As the female drow strode towards the bamboo grove, she mused on the uneasy quiet that had descended upon the Forest since Krogenar's demotion. He was still a Mystran, but was rarely seen in the Forest anymore. Other Mystrans were upset, confused or angry over the strider's repeated displays of stubborness. Simple discussions had routinely become heated shouting matches. Laisha could not lay all the blame on any single person. But Krogenar was the irritant - and he did little to smooth the feathers of those he ruffled.
Those who were upset over Krogenar's actions declared that they would give up worship of Mystra, or quit the Church. It was all Laisha could do to keep people from walking out on the Church. Through it all Krogenar had remained silent (at last!) out of a respect for the chaos he had triggered, or his own sulky mood, she could not tell.
Looking up at the bamboo grove, Laisha knew the depth of Krogenar's upset. Where once a wide swath of bamboo had reached skyward, now only small shoots were visible. Walking in the cleared out bamboo patch, Laisha spied the small shoots that had been laid. The sharp, skilled cuts were Krogenar's.
The strider had taken nearly every rod of bamboo. Laisha knelt and picked a stray bit of the tough, fibrous plant tubing from the muddy floor. Looking around, she pieced the scene together. Krogenar had carefully removed each stand of bamboo, cutting off dead ends (like the one she held now) and then planted cuttings to replace what he had taken.
Running her long black fingers along it, she whispered out to The Weave. Wherever a similar piece of bamboo could be found, The Weave throbbed in sympathy.
And like small wavelets that skim across an ocean, the vibrations caught each other, reinforced each other, and became a current. Laisha stood and walked in Krogenar's direction, in line with that current.
.....
The strider's hands moved quickly, in practiced fashion. Tying a one-handed bowline, he looped the remaining rope over the bamboo strut he was strengthening. He eyed the structure, pulling at the hollow rods. They didn't move.
Satisfied, he lit his blow torch and cut the remaining bolts. A three inch thick iron plate fell away to the grass below. He rubbed absent-mindedly at a singed eyebrow. Swinging hand-over-hand through the floorless structure, he hung now over the 'Munchausen Sub-something Drive.' The leather canvassing rigged over it was littered with his scribblings and drawings. Question marks were prominent.
Every day the half-orc had struggled to wrap his head around the necessary concepts to make the drive work. After trying for a few hours each day, he had focused his efforts back on something that made more sense.
Sometimes he understood something of its workings, and he would quickly sketch a diagram. Slowly, he had begun to understand the beastly machine enough to test it. It sat now on a bamboo platform. The aging strider was suspicous of things too complicated for him to understand. It twisted at his insides to depend on something he could not easily dismantle and reassemble. Turning the contraption on was a simple affair: the activating lever had a rope attached to it.
Ropes ran all over the structure, some connected to rudders, others to lift engines. This particular rope had a red rag tied to it - since it was important.
The strider turned, and picked his way back to the helm, his feet stepping from strut to strut. At the front of the craft, a canvas chair hung down. Krogenar slid into the chair, and surveyed the toggled ropes that were arrayed before him. Each was toggled to a notch in the bamboo.
He licked his thumb, and wiped it against the face of a mirror, then gazed into it. Two thousand paces across the clearing was his meager goal. Nodding, he took hold of the rope with the red rag tied to it. Holding his breath, he pulled it for a fraction of a second. A snap-hiss sound rang in his ears, and ...
Mystran Dust [2]
Laisha stood from her chair, and walked to the door of her room. Her cloak hung from an iron hook, and two bloated black spiders crawled over its silky black surface, slowly repairing it. Lifting the cloak from its hook, she shook the spiders loose and pulled it around her shoulders. She ascended the rough hewn steps of her underground home into the sunlit Forest of Mysteries.
Shielding her sensitive drow eyes within her hood, she began a slow circuit of Krogenar's usual resting places. After making some inquiries, a second level acolyte in Records gave her the clue she needed to track down the half-orc. "He's been to the bamboo grove recently," she said, a frown creasing her brow, some sentiment left unspoken. ".. and he can stay there, for all I care." Laisha expressed the acolyte's opinion in her own mind. She nodded to the woman, and headed to the bamboo grove. As she walked, the happenings of the past few days wafted through her mind.
.....
Laisha pushed away from the table just in time.
The assembled priests and sages of Mystra's Church gasped in unison as the table spun on its long axis, sending glasses of water, documents, and quills crashing to the floor. The table bashed down to the flagstones, landing atop the mess. Ink bottles made delicate tinkling sounds as they were crushed - their contents mingling into the mess. The table lay on its side now, laying like some wounded soldier among the debris.
All faces turned in unison to stare at the far end of the table.
Krogenar's eyes smouldered with anger and frustration. His shoulders remained set - the same as they had been when he had upturned the table.The half-orc strider's eyes remained focused on the table.
Some of the gathered Mystran clergy backed away from him.
Others gawped at the incredulity of his action. A select few, Laisha's sharp eyes noted, nodded very slightly and merely mimed surprise.
A high-ranking clergyman pushed his way through the shifting mob. "You cannot dictate the direction of Mystra's church, Honored Tribunal." The last two words he uttered with a mocking sincerity. He continued. "This is Mystra's Church - not The Church of The Pax Faerunis. Once you grasp this simple concept, 'Lord' Krogenar, you will begin to divine your true duty to Mystra. Methinks you focus too deeply on politics."
His fists balled, Krogenar took a deep breath to respond. The clergyman wasn't finished speaking, however.
"Before you speak Krogenar, let us digest your last-" he looked over his shoulder at the wreckage. " ... argument first, hmm?" He glowered at the strider through square-rimmed glasses, turned and then left the meeting room.
Laisha was in the crowd now, calming people, assuaging their concerns. With a fingersnap, apprentices from the various schools of magic were gathering the remains of people's notes, and had righted the table. In that activity Laisha noted that Krogenar had left the room, thankfully.
The next day a meeting was held, to determine what should be done.
A day after, Krogenar was removed as a member of The Tribunal. Azuth, in Mystra's stead, had whisked the mantle of leadership from his shoulders, where Mystra had once laid it.
Shielding her sensitive drow eyes within her hood, she began a slow circuit of Krogenar's usual resting places. After making some inquiries, a second level acolyte in Records gave her the clue she needed to track down the half-orc. "He's been to the bamboo grove recently," she said, a frown creasing her brow, some sentiment left unspoken. ".. and he can stay there, for all I care." Laisha expressed the acolyte's opinion in her own mind. She nodded to the woman, and headed to the bamboo grove. As she walked, the happenings of the past few days wafted through her mind.
.....
Laisha pushed away from the table just in time.
The assembled priests and sages of Mystra's Church gasped in unison as the table spun on its long axis, sending glasses of water, documents, and quills crashing to the floor. The table bashed down to the flagstones, landing atop the mess. Ink bottles made delicate tinkling sounds as they were crushed - their contents mingling into the mess. The table lay on its side now, laying like some wounded soldier among the debris.
All faces turned in unison to stare at the far end of the table.
Krogenar's eyes smouldered with anger and frustration. His shoulders remained set - the same as they had been when he had upturned the table.The half-orc strider's eyes remained focused on the table.
Some of the gathered Mystran clergy backed away from him.
Others gawped at the incredulity of his action. A select few, Laisha's sharp eyes noted, nodded very slightly and merely mimed surprise.
A high-ranking clergyman pushed his way through the shifting mob. "You cannot dictate the direction of Mystra's church, Honored Tribunal." The last two words he uttered with a mocking sincerity. He continued. "This is Mystra's Church - not The Church of The Pax Faerunis. Once you grasp this simple concept, 'Lord' Krogenar, you will begin to divine your true duty to Mystra. Methinks you focus too deeply on politics."
His fists balled, Krogenar took a deep breath to respond. The clergyman wasn't finished speaking, however.
"Before you speak Krogenar, let us digest your last-" he looked over his shoulder at the wreckage. " ... argument first, hmm?" He glowered at the strider through square-rimmed glasses, turned and then left the meeting room.
Laisha was in the crowd now, calming people, assuaging their concerns. With a fingersnap, apprentices from the various schools of magic were gathering the remains of people's notes, and had righted the table. In that activity Laisha noted that Krogenar had left the room, thankfully.
The next day a meeting was held, to determine what should be done.
A day after, Krogenar was removed as a member of The Tribunal. Azuth, in Mystra's stead, had whisked the mantle of leadership from his shoulders, where Mystra had once laid it.
Mystran Dust [1]
Hopping to a stop, his legs hummed with energy. Walking to cool himself down, the strider's small, tight chest still sucked air greedily. Cocking his head left and right, Krogenar pulled his neck bones back into place with a dull crackle. His breathing slowed, and his legs began to cool. He shook his hands at his sides, and rolled his wide shoulders. A cool breeze toyed with his shaggy red-brown hair, like a surprise visit from an old friend. The sweat on his brow was chilled by it, and streaked down the sides of his stubbled face. Putting each of his thickly calloused thumbs at the point where his shaggy eyebrows touched, he pressed them outwards. Sweat squirted past his fingers and streamed down in his cheeks.
Ardeep Forest lay behind him, and the open plains lay ahead. His mental almanac of this area told him he would sleep well. The grass of these plains was especially thick and luxurious. At night he'd would lay down, and pull the greeness around him into a thick pad, and sleep in the plains' perfume. The splash of stars would swirl its chaotic lullaby for him tonight.
The sun began to dip behind the distant mountains beyond the plains. In the twilight, the half-orc walked serenely in the grass, with no particular thought in his mind, and his feet moving in no particular direction. Nightfall was about to descend.
He looked up at the sky, childlike, and waited for the first stars to arrive.
A flashing white dawn rose up over the mountain's shoulders. Krogenar's eyebrow's arched, and he stared at the unnatural dawn in wonder. A white brilliance built up slowly, and night was turned to day. And then it receded to darkness again. A moment ago, the grass had waved around him in a fitful breeze. Now it became still. The air around him seemed to somehow recede, to pull away. Fingers pulling at the grass, Krogenar tried to rouse them back into their dance - but they would not. The green strands bowed their heads solemnly.
He squinted into the distance, and horror began twisting in his stomach. His legs suddenly came alive again, hot in an instant. Instinct warred with the doom in his heart. His head sagged down against his chest. Somewhere, he knew, another half-orc would be on a mountaintop somewhere, undead arms open in a rapturous embrace. Westbridge was gone. He longed to picture the Mystrans huddled in The Archive, but he could not be sure. Built using the funds and resources of The Pax Faerunis, it was to all outside observers an ordinary library. In that deep shaft underground, they, and the knowledge that they could fit inside would be safe from The Rok's impact.
If they went inside.
Krogenar lifted his head, and peered out between fear-sweat soaked strands of hair. His hands twitched where they hung loosely at his sides, reminding the strider that they were ready to act - if he could only think of something to be done.
The first white clouds could be seen now, racing along the ground towards him. Small flecks of black could be seen bobbing on their surface. A snarl twisted its way onto his face, and he screamed at the wall of whiteness.
The shout's sound was clipped to silence as his lungs explosively decompressed, and the strider was swept away, limbs pulled from their fleshly moorings, joining what remained of him in the chaotic flotsam of the shock wave.
Krogenar bolted upright from his bed of grass. The stars drifted above him, and the smell of wildflowers drifted on the wind. Hringorl, his great bear companion snored softly some distance away. He lay back again, and tried to sleep.
Ardeep Forest lay behind him, and the open plains lay ahead. His mental almanac of this area told him he would sleep well. The grass of these plains was especially thick and luxurious. At night he'd would lay down, and pull the greeness around him into a thick pad, and sleep in the plains' perfume. The splash of stars would swirl its chaotic lullaby for him tonight.
The sun began to dip behind the distant mountains beyond the plains. In the twilight, the half-orc walked serenely in the grass, with no particular thought in his mind, and his feet moving in no particular direction. Nightfall was about to descend.
He looked up at the sky, childlike, and waited for the first stars to arrive.
A flashing white dawn rose up over the mountain's shoulders. Krogenar's eyebrow's arched, and he stared at the unnatural dawn in wonder. A white brilliance built up slowly, and night was turned to day. And then it receded to darkness again. A moment ago, the grass had waved around him in a fitful breeze. Now it became still. The air around him seemed to somehow recede, to pull away. Fingers pulling at the grass, Krogenar tried to rouse them back into their dance - but they would not. The green strands bowed their heads solemnly.
He squinted into the distance, and horror began twisting in his stomach. His legs suddenly came alive again, hot in an instant. Instinct warred with the doom in his heart. His head sagged down against his chest. Somewhere, he knew, another half-orc would be on a mountaintop somewhere, undead arms open in a rapturous embrace. Westbridge was gone. He longed to picture the Mystrans huddled in The Archive, but he could not be sure. Built using the funds and resources of The Pax Faerunis, it was to all outside observers an ordinary library. In that deep shaft underground, they, and the knowledge that they could fit inside would be safe from The Rok's impact.
If they went inside.
Krogenar lifted his head, and peered out between fear-sweat soaked strands of hair. His hands twitched where they hung loosely at his sides, reminding the strider that they were ready to act - if he could only think of something to be done.
The first white clouds could be seen now, racing along the ground towards him. Small flecks of black could be seen bobbing on their surface. A snarl twisted its way onto his face, and he screamed at the wall of whiteness.
The shout's sound was clipped to silence as his lungs explosively decompressed, and the strider was swept away, limbs pulled from their fleshly moorings, joining what remained of him in the chaotic flotsam of the shock wave.
Krogenar bolted upright from his bed of grass. The stars drifted above him, and the smell of wildflowers drifted on the wind. Hringorl, his great bear companion snored softly some distance away. He lay back again, and tried to sleep.
Arith's Adventure
The clouds darkened as the moon seemed to push the sun out of its way. I found myself alone on this exploring trip. I was going to explore the huge mine system under the dwarf kingdom, that supplies us are ore. As i followed the path to the entrance of the cave i noticed what seemed to be a huge door made of the finest steel carved of with the imprint of a dwarf women. I thought to myself what could lie behind the door. After my quick thought 2 dwarven guards approched me asking what i was here to do. Telling them of my plan they, happen to tell me of a problem that has been pestering them.
"A Maze!!" I thought to myself could there be. Understand that this was a huge network of mines, i decide to proceed on with the exploring keeping in the back of my mind about the maze. At first sight all i saw was a steep drop off into nothing but a darkness of the mines. Then a ladder caught my eye. As i made my way down the ladder, i could see hundreds of dwarfs working, mining doing what they did best. As i finished my climb down the ladder I happened to see a door that was left all by itself. Not a dwarf was in sight, I started to open it slightly, as a smell of horror and death seemed to come out from behind the door. As the door was pulled all the way open, i seen what looks to be a path made of bright. red rocks. I followed, running into few problem little snake nothing, that a dwarf miner could not handle. As i reached the end, or what looked to be a small house, under the carved of the rock arounds it.
I slowly approched with caution, for anything could happen. I opened the door, and i saw what looked like a old man. I walked in approching the old man " Sir are you ok? " The Man turned his face quickly, " Who are you and what business do you have coming into my house? " I could see that he was getting madder by the second. " you shall feel my wrath!" I withdrew my sword quickly taking up the challenge. I decide that It was not worth taking a life if, he did nothing wrong. I gental whisperd words to myself "scare" The man jumped back falling to the ground droping his blade. I asked again " Sir what are you doing here " the mans eyes showed fear, his body shaking rapidly. the words left his mouth slowly, "I was incharge of digging the mines out" I did not understand, the concept, what was he doing in the mines by himself. He contuined, " I was taken by some god, and man dressed in all blue he said that now i shall end the FLAMES mines" !Boom!. Waking in the Healing Wound Inn. "What had hit me" I yelled But the lady said, A dwarf brought you here. . . .
"A Maze!!" I thought to myself could there be. Understand that this was a huge network of mines, i decide to proceed on with the exploring keeping in the back of my mind about the maze. At first sight all i saw was a steep drop off into nothing but a darkness of the mines. Then a ladder caught my eye. As i made my way down the ladder, i could see hundreds of dwarfs working, mining doing what they did best. As i finished my climb down the ladder I happened to see a door that was left all by itself. Not a dwarf was in sight, I started to open it slightly, as a smell of horror and death seemed to come out from behind the door. As the door was pulled all the way open, i seen what looks to be a path made of bright. red rocks. I followed, running into few problem little snake nothing, that a dwarf miner could not handle. As i reached the end, or what looked to be a small house, under the carved of the rock arounds it.
I slowly approched with caution, for anything could happen. I opened the door, and i saw what looked like a old man. I walked in approching the old man " Sir are you ok? " The Man turned his face quickly, " Who are you and what business do you have coming into my house? " I could see that he was getting madder by the second. " you shall feel my wrath!" I withdrew my sword quickly taking up the challenge. I decide that It was not worth taking a life if, he did nothing wrong. I gental whisperd words to myself "scare" The man jumped back falling to the ground droping his blade. I asked again " Sir what are you doing here " the mans eyes showed fear, his body shaking rapidly. the words left his mouth slowly, "I was incharge of digging the mines out" I did not understand, the concept, what was he doing in the mines by himself. He contuined, " I was taken by some god, and man dressed in all blue he said that now i shall end the FLAMES mines" !Boom!. Waking in the Healing Wound Inn. "What had hit me" I yelled But the lady said, A dwarf brought you here. . . .
A formal Waiver
Alsin travelled long and far, over the Ishtar, to the lonesome Island of AccoMaxx where his twin brother had retired to. He slowly crept off his boat and walked into the Mansion. He looked around, then proceeded to his quarters on the second floor. He had never spoken of it, nor shed light of his condition to a soul, but now he could no longer keep it to himself. Years of torment ate at him bit by bit and now he lay in his bed. He thought to himself, "I accomplished so much, sought out my dreams, live and love and lost, how could such a small thing turn out to be so serious?". He took several small breaths, then sighed, and feel into a deep sleep. Only time will tell if this Fairfax legend would ever wake again......
A new Chapter
Another chapter closes, what a shame it had to end this way. Kyarn, my brother my blood my kin, I wish you the best and all the luck. Vandalandius, keep on pimping. Havok, king dragon, my ego was as great as yours, unfortunately, it was more fragile. I'm dead, I'm gone I'll see you all later. Alsin Fairfax the self proclaimed - Goblin Ruler, Pyker child, Syndicate Crimelord, Criminal Mastermind, Sexual God, and that bastard you hated but always loved. Peace the FuCk OuT!!
Life
| I opened my eyes. For the first time in many
years, I was able to see. | | I blinked. Yet, I was still unable to move.
I was entombed in a large | | chunk of ice, a frozen statue hidden away
from the world by a think | | blanket of dead vegetation. I was alive.
Thinking. Cold. I felt cold | | and unhealthy. I tried to break free from
my icy prison. It took a | | couple of attempts, but somehow, I shattered
it with my unforseen | | strength, or force rather. I was cold. I could
not feel the warmth of | | the golden rays of the sun. I could not feel
anything. I could not | | remember anything. But I do know one thing: It
is not possible for me | | to be alive. Who am I? What am I? I began to
walk. Where? I do not | | know. I just hoped to find warmth. I hoped to
find someone to talk to. | | Someone. So, I decided to go to a city. |
| | | When I reached a large city, Westbridge, I was amazed by its splendor:
| | The humourous mimes performing, city guard patrolling, merchants |
| enticing, and warriors bragging. I stopped in a Healing Wound Inn. |
| I examined the room. Many adventurers were there healing and drinking.
| | I soon noticed many eyes on me. I simply smiled. One of them came up
| | to me and offered to buy me a drink. I declined his friendly gesture.
| | He then offered to rent me a room, so I may have a nice rest. Even
| | though I was not physically tired, I was mentally tired. I needed a
| | solitary place to recollect my thoughts. I said, "Yes. I like a room,
| | I am very tired." He grinned and rubbed his hands. He went to the inn-
| | keeper and rented room 4 for me, or us, rather. We headed towards the
| | room. He unlocked the door and opened it. I entered the room and laid
| | on the bed. He also entered the room. I quickly sat up, and asked him
| | to leave and for my privacy. Chuckling to himself, the adventurer came
| | closer and closer. I sternly said again, "Please leave this room!"
| | However, he continue to come towards me, with an awkward grin on his
| | face. He said, "Now, don't you wanna play?" Then, he wrapped his arms
| | around me. His skin was warm, so I did not mind. He then continued,
| | "You are very cold. Do you want me to warm you up?" He took off his
| | armor and various equipment, and tried to kiss me, I instictively bit
| | his neck. Blood! Warm, precious blood! I kept drinking the life out
of | | the unfortunate adventurer. He screamed, and screamed, but I did
not | | stop feeding. I finally found the warmth I was looking for -- warmth
| | from blood. For once, I was no longer cold. I felt powerful. I felt
| | good. | | | | I looked in the mirror. I did not look like I have aged.
My face, hair | | and physical features were that of splendid beauty. My
fangs slowly | | receded. My torn clothing was blood-soaked. I stared at
the mirror in | | disbelief, for I am a lich. I shall live forever draining
the life of | | the living to fuel my perfect immortality. |
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