider. That left the north, of which little information was still known, and that was a definite selling point for his decision. While he had a long journey ahead of him, he knew that it would be much easier to manage if he rested up for the evening. Passing by several farms, he noticed a group of buildings set up in what he only guessed as being the center of the settlement. The Long Road passed directly through and opened up into a crude square with several water troughs and hay. A crude road stretched to the east across the fields and down into a swampy area below. Just a few paces from the road sat an inn which seemed to be doing quite well, as patrons frequented it more so than they did anything else. Bosch made his way in. At the front desk stood a stocky, middle-aged man who was busy with an angry patron. The patron, obviously drunk, was busy yelling at the innkeeper and beating his fist against the desk while rambling on about his room. When he grew tired, the innkeeper leaned forward and whispered in the patrons face, such that it became white with fear. In another instance, it was all over, with the patron stumbling quickly out the door, but not before setting down a few platinum pieces on the desk. "Greetings! What can we do for you here in the Sleeping Dragon?" Bosch was taken aback for a moment at the sudden pleasantness of the innkeeper, but it was only for a moment. "I've been on the road for several days without a decent place to rest. I was wondering if you had a room?" The innkeeper laughed. "You are fortunate. One just became available. The price will be 5 platinum, and that includes a meal and drink. Bosch counted out five platinum coins and placed them onto the desk. With one hand, the innkeeper slid the money towards him and tossed Bosch a key with the other. This switch happened so quick that Bosch nearly lost his bag trying to recover the flying key, causing the innkeeper to laugh. "You'll like this room. Breakfast is served within an hours of sunrise, so don't miss it. And losing that key will cost you much more than I think you can afford. Have a good night!" Bosch made his way through the tavern area toward the back where the rooms were. Opening his room number, he found the accomidations less than pleasant, with half eaten food still on the table and an unmade bed complete with beer stains. But Bosch never quite got used to beds again, having spent a decade sleeping on beds of leaves and soft earth. Pulling the straw mattress from the bedframe, he made himself a place to sleep and quickly settled in for the night.

-2- Greater Things

Clausius and Vaishu entered the main collection of the archives, which was a vast chamber filled with rows upon rows of shelves and cases. At the end of near every row were stacks of containers filled with overflow which made the aisles extremely difficult to navigate. Clausius and Vaishu meandered their way through to a large fireplace at the northern wall. In front of it was an equally large desk that sat in a small clearing that managed to remain uncluttered from the invading antiquities. With a smile, Vaishu placed his bag on the desk and pulled it open. "Two sets of crystal panes from Waterdeep," he said as he produced two wooden boxes. "The jeweler apologizes for being late with them." Clausius opened the boxes and examined the panes under the firelight. "I will settle with him next month when he visits. Did you manage to find the tools?" Vaishu smiled as he produced several leather bundles from the bags. "They were hard to find, but I managed to locate a trader from Heifong that acquired them for me." Clausius nodded as he produced a dwarven toolbox from under the desk. Taking the tools one by one, he began to sort them in the toolbox with the greatest of care and satisfaction. For several minutes, the two rooted through the bags, producing a sizable pile of seemingly unrelated items. Along with the crystal panes and tools, there were three bronze shields, two spools of binding leather, a tanner's kit, several small sheets of various metal, including copper, tin, and soft iron, a canister of metal polish, and several books related to manufacturing of small machines and other mechanical contraptions. All of these things Clausius sorted and piled next to more items which looked even stranger together. "I know you won't tell me what these things are for, but I ran into Bosch who was also in Waterdeep, and he seemed to know about the items I was looking for. I was just curious if you two were planning something." Vaishu asked as he stood up in front of the desk. "Well, it is a safe assumption that we are always planning something, but to answer your question: Yes, he has always known about the dreams and my interest in them." A spark of interest showed in the halfling as he looked up at Clausius, such that Clausius had to justify his statement. "Well, my intentions regarding these things you brought me are not related to the future of the faction. It is strictly a personal interest, but one that may prove beneficial to our cause. I think I will stop at that for fear of dragging you into my flights of fancy." He was adamant about keeping secrets. That is one thing Vaishu was certain about when it came to Clausius. While curiosity burned within him, he knew also that Clausius had his reasons for not letting on to certain things. It was an old observation that Vaishu had learned about and also learned to live with from the day he came to know the keepers now just half a year prior. And as expected, Clausius had another task to utilize the strider's abilities with. Tearing a strip of parchment from his stack of notes, Clausius penned several lines and handed it over to Vaishu. "I need you to locate these keepers for me and have them come to the archives." Taking the parchment, Vaishu folded it up and carefully placed it in his pocket. "And when do you need them here," he asked. "Within the next few weeks if possible. As we speak, Bosch is busy searching for a new place to store the archives and we will need all the help we can get for the move." Vaishu blinked slowly. "The move?" Clausius smiled at the reply, having purposely instigated it. "Yes, I would like to have everything moved within the month. There will be no problem finding them right?" The halfling grinned at the question which he couldn't possibly answer in any truthful capacity. He thought how ambitious such a proposal was when there wasn't even a place to move to as of then. Even with all of the keepers assembled to work on the move, it would be very difficult to have it all transported and reordered within the year, much less within the month. But then something had to be said about optimism and that is where he mustered the courage to reply that finding them would be no problem. "Good," replied Clausius. "Good luck?" asked Vaishu. "If any luck is with us in this endeavor, it will be good," was Clausius' reply as Vaishu exited the archives.

-1- Dawn of a Legacy

Dark clouds loomed over the forests around the ruined city. At an outcropping of rocks there sat carved a small place called simply 'The Archives'. It is a place where on this particular evening an aged titan sat in an equally aged wooden chair inside a room with no roof. In place of one was a tattered canvas, partially draped over a series of rings fabricated into a dome such that leaves and birds wandered in freely from the outside. Also that evening, the titan named Clausius let wander in thoughts of shaking the stability in his life. For longer that he could remember, this place served as his repository for all things he knew or hoped to know about his world. It was his lifes work, and as such his life, but he also knew that beyond the antiquities and beyond the volumes of knowledge, there lied a greater cause that pre-existed all others. It was time to complete the legacy. And with those thoughts came the rain. The droplets fell through the open roof with no resistance and struck the ground forcefully, saturating the room with the smell of dry earth. The elder titan sat in his chair, tossing a ball of string to the ground such that it rolled and bounced across the floor. A length of the string remained tied to his finger such that with a tug of his wrist, the ball came bounding back to his hands. This he entertained himself with through the rain, until the ball became saturated to the point that it fell like dead weight onto the ground. That is when he realized it was raining and that he was not alone. "You become stranger by the day, Clausius" a voice called out through the downpour. Clausius turned to see a cloaked halfling standing in the entranceway holding several bags. Ah Vaishu. Good to see you again." Clausius rose from his chair as he pocketed the ball of string. "Good to see me or to see these bags full?" Vaishu replied as he lifted them slightly to show they were indeed heavy with items. "Both to be honest, but you above all else. Let me gather my senses again and we'll have a look." Clausius made his way over to the large rope which was tied to the canvas. With a gentle tug, the canvas pulled shut and with it came several splashes of water. Vaishu watched this display carefully, being more interested in the funny length of string which ran from the titans pocket to his finger. "So I must ask you: what is the ball of string for?" Vaishu asked as they made their way down the hallway. "Well, it was of the advice of a friend that I take up new hobbies, and I found that the string helps me understand." "Oh really? How so?" asked the halfling. Clausius looked up again, half taken by surprise at the question. A few paces later, he replied, "Well, I was just thinking how much me and this ball of string have in common. Someone drops it and it rolls like it was meant to roll, across the ground in all its imperfections. Somewhere it will stop as it hits a rock or maybe just runs out of momentum, but no matter what niche it finds, theres something it cannot change. It is always tied to something; tied to its driving force if you will that will eventually decide its time to pull that ball of string back in and let it roll again." Vaishu looked at him with a puzzled look and shook his head. "You know, dont take this the wrong way, but sometimes I think all this isolation starts getting to your head." Clausius cracked a smile amidst a look of concern. "Perhaps youre right. All I know is that Ive been sitting in my little niche too long now for something not to come along and pull me out." Clausius stopped at the end of the short hallway to hang up his robe which was soaked with water. Taking one of the bags from Vaishu, he patted him on the back and said, "Let us dry by the fire and see what kinds of things you have for me."

Horrible Mistake

I hit the floor suddenly, coming awake forcefully. Eyes flying open, I lay still for a moment, catching my breath before rolling onto my back and staring through the darkness at the ceiling. Usually I would light a small flame to illuminate the room, but tonight the darkness suited me better. Through the floor I felt the soft vibration of the wind despite the magical shock absorbtion in place; the Alyra was being pelted by strong winds, anchored in her place high above the moutains. A pain jolted through my gut as memories from the evening before came back to me in a rush, and I curled my knees up to my chest as waves of tears "No," I told myself quietly, forcing myself to my feet. "It was an accident, nothing more." The words sounded hollow even to me, though. Ret and I had made a horrible mistake. I reached out, picking up a dagger from my desk and weighing it in my hand. Memories flashed in my mind quickly. Ret's eagerness to explore, trying to cheer me up, had taken us to new parts. His magic had led us there, and I'd slowly been warming to the idea when we'd come across the bandit. "We were only defending ourselves." It did nothing to comfort me. I sat back down on my cot, tracing the odd imprint on the dagger's hilt with one of my fingers. That was probably the worst part. I'd killed him with my mother's dagger. Standing quickly, I flung the dagger sideways at the wall, turning and fleeing the room before it hit the floor. I clamored up the stairs and rushed down the hallway to the open helm of the Alyra, climbing up onto the railing and standing there, staring out over the landscape. The brisk wind caught me, throwing me backward onto the deck, and for the second time I landed heavily. Instead of getting up this time, I rolled onto my side and cried.

Drowling [3]

"Please leave me...I'm quite fine now. Thanks for the help, it shall be repayed generously." Starlight said to Vidala. "No problem M'Lady, twas a pleasure delivering a new life into this world." Vidala responded politely and left the room, quietly shutting the door. Starlight gently caressed the head of the newborn child... Minutes later a soft knock on the door interrupted their privacy. "Well, come in if you must." Starlight was obviously mispleased with the intrusion. The door opened and Cragath walked in, calm as always. "Well, as I see it all went nicely." He said with a smile on his face "Indeed it did...and I have you to thank..." Starlight said, barely holding back a yawn, "sorry, I'm a bit tired at the moment, again, I thank you for what you have done.""Not at all, 'tis all my duty. Peace and justice for all. I shall leave you to rest now. Sleep well, you and your child." Cragath said, pleased that another one of his days went fine. "Oh yea," he mentioned on his way out, "may I know who the father is?". "Well, if you must know it was Ryel." Starlight responded hesitantly "I see...well...if you need anything else I'll be downstairs sipping my ale and listening to the gossip as usual. Sleep well." Starlight nodded, put the little child next to herself and sank into a deep slumber. The litte drowling was sleeping soundly, unaware of what the future could bring...

Drowling [2]

Walking around the misty and rainy forest of Darrowmere Adelaide suddenly spotted a figure in a grey cloak approaching her. "Hello there, traveller, wonderful day, isn't it?" she mentioned looking at the wayfarer with a mischevous smile. The traveller peered at the dark clouds that were constantly spouting down cold rain and chuckled. "Cheerful as always you are eh? Well, I'm not quite in the joking mood right now, kind of need a favor." the cloaked stranger said. "Anything you need, Cragath, you know I'm always there for a friend" Adelaide responded. "Starlight is currently in labor in the Prancing Stallion Tavern, I need an experienced healer there to deliver the child.""Say no more, of course I shall help." Without further delay Adelaide fluttered her tiny wings and disappeared, with no trace of her presence other than a pinch of glittering pixie dust. (Back at the tavern) Appearing right before Starlight Adelaide knew exactly what to do... afterall it wasn't her first time assisting a delivery. "Well, a priest has got to do what a priest was called in to do." Adelaide said to herself and uttered a few words. Starlight instantly took a lighter breath and seemed more relieved. "This little charm will make the delivery much easier, rest assured, you're in good hands, dear Starlight. Just relax." Starlight nodded, "I trust my life...and my child's life in your hands, pixie. Do your duty well." "I always do, dear, just keep calm and focused, we'll have this taken care of in no time." (Quite a while later) "Waaaaaaaaaaaah!!" The baby's cry broke the tension in the tavern room. "It's a completely healthy little drowling." Adelaide said, nodding in satisfaction. Both mother and child are fine. Adelaide smiled. "I love it when those things come out right". Vidala nodded in agreement. "From the looks of it the mother and the child will be fine" Adelaide continued, "a little rest it'll all be fine. I shall be off now. A flutter of pixie wings and a small flash of light...Adelaide is gone..

Drowling [1]

The night was cold...and chilly winds were out. Luckily Cragath was spending this eve inside a nice cozy tavern just outside of the city of Westbridge, in the forest of Haon Dor. Cragath was calmly sitting at the bar, relaxing from a hard day of tiring work. Absently listening to the travelling bard he noticed an intriguingly odd figure entering the tavern. A short, from first glance female figure, crouched, like under a heavy weight, groaning from...pain? After making such an observation, Cragath decided to offer his assistance to the person that was obviosly in need of it. As he approached the figure and peered under the hood of the cloak, he discovered that the person was none other than Starlight, a drow Cragath knew rather well... "What's wrong? Anything I can help you with?" Cragath inquired. "Arrg...I'm in pain...the child...labor..." Starlight uttered with pain in her voice. "Oh God...she's in labor!", trying to stay calm, Cragath picked Starlight up and carried her upstairs, to the private rooms of the tavern, on his way up he motioned Vidala, the tavernkeeper's wife to get some hot water and clean towels. Vidala nodded and tossed Cragath a key to one of the rooms "On the house." she said and rushed off to fulfil Cragath's request. Up in the room Cragath gently set Starlight onto a bed. Vidala arrived with the requested hot water and clean towels. "Take care of her for now, I'm off to get a reliable cleric to perform the delivery." Cragath said and hastily made his way towards the exit.

A Decision To Make

Mirage sits on her bed, her knees drawn to her chest, her cheeks stained with tears. Her eyes narrowed on her mirror, she sits there staring at what she feels is a pathetic excuse for a Sunite. She thinks of all that has happened, all of her pain, all those who have shunned her. She thinks of all the terrible things she has learned of her past, many of which shame her. She says in a a harsh anger stricken voice "Why can I not remember?!" Tears form fresh on her face, cries of sadness and pain apparent. She stands up looking around, the rooms spins. Mirage places a hand on her forehead and steadies herself a moment letting out a long sigh. "I need to start fresh, bring amends, I need to end my foolishness, weed the good from the bad, I will make Sune proud, I will find myself." Mirage grabs some of her things and walks slowly yo the door. She looks back a moment, placing her hand on the door jamb. She says quietly "When I return all will be new, and I will know what to do." Mirage turns towards the door and takes a deep breath.

When you wake

[Note: I hope you don't mind this being in second person. It isn't for anyone else's consumption but your own. I don't terribly like acting for other people, but this seemed a likely scenario. And as we can't realistically RP every moment they spend together, consider this role one possible way Icehawk's waking could have gone. Enjoy! --nicoLe] As you lie in your bed, consciousness slowly creeping back to you, you breathe in strange sweet and savory aromas seldom encountered on board the Freon IIC. When you eventually open your eyes and look around the room, you notice a halfling woman sitting cross-legged in a chair near your bed, her black hair pulled back into a ponytail. She is wearing little more than a black tank top and a pair of white panties. Across her lap is a notepad with a handsewn binding of black cloth. The pages are lined oddly, a series of five close lines crossing the page. You might recognize these lines as staves for musical notation. Humming a haunting melody quietly to herself, she quickly jots a few notes down. You could watch her like this for a while if you wanted, as she hardly looks up, enthralled in her own doings. If you do so, she will look up after a few long moments and offer you a broad, gentle smile, setting the notepad down as she gets up and joins you in bed. If you move too much or decide to say something, she'll look up and offer you a small, distracted "Hrmm?" followed by a quick, surprised "Oh!" Clumsily, she will set the notepad down and run to your side. "How ya feeling?" she asks, hopping into bed and planting a happy kiss on your neck. You run your hands over her near-naked body and smile. "Much better now." Your fingers find their way under her tank top, her skin erupting in goosebumps at your eager touch. A slight shiver runs over her body and with wide eyes she tells you, "I've got bread in the mmmrvremmm," her words cut off by your quick kiss. For a short while, she indulges you, letting your hands wander as they will, lost in your kisses. Soon enough, however, a loud ding beckons from the galley, causing her to jump. Most likely, she is quicker than you and races off to check on her bread before you can protest. But if you do happen to be fast enough to grab her, she will ask you simply, "Do you want the ship full of smoke again?" Though you could smell the fresh bread when she opened the oven, Eleni comes back empty handed, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. Wild sex ensues for as long as you see fit. When you are both sated, lying naked next to each other, with a surprising amount of energy, she hops out of bed and runs out the room. She comes back a few minutes later, still deliciously naked, carrying a too-large tray. "Something to fill your belly." She smiles broadly, setting the tray next to you on the bed. Two large metal bowls containing what seems to be an unreasonable amount of pasta and vegtables dominate the tray. Four slices of a dark bread with a light brown spread rest next to a set of large tea cups. "Cinnamon nutmeg tea with a touch of brandy. Pipeweed bread, Teatree recipe, with honey-butter. And my own personal chicken stew. I meant it to be a soup, but people told me it's way too thick. So, it's stew, I suppose. And the bread is better than any you'll find around here. I won't cook like this often. So enjoy it while you can." Even if you try to interrupt her she'll keep speaking, quite proud of her cooking. She climbs into bed next to you and slides her pale, lovely legs under the covers. You pull the tray across your laps and enjoy a wonderful naked lunch or dinner or breakfast, whichever it would when you awoke. :}

Seline's Journal pg 7

Tuesday 4th of Nightal, year still unknown Interesting meeting today with a vampire called Arghaii. Seems in this world he was a High Lord of Mysteries, defeated and turned by the Mad God, Then claimed by the One that comes in the Night. Also interesting that those within the Church of Mystra here that participated in his defeat left (were kicked out of?) the church, Yet he still attacked the Church till Our Lady had to personally interfere... Now he claims to have a home...where She who walks in the Night lives..yet he does not serve her...Place called Sigil. I can understand many of his actions, altho due to his madness it seems he put the blame on Our Lady...instead of where it belonged...yet now, he either is in a period of lucidity...or has....hmm what.. he claims no god..recognises all ..but follows none..and as long as he maintains his (relationship) with Nis... he is safe from all...Wonder what that relationship entails...he knows of ...and he doesn't.

Seline's Journal pg 6

I have met and fought with many creatures...some quite familiar and some almost totally grotesque..Vampires, those feared creatures of the night..walk boldly in the daylight...and some even have hearts of the purest light. Some of course are like the tales of nightmares..Golems abound here...and some are similar to the DragonTower. operated by living creatures, yet the difference is these creatures are imprisoned within those golem shells.. There is a tower...which I have made many attempts to reach to top of..filled with creatures..I have tried to speak with the head mage there..but every time I go there I am attacked..and have to defend myself or flee One of these days..I intend to speak with that mage...about the abuse of the weave his people are doing.. While practicing my teleport spell..I was visited again by Her...she presented me with a book...called the tome of the Seven Sisters..A holy book which is similar to one I had seen in Artur's study...but had never had a chance to read A gift..from Her..I was so ..surprised and honored, I could barely stand. we talked a bit..then after she left...I could withhold my excitement no longer...and read the book from cover to cover..Thoughts raced thru my mind..Is this an indicati - of what Our Lady wants from me? more than a guidience on the use of the weave itself? I have to think on this more...sword and spell have always been my life in Her honor...but...to get THIS from She I honor above all living..second to Our Lady herself... 

Seline's Journal pg 5

2nd of Uktar ...year unknown..(local) As of yet, I have been unable to discern the Yearly calender used...however, much has happened since last putting quill to parchment. I met with a holy man from the Church of Oghma, one Azarot.....decent fellow, he brought me to a place which had the mark of the Crescent Moon- The Harpers. A rather strange thing happened when I touched their Legendary Symbol...It was as Our Lady herself wanted me to do something with - or for them..for my hand glowed and I got all warm. Then he touched the symbol too....and the same happened to him, but apparently much stronger, for his feet gave out under him...he claimed that he had felt an overwhealming power in the touch. Not harmful..yet ... I thought, and mentioned to him that It might have been Our Lady's touch...that of the Weave itself...as he is used to working with it thru Oghma and not directly..I being more familiar with it..felt reassured We discussed what this might mean, but could not come to any firm opinion. Since that time I have met with a couple of the members of the Crescent Moon, who's names I hesitate to mention - for thier own safety One, however a Lady V...was very pleasent and I have met her twice since then. I came into posession of 4 items in my travels, gifts of one who claimed he found them...An earring, 2 cloaks and a pair of boots. Lady V said I could keep them..so I do, with honor. I spoke with her about the Old One. and If it was possible for me to meet with him to discuss the event with thier Mark...she said she would try to get that message to him I left a message with one of the Clerics at the Church of Mystra on the trail between Westbridge and New Thalos..with the idea of letting them know that one of Her's was here and to discuss why She might have brought me. Of all people to answer me from the Church...The one known as The Witchlady herself..my heroine, Never since before or after my making Commander have I been so honored. She presented me with One of Our Lady's Symbols from this plane/dimension and we discussed that this was a different dimension or plane from the one I came from..travel to it was very possible, but from it..she did not believe was possible At the very least, entry and exit would literally tear all skills from one...and the Weave is different. spells are handled differently also..and the wild magic is somewhat tamed. Many spells I knew of and used frequently do not seem to even exist here....and some I had not thought of such as the fire/ice and stormshields are rather common. That and a section of a totally unbelieveable land are also present here.

The Rescue

After making the promise to Zariel, Grognard and the newly created heucuva Borand began planning the rescue of Ilymar from the dark wizard Dalamar. The night was cold, the wind was feirce and the rain would have felt like rocks pelting them from the skys, had they been living creatures. Grognard leads them to the enterance of Dalamars laboratory, not protected against the members of the Dragons Hoard, now former members. Opening the doors to the laboratory, one of Dalamars scribes greets Grognard, then looks to Borand assumeing he is just another of Dalamars experiments. They take the stairs up to where Grognard usually meets with Dalamar, so they would not arise suspision among the scribes which inhabit the lower floors. As they climb the stairway, Grognard pushes against a part of the wall, the wall opens to reveal a passageway, leading downward into darkness. The passageway leads to the dungeon, several cells line the walls Borand rushes over to the cell which holds Ilymar, using his great strength he rips the cell bars from the thick stone foundation. Borand removes his armor and cloak tossing them to the floor, Grognard draws his sword, thrusting it through Borands pelvic bone and bringing it up cleaving Borand in half,