His father's chest slowed, the flow of blood from his side had stopped, and his eyes stared emptily at the dark sky, the flames from the burning homes lighting the scene in lights of yellow an orange.
Wrack wrapped his arm around the body before him, clutching him close, burying his face in his chest.. the scent of the man who raised him, taught him, and loved him, mingled with the scent of smoke and blood..
Pulling himself back, he looked at his father, the pain had ended, the kobolds were gone, and his home was burning..
Glancing down, to his father's clutching hands, a bundle of dark cloth was wrapped around something with squared edges..
...
His eyes were lightly filling with tears once again at the thought of the eventsof the months passed as his booted feet trod silently upon the cobblestones leading from the ports to the central market of New Thalos.
Absent-mindedly rounding a small corner bordered by a tall stone wall, his eyes watching his feet, and not the street before him, he collided with an encloaked figure. His pack fell from his shoulder, its meager contents spilling onto the street before him, and he stumbled, glancing up..
Sharp angles made up the face hidden in the shadows beneath a hood, two protrusions growing from its forehead and the glint of surprised black eyes..
Introduction by Flame - Part 2
His feet moved quickly as he ran down the path, weaving around and even under ancient trees, whose immense roots showed the forest's age to be in the centuries of being undisturbed.
Trees began to thin and the path grew grassier as he neared the southeastern edge of the village and the smell of smoke and sound of shouts grew stronger.
Topping the small hill that marked the edge of Beregost, he was able to see the cause: a group of dog-snouted beasts walking on their hind legs, holding spears and swords were fleeing to the south as a group of militia chased them into the trees, and the smoke was rising in plumes from the four homes nearest him.. The smallest one was his own.
Dropping the rabbits, he sprinted towards his home, seeing the flames lick at the rooves, and noticing the bodies of these beasts and a few of his neighbors alike were strewn about on the matted grass. Some of the villagers stood bloodied, wearing makeshift bandages and tourniquets over their wounds, carrying pitchforks and rusted weapons that attics once held, their coughs muffled by the loud crackling of flames.
An older man, Mr. Cosley, his neighbour for the entirety of his sixteen year old life was on his knees, bent over someone familiar with a deep cut in his side, holding a blood-soaked bundle of fabric to the wound.. his once-white shirt torn and blackened by soot.. and a bloodied pitchfork at his side.. It was his father.
"Dad!" he yelled, collapsing beside Mr. Cosley, glancing at the pale face, sprayed with dried blood,
"Wh.. What.." the words stammered from his lips, as tears welled up in his eyes, his mind grasping to make sense.
His father's flesh was pale in the dimming light, failing to raise his head weakly, he rolled it over to look at his son.
"Kobolds.. They came.. From the south.." his throat was hoarse from the smoke, "I got one.. with the fork.. but he cut.. deep.."
Kobolds? Those were just stories to scare children!
The bundle of cloth on his wound was dripping into the grass into a growing pool.
"You can't die," sobs shook his body, his face trailed with tears.
"We all do.. son.. We.." a harsh cough brought up blood, halting his words.
Lifting an arm, Wrack wiped his face of tears and sat up..
Trees began to thin and the path grew grassier as he neared the southeastern edge of the village and the smell of smoke and sound of shouts grew stronger.
Topping the small hill that marked the edge of Beregost, he was able to see the cause: a group of dog-snouted beasts walking on their hind legs, holding spears and swords were fleeing to the south as a group of militia chased them into the trees, and the smoke was rising in plumes from the four homes nearest him.. The smallest one was his own.
Dropping the rabbits, he sprinted towards his home, seeing the flames lick at the rooves, and noticing the bodies of these beasts and a few of his neighbors alike were strewn about on the matted grass. Some of the villagers stood bloodied, wearing makeshift bandages and tourniquets over their wounds, carrying pitchforks and rusted weapons that attics once held, their coughs muffled by the loud crackling of flames.
An older man, Mr. Cosley, his neighbour for the entirety of his sixteen year old life was on his knees, bent over someone familiar with a deep cut in his side, holding a blood-soaked bundle of fabric to the wound.. his once-white shirt torn and blackened by soot.. and a bloodied pitchfork at his side.. It was his father.
"Dad!" he yelled, collapsing beside Mr. Cosley, glancing at the pale face, sprayed with dried blood,
"Wh.. What.." the words stammered from his lips, as tears welled up in his eyes, his mind grasping to make sense.
His father's flesh was pale in the dimming light, failing to raise his head weakly, he rolled it over to look at his son.
"Kobolds.. They came.. From the south.." his throat was hoarse from the smoke, "I got one.. with the fork.. but he cut.. deep.."
Kobolds? Those were just stories to scare children!
The bundle of cloth on his wound was dripping into the grass into a growing pool.
"You can't die," sobs shook his body, his face trailed with tears.
"We all do.. son.. We.." a harsh cough brought up blood, halting his words.
Lifting an arm, Wrack wiped his face of tears and sat up..
Twitching in time
Maya wove her way through the thick folliage climbing up the banks of the small brook just down from where the waterfall fell in a deafening roar, her eyes locked on the small cabbin in the distance. She made her way foward, her gaze never wavering as the gossimar webs that formed her garments left the thinest of trails in the mud behind her.
Maya was growing impatient, had she been able to just carry through on what had been decided this would have all ended by now, instead the pompus arrogant bastard had delivered her with a letter, telling her not to act?! She doubted it.
Maya was a patient woman, but her patience was running out. She would find out why she was still in this skin, she would find out why the whore was still in the cabbin, then she would deal with it herself. As maya was about to grab another small sapling and pull herself up to finally crest the bank she stopped, her nostrils flaring slightly as the faint odour of tobacco began to fill her nose. Her eyes narrowing, Maya scanned the area about her a smirk forming on her lips, "He is here then, now to find somewhere to sit, while I see what he is up to"
Maya was growing impatient, had she been able to just carry through on what had been decided this would have all ended by now, instead the pompus arrogant bastard had delivered her with a letter, telling her not to act?! She doubted it.
Maya was a patient woman, but her patience was running out. She would find out why she was still in this skin, she would find out why the whore was still in the cabbin, then she would deal with it herself. As maya was about to grab another small sapling and pull herself up to finally crest the bank she stopped, her nostrils flaring slightly as the faint odour of tobacco began to fill her nose. Her eyes narrowing, Maya scanned the area about her a smirk forming on her lips, "He is here then, now to find somewhere to sit, while I see what he is up to"
Introduction by Flame - Part 1
Entering New Thalos proper from the east, the sights and were welcome in comparison to the open seas. It was also nice to be on his own two feet again against firm ground. His stomach grumbled, for hunger or being unsettled at the thought of his rocking cabin, he could not tell.
Markets surrounded him with the clanging of blacksmith hammers, the weaving of looms, the shouting of bazaar hawkers, and the haggling of the potential buyers. It was all very eminiscent of Baldur's Gate if to a smaller scale, a place he had only briefly visited in his travels, but it was much cleaner here, and guards appeared to be more useful, as he peered at a man who stood against a wall, his eyes scanning the small crowds.
In the distance to the south west, wisps of smoke and shouting could be seen from somewhere far off as something large appeared to be burning, and the light waft of wood smoke filled his nose..
...
Cool air ran over Wrack's skin as he loped down a small bend in the well-worn path. Slung over his shoulder, the two rabbits would make a fine meal for him and his father tonight, perhaps a stew.. His mouth watered lightly at the thought of the meal.
Overhead, a canopy of large trees blocked out the sky, which was growing darker as dusk slid over the quiet forest of Beregost, and the smell of pine and cedar filled the air, with a hint of campfire off in the distance.
Light birdsong from the branches grew less frequent as the sun dipped lower.
A few deer in the distance could be seen grazing-- he would have to bring his bow next time-- until suddenly their heads looked up as a twig snapped under his foot. The small family of four, three doe and a buck, stared at him in unison, as he stopped dead in his tracks to watch them, surprised by his own misstep.
For only a few moments, they all stood motionless and watching each other, the deer clearly ready to bolt at the slightest movement. Suddenly, the deer all turned their heads northwest.. and a shout could be heard off in the distance.
The campfire smell was stronger now, Wrack smelled at the air and paused, holding his ear in the direction the deer were looking.. towards the village.. and another shout, louder this time, and a howl he did not recognize.
The deer bolted into the trees, disappearing quickly around thick trunks and into dense underbrush..
Something was wrong.
Markets surrounded him with the clanging of blacksmith hammers, the weaving of looms, the shouting of bazaar hawkers, and the haggling of the potential buyers. It was all very eminiscent of Baldur's Gate if to a smaller scale, a place he had only briefly visited in his travels, but it was much cleaner here, and guards appeared to be more useful, as he peered at a man who stood against a wall, his eyes scanning the small crowds.
In the distance to the south west, wisps of smoke and shouting could be seen from somewhere far off as something large appeared to be burning, and the light waft of wood smoke filled his nose..
...
Cool air ran over Wrack's skin as he loped down a small bend in the well-worn path. Slung over his shoulder, the two rabbits would make a fine meal for him and his father tonight, perhaps a stew.. His mouth watered lightly at the thought of the meal.
Overhead, a canopy of large trees blocked out the sky, which was growing darker as dusk slid over the quiet forest of Beregost, and the smell of pine and cedar filled the air, with a hint of campfire off in the distance.
Light birdsong from the branches grew less frequent as the sun dipped lower.
A few deer in the distance could be seen grazing-- he would have to bring his bow next time-- until suddenly their heads looked up as a twig snapped under his foot. The small family of four, three doe and a buck, stared at him in unison, as he stopped dead in his tracks to watch them, surprised by his own misstep.
For only a few moments, they all stood motionless and watching each other, the deer clearly ready to bolt at the slightest movement. Suddenly, the deer all turned their heads northwest.. and a shout could be heard off in the distance.
The campfire smell was stronger now, Wrack smelled at the air and paused, holding his ear in the direction the deer were looking.. towards the village.. and another shout, louder this time, and a howl he did not recognize.
The deer bolted into the trees, disappearing quickly around thick trunks and into dense underbrush..
Something was wrong.
Landing Ashore - Part 2
The young man wavered onto the deck, his stomach queasy from the ship that no longer rocked in the open seas. Grabbing at the railings where he could, he stepped down the gangplank to the New Thalos docks. The air was thick with salt and the fresh catches of fish of the lesser vessels, mingled with the exotic herbs, spices, and tobaccos of the larger trade ships.
At the end of the long dock, he could see the bald-headed Captain Drogol of the ship he was disembarking, The Maiden of Light. The captain finished his quick talk with the dockmaster, tipped his large-brimmed hat, turned on a heel, and walked towards the first inn in sight, an open door into a dark room with a worn and unreadable sign hanging over it.
Approaching the dockmaster, the young man held tightly at the sling pack over his shoulder, but was greeted by a wide smile.
"Good day! I am dockmaster Elbrim, what business brings you to New Thalos?"
"My name is Wrack.." the young man replied, his hands easing into calm, loosening his grip, "and I come seeking knowledge.."
The dockmaster scribbled words into a small notebook, paused, and peered up, "Knowledge, you say? What sort of knowledge?"
"I seek knowledge against the enemies of good in the realms."
Looking at Wrack's face, the dockmaster paused before writing, "That is a noble deed, young man. Where, might I ask, do you hail from?"
"A small village called Beregost, near to Candlekeep," his blue eyes glazed over lightly with a sheen of distant thought.
"Near Candlekeep.. my, you are far from home. I hope you find what you seek.. We could all do with more peace in these realms."
A few more words entered the dockmaster's book, he beamed another smile and turned, walking to meet the captain of another ship just arriving.
Turning to face the city, Wrack began his trek west..
At the end of the long dock, he could see the bald-headed Captain Drogol of the ship he was disembarking, The Maiden of Light. The captain finished his quick talk with the dockmaster, tipped his large-brimmed hat, turned on a heel, and walked towards the first inn in sight, an open door into a dark room with a worn and unreadable sign hanging over it.
Approaching the dockmaster, the young man held tightly at the sling pack over his shoulder, but was greeted by a wide smile.
"Good day! I am dockmaster Elbrim, what business brings you to New Thalos?"
"My name is Wrack.." the young man replied, his hands easing into calm, loosening his grip, "and I come seeking knowledge.."
The dockmaster scribbled words into a small notebook, paused, and peered up, "Knowledge, you say? What sort of knowledge?"
"I seek knowledge against the enemies of good in the realms."
Looking at Wrack's face, the dockmaster paused before writing, "That is a noble deed, young man. Where, might I ask, do you hail from?"
"A small village called Beregost, near to Candlekeep," his blue eyes glazed over lightly with a sheen of distant thought.
"Near Candlekeep.. my, you are far from home. I hope you find what you seek.. We could all do with more peace in these realms."
A few more words entered the dockmaster's book, he beamed another smile and turned, walking to meet the captain of another ship just arriving.
Turning to face the city, Wrack began his trek west..
Unexpected Visitor
Sliver removed its cloak, revealing its self to the the being before it. Heart and mind battled for position. Sliver knew who this was, what he was... and what his people had tried to do to her clan... But something the creature could not describe stopped the actions.
Cursing lightly, Sliver reigned its whips back in, tucking them away. The Thri-kreen cautiously moved over to the seemingly defeated man, looking down upon him as a war waged inside of it's head. A small growl came from the throat of the bug at the frustration the situation caused.
What about this man had Sliver so curious and unable to perform duties it knew should be done? Something tugged the bugs emotions and just wouldn't let Sliver do what the clan would demand it do with such an encounter with such a man. Reaching a hand down to the one before it, Sliver's mind and heart pushed forward, caressing and searching the fallen man's being, measuring his worth and seeking out the source of these odd feelings that prevented the the bug from finishing the man off.
Cursing lightly, Sliver reigned its whips back in, tucking them away. The Thri-kreen cautiously moved over to the seemingly defeated man, looking down upon him as a war waged inside of it's head. A small growl came from the throat of the bug at the frustration the situation caused.
What about this man had Sliver so curious and unable to perform duties it knew should be done? Something tugged the bugs emotions and just wouldn't let Sliver do what the clan would demand it do with such an encounter with such a man. Reaching a hand down to the one before it, Sliver's mind and heart pushed forward, caressing and searching the fallen man's being, measuring his worth and seeking out the source of these odd feelings that prevented the the bug from finishing the man off.
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