The Gate

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

Fate Complete

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

Here and Now

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

Respite [5]

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

Respite [4]

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

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

Departures and Beginnings

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

The awakening

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