The Thelanis Anthology Thread

[Robi3.0]

Welcome it the Thelanis Anthology Thread!
Its is my hope that this thread will become the place where the RP guilds of the server can post stories related to their quested, campaigns or stories just involving characters from their guild.

To avoid confusing and thread clutter I have developed some rules for posting in this thread. They are as fallows:

1. All Rules established by the DDO code of conduct still apply here. (I honestly think that should go with out saying but I said it anyhow, just in case)
2. All post must contain a story. Post making comments about a previously posted story good or bad are prohibited. ( If you wish to make comments about a story you are more than welcomed to start another thread or PM them to the author of the story)
3. You can not post a story that you have not pinned without the permission of the original author. Credit must also be given to the original author. (Again this should go without saying.)
4. All post must fallow this format. The title line of the post must include the name of your series COMMA the name of your current story arc COMMA The chapter number of your current story arc. (Example.... Stories of the Fellowship Guild, Dissention Amongst the Ranks, Chapter 1) *Please note that story arcs finished within one post do not require a chapter number
5. Have fun and be creative.


I hope to see this thread become very active. RP guilds of Thelanis do not let me down!


Story Index

Author: Robi3.0
Title: The Project Chronicles of a Mercenary Company
2007 SIRies Awards For: Best Fight/Battle Scene, Best Quote(s)
New Work Same Old Problems,Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=863589&postcount=2)
New Work Same Old Problems, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=874784&postcount=4)
New Work Same Old Problems, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=910640&postcount=8)
New Work Same Old Problems,Chapter 4
(http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=954554&postcount=12)New Work Same Old Problems, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=977327&postcount=19)
The Way to Tangleroot, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1172854&postcount=59)
The Way to Tangleroot, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1177880&postcount=63)
The Way to Tangleroot, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1180259&postcount=65)
The Way to Tangleroot, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1183930&postcount=66)
A Day Off, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=2110508&postcount=152)
A Day Off, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=2159523&postcount=153)
One Night (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=2316358&postcount=154)
Welcome Home, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=2348488&postcount=155)

Author: Sigtrent
Title: X'en Umbra Stories
2007 SIRies Awards For: Best Quote(s), Honorable Mention
Kurzun, Chapter 1
(http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=863654&postcount=3)

Author: Merlask
Title: The Ambassadors
2007 SIRies Awards For: Series of the Year, Favorite Character (male), Favorite Character (female), Best Fight/Battle scene, Best Love story, Best Bad Guy, Best Supporting Character (female), Achievement in Character Development, Best Quote(s), Best Character Chemistry
Volumn I The Masked Ball
(http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=874855&postcount=5)Volumn II A Voice For Thought
(http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=874860&postcount=6)Volumn III, By Any Other Name, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=884492&postcount=7)
Volumn III, By Any Other Name, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=920019&postcount=10)
Volumn III, By Any Other Name, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=925554&postcount=11)
Volumn III, By Any Other Name, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974539&postcount=13)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974543&postcount=14)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974544&postcount=15)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974552&postcount=16)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974553&postcount=17)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974562&postcount=18)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=979234&postcount=20)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 7 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1016309&postcount=21)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 8 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1016485&postcount=22)
Volumn V, Perspective (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1064003&postcount=24)
Volumn VI Silence (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1086360&postcount=28)
Volumn VII, Ice and Fire, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1093621&postcount=29)
Volumn VII, Ice and Fire, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1098062&postcount=31)
Volumn VIII, The Avatar and the Augur, Chapter 1 (submission in "The Name Project") (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146279&postcount=50)
Volumn VIII, The Avatar and the Augur, Chapter 2(submission in "The Name Project") (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146283&postcount=51)
Volumn VIII, The Avatar and the Augur, Chapter 3 (submission in "The Name Project") (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146284&postcount=52)
Volumn VIII, The Avatar and the Augur, Chapter 4 (submission in "The Name Project") (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146286&postcount=53)
Volumn IX, Transitions, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204375&postcount=71)
Volumn IX, Transitions, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204376&postcount=72)
Volumn IX, Transitions, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204378&postcount=73)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204385&postcount=74)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204467&postcount=75)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204511&postcount=76)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1213911&postcount=84)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246111&postcount=91)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246149&postcount=92)
Volumn XI, The means and the end, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246154&postcount=93)
Volumn XI, The means and the end, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246155&postcount=94)
Volumn XI, The means and the end, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246169&postcount=95)
Volumn XI, The means and the end, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246171&postcount=96)
Volumn XI, The means and the end, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246179&postcount=97)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282444&postcount=101)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282448&postcount=102)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282455&postcount=104)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282457&postcount=103)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282464&postcount=105)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282470&postcount=106)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 7 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282473&postcount=107)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 8 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282476&postcount=108)
Volumn XIII, The Maiden, The Minstrel, & The Marriage, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282762&postcount=109)
Volumn XIII, The Maiden, The Minstrel, & The Marriage, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282781&postcount=111)
Volumn XIII, The Maiden, The Minstrel, & The Marriage, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282782&postcount=110)
Volumn XIV, Spiders & Flies, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284551&postcount=114)
Volumn XIV, Spiders & Flies, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284557&postcount=115)
Volumn XIV, Spiders & Flies, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284559&postcount=116)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284603&postcount=123)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1285054&postcount=124)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1285129&postcount=125)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1286823&postcount=126)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1286882&postcount=127)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1304499&postcount=134)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 7 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1304504&postcount=135)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 8 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1304506&postcount=136)
Epilogue (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1304529&postcount=137)



Author: Multi-author series
Title: The Name Project
2007 SIRies Awards For: Best Supporting Character, Best Quote(s), Honorable Mention
Forward (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146271&postcount=44)
Volumn I, The Watcher(by Points) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146272&postcount=45)
Volumn II, Dances With Kobolds (by Jinna) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146273&postcount=46)
Volumn III, Justhere Tawatch and the Titan Wand (by Jaggie) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146274&postcount=47)
Volumn IV, Rainbow (by Deriaz) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146275&postcount=48)
Volumn V, Rainbow Too (by Zoltando) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146278&postcount=49)
Volumn VI, The Avatar and the Augur Chapter 1 (by Merlask) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146279&postcount=50)
Volumn VI, The Avatar and the Augur Chapter 2 (by Merlask) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146283&postcount=51)
Volumn VI, The Avatar and the Augur Chapter 3 (by Merlask) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146284&postcount=52)
Volumn VI, The Avatar and the Augur Chapter 4 (by Merlask) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146286&postcount=53)

Author: Captain Watcher
Title: Clan Scorpion Imperial
2007 SIRies Awards For: Best Fight/Battle scenes, Best Bad Guy, Best Supporting Character (male), Best Supporting Character (female), Best Monologue
The Lavenders, Timeline of Sho Drizzin the Lavender (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=910950&postcount=9)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112872&postcount=32)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112877&postcount=33)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112879&postcount=34)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112884&postcount=35)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112889&postcount=36)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112895&postcount=37)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 7 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112902&postcount=38)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 8 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112907&postcount=39)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 9 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112912&postcount=40)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 10 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112915&postcount=41)

Author: Trekna Qu'dane
Title: Storms of Xen'drik
2007 SIRies Awards For: Favorite Character (male), Best Quote(s), Honorable Mention
Rain, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1062201&postcount=23)
Rain, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1064307&postcount=25)
Rain, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1187373&postcount=69)

Author: Deriaz
Title: The Brothers Forged
2007 SIRies Awards For: Series of the Year, Favorite Character (male), Best Supporting Character (male), Best Bad Guy, Achievement In Character Development, Best Quote(s), Best Character Chemistry, Best Use of Setting
Encounters, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1071209&postcount=26)
Encounters, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1078919&postcount=27)
Identity Theft, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1093903&postcount=30)
Identity Theft, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1129199&postcount=42)
Identity Theft, part 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1141283&postcount=43)
Questionable Intent, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1169034&postcount=58)
Questionable Intent, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1174996&postcount=60)
Questionable Intent, part 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1185517&postcount=68)
Inside the Mind of a Killer, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204277&postcount=70)
Inside the Mind of a Killer, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1207435&postcount=78)
Inside the Mind of a Killer, part 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1210370&postcount=80)
Inside the Mind of a Killer, part 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1210387&postcount=81)
Jealousy, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1240893&postcount=87)
Jealousy, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1240895&postcount=88)
Jealousy, part 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1240897&postcount=89)
Jealousy, part 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1240903&postcount=90)
Faceless Visitor (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1268406&postcount=99)
The Final Attempt, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284267&postcount=112)
The Final Attempt, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284272&postcount=113)
Changes (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1296048&postcount=133)
Filling In the Holes, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1340301&postcount=138)
Filing In the Holes, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1340302&postcount=139)
Filing In the Holes, part 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1342238&postcount=140)
Filing In the Holes, part 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1343850&postcount=141)
Filing In the Holes, part 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1346018&postcount=142)
Losing Oneself, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1354458&postcount=143)
Losing Oneself, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1354460&postcount=144)



Author: Lessah
2007 SIRies Awards For: Favorite Character (female), Achievement In Character Development, Best Use of Setting
Title: The Halfling War Council In Stormcreach
Prologue/The Assassin’s Note (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1163349&postcount=54)
The Order’s Hall (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1163781&postcount=55)
Soulgate (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1165156&postcount=56)
The Poison (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1168759&postcount=57)
Spider’s Sac (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1175283&postcount=61)
Lerincho Yarbarrow (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1176154&postcount=62)
Title: A Bard's Tale
The Halfling's Conundrum, Prologue & Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282293&postcount=100)
Corvile, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284581&postcount=117)
The Making of a War, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284587&postcount=118)
Vengence, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284590&postcount=119)
The Infirmary, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284592&postcount=120)
The Return of Saldez Boromar, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284593&postcount=121)
Lovely, Chapter 7 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284594&postcount=122)
Genocide, Chapter 8 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1289951&postcount=128)

Author: Musicman
Title: The Merry Pranksters
2007 SIRies Awards For: Best Supporting Character (female), Honorable Mention
The Saga of Killbot, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1184529&postcount=67)
The Saga of Killbot, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1210595&postcount=82)
The Saga of Killbot, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1210609&postcount=83)

Author: Lenric
Title: The Golden Warpriest
Prologue: The Dream (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1262882&postcount=98)
Chapter 1 (part 1) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1293434&postcount=132)

Author: Syriania
Title: The Tale of the Undines Sisters
Character Profiles (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1398863)
Coming Soon (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1398867&postcount=145)


Author: Jaggie
Title:The life of a warforged
Foundry Days (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1845470&postcount=144)

[Robi3.0]

The sun dipped low in the sky as Belbe walked through the streets of the harbor. Wind jabbed briskly in to her eyes and blew her hair askew. She had not come to the harbor in ages, not since she first stepped off the boat and onto the streets of this great city a year ago. She had accomplished much in her first year in the city and thought at she was doing well for an orphan that came from nothing.
Today’s visit to the harbor was not one of nostalgia. This visit was purely business. Beble was to meet a member of her mercenary company to discuss the details of their next job.
Just as the sun dropped below the wall of the market district Belbe rounded a corner and entered the Wayward Lobster, she was late but than again she always was. Once inside the bar she surveyed the face of the patrons to find the one she was to meet with this day.
Sure enough at a table in hidden in a dark corner was the thief named Grimlore. He was about as well hidden as a rogue wearing Full plate could, because that is exactly what he was. The site of, in her opinion very eccentric rogue, always made her smile. She walked over to Grimlore to sit down.
“Greetings, Grim what work have you found for us today.” Belbe said as she pulled out her chair, placed her sheathed bastard sword on the table and sat down. Grim smiled his usually tight lipped smile that showed Belbe that this next job was going to be less than scrupulous. Belbe never minded the thief’s lack of scruples; he always seemed to find the best work honest or not. It just always seem that the less honest the work was the harder it was to accomplish and right now all Belbe wanted was a quick job with a large pay out..
“Well, Belbe how is my favorite Drow Sorceress doing. If you are not doing well you will be for I have found us an easy job with a really big payoff, which we are going to need cause this is the kind of job that we will need to leave town for awhile afterwards.” Grimlore finished than glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Belbe rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair she hated jobs that required leaving town after completion. After all she like it here and didn’t really want to leave, but work had been scarce recently and that powerful need to eat was creepy up on Grim, their friends and her fast.
Belbe sighed and said, “What’s the job.” Grimlore’s instantly brighten as he leaned in really close to whisper in Belbe’s ear.
“Political assassination”, Grimlore said with more then a little awkward joy in his voice. Belbe was more than intrigued she leaned in even closer and asked, “When and who.” Grimlore smiled again not the tight lipped smile of earlier but a big toothy one, because he knew that he had just won over the reluctant Belbe. He than sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his armor clad chest. “A lower Coinlord that has been give his higher ups trouble. They want him taken care of during festivus. All the commotion will provide us the perfect cover for the deed and our escape from the city.”
Belbe cheerfully nodded her approval of Grimlore’s basic plan then said, “gather the rest of Project Mayhem.” She was referring to her group of friends that comprised the core of he mercenary company; she loving called them this because it always seem at whenever they got together mayhem insued. “Tell them to meet at the usual spot in house P tomorrow night to discuss the details and to formulate a solid plan.” Belbe than nodded farewell and took her leave. Grimlore was left sitting in the bar by himself pondering tomorrow night. He than got up and walked out of the bar a few moments later.

[sigtrent]

Kurzun entered the shadow garden with a swift beating heart. No matter how he tried to calm himself with mental exercises he could not. Meeting with his father had always set his heart racing and his brow to sweating. Of course this only added to his duress as it was embarrassing to show such weakness and lack of control in the presence of his revered lord.

He paused a moment to contemplate the garden and gain some measure of composure. It was a masterwork in the subtle arts horticulture and architecture. Exotic and rare plants from around Xendrik were carefully cultivated and pruned not only to be pleasing in shape and color, but more so to cast an intricate web of shadows upon the walkways and walls. It was especially enchanting on a night like this, when the moon is bright and the shadows are deep. Wild shapes could be seen in the shadow play, jungle creatures, runes of power, terrible giants, and all seemed alive as the gentle breezes shook the trees. Kurzun took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet and earthy scents, listening to the soft song of the insects that lived in the garden, and forcing himself to be still for a few moments.

It helped a little, but Kurzun couldn’t stop feeling his father’s eyes watching him from every dark and unseen corner. He flinched slightly as a golden beetle flew close past his face. Sighing, he forced himself to march forward into the heart of the garden where his father, the high lord of his clan, the great arch mage Azrahorus awaited him.

Kurzun entered the central courtyard of the shadow garden at a brisk walk. He quickly stopped stiffly and bowed in the military fashion awaiting acknowledgement. After a few moments he heard his father speak.

“Oh Kurzun, no need for all that. We are family my child. Raise your head and try to relax a little. You are a prince, not a guardsman.”

Raising his eyes Kurzun looked upon his father, the mighty Azrahorus, and once again took a deep slow breath before speaking. Like the garden, his the arch-mage was a subtle masterwork of nature. Deep black skin, long flowing white hair, and a near perfect symmetry of form. Azrahorus wore as little as was polite in drow society, possibly less, so every toned muscle and graceful curve of his body was on display. He needed no jewelry as scintillating beetles of gold, purple, and red crawled about in his hair and on his skin like living gemstones. The man was very intimidating.

“Yes my lord, umm, father.” Kurzun said quietly. “I only have the greatest respect for you sir. To stand before a legend makes one want to bend lest he be broken.”

“Clever words my son, were I a lesser man I’d be flattered by them. As it stands I am somewhat disappointed. A prince should be more prideful, even if he stands little chance of taking a throne.” Azrahorus moved to stand close to his son and put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve not spent much time with one another son, but we are blood. I’ll not have you whipped for insolence or misbehavior, but fear… that I have little time for. Many of your elder brothers are fools in their own right, but you could learn from them how to temper your natural fear with ambition.”

Kurzun looked into his fathers glowing red eyes, “Should I kill you know then, or wait until after you tell me why I’ve been called here?”

[Robi3.0]

Kirshank sat patiently waiting for his friends to arrive they where of course late and he had already downed two mugs of ale and was working on the third. He gazed around the bar and contemplated hitting on the bar wench while he waited for the arrival of his friends. He needed to do something to combat the boredom.

He quickly drained his third mug and raised very agley for someone how was more than half drunk and wearing a full suit of armor. He walked up to the bar and positioned him self at the prefect angle from the bar wench to order another mug and make his move. He was about to deliver his best line when a cloaked figure set between him in the young wench.
“Don’t you think that you have had enough?’ came a soft and melodious voice out from under the hood of the cloak. Kirshank scowled, “What do you mean had enough I have only had two maybe three that’s not even half of my best number.”

It was than that Belbe removed the hood from her face and with a teasing smile said, “I was referring to the young human girl” Kirshak shrugged, “Blah, I can never have enough of those. I wouldn’t expect you to understand you’re not a man or human for that matter.” Belbe just smiled and moved from the bar towards their usual table.

Kirshank stayed at the bar, long enough to order two more mugs of ale. He walked back to his table where Belbe was sitting and sat down in front of her. He than leaned over the table grabbed one mug of ale and quickly drained it in one massive gulp; he than slammed it upside down onto the table in front of him. He than began to sip from the second mug.
Belbe just sat there and watched all of this purely amazed that a man even one the size of Kirshank could consume so much strong drink so fast without any noticeable effect. Kirshank was almost finished with his sixth mug before he noticed that two more people had joined Belbe and him at the table. The full plated rogue with the Mohawk was his good friend Grimlore, but the short stubby dwarf was someone he could not recognize, He than looked to Belbe for some explanation.

Once Belbe had more of Kirshank attention than his mug did she began, “Glad to see everyone one made it. Kirs the dwarf you have just drunkly noticed is Baedor; he is a lowerling in the guild Grim and I brought him in as extra muscle for this job. You guys can have a drinking contest on my bar tab later if you so wish. Right now though business only.” Kirshank glared at Belbe he hated new people not cause he was unsociable but rather because he hate sharing loot. One more always meant less gold for everyone one especially the one person he care about most, HIM.

Over the next hour Belbe and Grimlore detailed the plan that would be carried out the next week. Belbe had managed to book them as guards on an expedition leaving for the Tangleroot gorge the day after the assassination and with a little negotiation and a bribe of the first day’s wages manage to convinced head taskmaster to put them on the travel log as reporting for duty in the early morning the day of the assassination. Belbe was always good with people like that. Kirshank was glad that she was able to secure an alibi just in case something went wrong; foresight was one thing that made Belbe a good leader.

Grimlore than went on to explain that the inside man that was arranged for the contract had given them all they needed to make this a quick and easy job. The Coinlord was scheduled to attend a play celebrating the festivus season. On the way to theater the Coinlord’s carriage would become lost and wonder seemingly mistakenly to the end of a dead end street. At that point Kirshank disguised, by Grimlore, to look like a homeless bagger would step out from the shadows to block the carriage from turning around and escaping.This of course was Kirshanks favorite part of the plan, because it was crazy. Kirshank loved crazy more than strong drink and women combined. During the confusion the rest of the party would drop to the street from the roof tops and dispatch with the unguarded Coinlord and the Traitorous carriage driver after all the contract issuer wanted no witnesses left alive.

Half way through Kirshanks tenth mug Grimlore stop speaking abruptly and looked at Belbe cleared his throat and said, “I have taken the liberty of finding a safe house to stay for the night after the assassination.” Belbe eyed him suspiciously, and asked,”That is good, but where is it?” Grimlore looked away as if not want to reveal its location. “It’s at the home of our unguilded ally Falas Underwood.” Belbe stood up eyes bursting into twin flaming stars of rage. “WHAT, You know how I feel about him being involved in guild operations such as this.” Grimlore stood squared his shoulders and firmed his stance. “Belbe I don’t get you he can tag along when we are smuggling china dolls but he can’t help us out on any of the really important missions. Why is that; besides I could find no one else” Belbe’s eyes began to cool she looked down at the table and said, “I have my reasons. He is not to know anything other than we need a place to stay for the night. NO details.” Grimlore smiled his big toothy grin and said, “As you wish.”

The rest of the meeting was uneventful and Kirshank spent most of the time thinking about the bar wench. The others soon left leaving Kirshank sitting with his mountain of mugs. He stood walked over to the bar and fell down drunk. He thought to himself as he slipped in to ale induced slumber, “The wench will have to wait.”

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn I "The Masked Ball"

*Uxor sat quietly at the upper tables in the back of the Phoenix Tavern. Down below, the antics of patrons involved in a heated brawl could be seen. In retrospect, she was rather glad that they'd moved the location of the ball to the Livewood Theatre. The crowd in the Phoenix had steadily been growing to be quite rough. Though she would not have minded a healthy spat with the other fighting types.*

*Combat oriented by trade, she knew nothing of hosting a proper party, so she had turned to the one type of professional she knew was familiar with this line of work - a bard. She'd contacted Varro to help with taking care of lose ends and posting signs for the up coming ball, and to help with a bit of the planning. She was a little surprised to get a message from him in the mail box 'requiring' her to come to this location in the Phoenix. Varro was not a serious man. In fact, he was the least serious and most flippant man she knew. . . so coming from him, it was unexpected to say the least. Required. . . he'd actually written that word in the message.*

*She had only just pulled out the message and started to reread it trying to fathom what it was that a trickster bard could be so serious about when she heard footsteps coming up the ramp. Again she was as surprised as she'd been to receive the note. Uxor was quite prepaired to see someone other than Varro as he rounded the pillar onto the platform, shoving a few chairs out of his path. Varro was usually always in a hurry, dashing along with his speed magic - she couldn't really fault him, she loved the stuff herself when she could get it - but these footsteps dragged up the ramp, stomping almost. The body that came attached to these slowly thumping feet was the most haggard looking Varro she'd ever seen.*

*Uxor quickly realized it was not just appearence either. As he came closer, she caught a strong smell of alcohol upon him. She guessed if she breathed heavily too near him she could get tipsy off the fumes. He was lunking a wooden box with him, and a large sack, both of which he heaved onto the table in front of her, narrowly missing her ale. She heard the clang of various metals as he haphazardly flopped it in front of her, while he stammered into a chair*

Varro: There you are.

*Uxor quirked a brow at him. Mute though she was, Varro was quite good at guessing her meanings by her postures usually - though in his present state, she wasn't entirely certain how apt he was to catch on. She eyed the bag and box with her white brows raised at him still*

Varro: Go on, take a peek. All yours.

*She sighed and decided to humor the drunken 'minstrel' and lifted the lid on the box. She had barely allowed light to hit it when she abruptly let the lid fall, having caught a glimpse of the contents. . . glittering, shining, and silvery in hue. She hissed at him between her teeth - TSS! - he knew that to be her 'what has gotten into you' sound*

Varro: As I said, it's yours *He picked up her ale and began to sip it. It was difficult to say whether or not he realized it was her ale, or that he'd already put in an order for his own moments before, and left it on the bar*

*She looked in the bag, though she knew she'd regret doing so. Knowing she would regret did not soften the sight however. There was a collection of things within the bag. Bracers... belts... a crossbow... in conjunction with the sight of the helm, she knew these items, though not in their current presentation. Gestures were not going to be sufficiant for this conversation*

*She quickly turned over one of the flyers for the ball and began scrawling her thoughts upon it for him. She hoped he was as yet able to read still. He watched her write seeming to have expected the reaction*

Uxor: *scribbling across the scroll and turning it towards him* "What is the meaning of this? Where did all this money come from?? And why are you giving me these, these are Endaria's things"

*Varro answered each of her questions as he read them, taking a swig of ale with each reply* I told you, it's yours. I meant what I said, that is the meaning. "All this money" was hers. As were these things. They're yours now.

*Uxor started to scratch out a nasty reply to him* "Are you pawning your wife's things to cover a debt, because if she finds . . . " *but she stopped, noting his mood. He was not smiling in the way of one who was laughing their cares off. He was smiling as one who no longer cared - one who'd given up utterly. She crossed out the words before she'd turned them round to him, and instead presented him with* "What do you mean "was" and "were" hers?"
*slowly pushing the note towards him*

Varro: What I mean is . . . she's gone.
*Uxor watched him with her serious and blank expression a moment, then slowly wrote the words* "she left you?"

Varro: *he snarled a short laugh* well if she had, I doubt she'd have given me her belongings! Wives aren't known for that when they leave you. Dead, Uxor, not 'left' me, DEAD! *he snapped at her, slamming the empty mug down on the table. He lashed a hand out at her writing stick and wrote very broadly the letters "D-E-A-D" on her parchment* she's DEAD...gone...departed... how else do you want me to explain it to you hmm?? *he nearly snapped her writing stick in his hand, but some part of his rational convinced him to do otherwise, and instead he slapped it down on the table*

*Uxor didn't know why she bothered, but she calmly retrieved her stick, and started to write "rest sh" but he cut her short*

Varro: I've already tried that

*she wrote the letter "R" and again he interjected*

Varro: Resurrection, yes, well if THAT solved my problem I don't think I'd be sitting here talking to you

*she angled her head frustrated at him, and wrote "what happened?"*

Varro: *he coiled his fingers round the mug of ale staring at it* She went out for the night... helping some folks plunder a temple I'm told... She fell in battle, and they waited for her to return to the brother they'd bound themselves with... only she never showed. They fought back into the temple for her soul stone, but they found none. They found only her body. They took her to a shrine, but she wouldn't wake. They sought me out, but this was beyond my knowledge. I took her body to every priest I know, to shrines, to churches. . . none could revive her. They told me *he trailed off, but looking at Uxor's chilling gaze, he knew he could not stop talking now.* they said either something is preventing her from returning, or... she doesn't want to. I questioned her companions thoroughly - they're not lying about the excursion or the nature of her death. *he closed his eyes as she started to write the words "silver flame?" "priests?" "speak with dead?"* None were even able to contact her in the beyond. *he stopped talking, staring at the bag on the table*

*Uxor followed his eyes to the bag. He had taken every action she could have recommended to him. There were no other paths she could suggest to him. She started to write "I am so sorry" but it sounded...cheap. She reached out and coaxed one of his hands off the mug, clasping her hand round his wrist, and his wrist round hers in turn, and sheltered his hand in hers this way to show her support. He rested his head in his other hand, finally withdrawing it from the mug. She noticed how entirely unkept he was. He hadn't shaved for some time, his hair was falling round his face from out of his usual pullback, his eyes were red and tired, and his complexion was rivaling hers in how pale it was. He looked dreadful. She knew he felt so too.*

*It was horrible. So many times she'd fallen, he'd fallen, Endaria had fallen, while out adventuring. To think that at any time someone might not be able to be revived was shocking.*

*she sat a long while with him, letting him speak his mind to her. Uxor felt a little sorry for him, as he rattled off things about himself and Endaria that, had he been more coherant, he probably would not have said. She watched to make sure no one was paying attention to them or their conversation, and tried to steer his conversation away from sensitive matters with her writing when she could. Conspiracies, the House Deneith, the Quori, his considerations ran wild with what it was that had befallen Endaria.
some things she sighed at hearing, knowing full well she'd have to keep them to herself the remainder of her life, for they were best left unsaid from that day forward. She wished she knew half as much about her own life as what Varro spilled to her about his.*

*Once she'd gotten him relatively calm once more, she wrote carefully* "Varro, I cannot accept these things, this money. Don't you want to keep it? "

Varro: *he shook his head and started to reach into the sack* No. She would have wanted you to have some of these. I have taken those things that I wish to, to remember her. *he pulled out a set of bracers and set them in her hands* These will help you run faster. I know how much you like that. If you get enjoyment from them, it would make her happy. *he set a pair of goggles in her hand* these will shroud you so you can't be seen. She used to call you 'the snowy scout' so I thought you'd get good use of them. *he shrugged a little* the rest, sell if it doesn't please you.

*Uxor shook her head and wrote "you would get better prices" but eyed the items in the crook of her arm. It was good to have something to remember her by. She wrote a little more*"Thank you Varro. I will think of her when they save my life as she often saved mine"

Varro: *he nodded* She enjoyed your company Uxor, even if it was spent teaching her new ways to pick on me *he sighed reflecting at first fondly, then turning to a scowl* the memories will be the death of me I think.

*Uxor scowled herself at his thinking. It was one thing to miss someone, to be sad... but this attitude was going to stop - now. She pushed a new parchment under his nose that she wrote while he was distracted in his depressed thoughts.* "Do you know what my name means?"

*Varro looked down and was a bit baffled by the question. He had to read it twice to make sure he understood what she meant* No

*she had a very dark glare as she wrote* "It means "wife." Do you know who I was married to? Before coming to Stormreach?

*he shook his head - he had no idea what her life had been before he chanced to meet her*

*She wrote quickly and if the stick had been a knife, her words might kill, by the look on her face anyway. She shoved the paragraph at him* "NEITHER DO I. My name was given to me when I was a slave - what my real name was I have no idea. I know it was a name meant to distinguish what it was I did before coming to slavery. I have no memory of my life. Who I was, who my family was. The memories were taken from me. So perhaps you should be a bit more thankful for the memories that you get to keep."

*He reflected on her words quietly.*

*she had run out of room on the paper, and began a new sheet, turning over a scroll of bull's strength, scratching out* "I will take these items. They will bring me fond memories. But only on the condition that I not be required to take the money. Instead, I'd like you to find a better use for it"

Varro: Such as?

*her harsh expression slid to a more light hearted, and empathetic, look* "You're still going to help me find bouncers for the front door of the party, yes?"

Varro: *he nodded* Yes. That is my gift to you. *he didn't mention that he had made a promise to Endaria to help*

*Uxor smiled broader, so much so that her eyes closed from it like a contented cat, and she shrugged as she wrote* "Pay the doormen $1000 plat each for their job then. Use the money to comission them with. If you're so insistant that I have the money, then that is what I wish done with it."

*Varro choked on his own spit a moment. He was not yet so far that he didn't realize that her suggestion was a considerable amount of money* You're serious? *he lowered his voice* A thousand plat a man?

*she nodded and crossed her arms*

Varro: you do realize you'll get every mercenary this side of the sea with a comission like that?

*she shrugged again, writing* "that is why you're going to help me screen them. We'll write contracts for them. If they want the cash, they obey the contracts. Simple as that"

Varro: You are, by far, the wierdest strong arm I know Uxor. What's with the sudden generosity?

*she didn't react to his comment, nor did she deny it, and instead responded in paper to his second* "I consider this to be the balance of karma is all. I am sure there is a fair amount of money I've taken from crypts and dungeons of this city that once belonged to good people. I'm also certain that money has been spent to preserve my life in battle. I consider this to be atoning for these issues is all"

Varro: *he grumbled* you and your Karma. Well, since your 'karma' you talk about has thrown me ash to eat, it seems I'm in need of some balance - if I can believe in that. I'll do as you ask... but I'm not coming to the dance

*Her smile faded. She had somehow expected that he would not come... not after the news of Endaria's demise.* "If you're going to kill yourself, remember that you're sworn to help me. Don't bother trying until afterwards" *she was only half teasing. She suspected very much to hear that he too didn't return from the other side if she left him unattended.*

Varro: Yes well, I never 'swore' to come to the dance did I. Only to help you get ready for it.

*She rolled her eyes. Varro and his semantics.* "I wish you would come. I don't expect you to be 'happy' but I think being around others would do you good." *she sighed and followed with* "However, I am not your keeper. What you do with your life is your own karma to endure."

Varro: *he didnt make further comment on the subject* Come, let us draft up these contracts of yours then. . .

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn II - "A Voice For Thought"

*Varro waited patiently in the guild hall, where Uxor's message had instructed him to go.
He found the place quite private, despite the open nature of the structure. There were many quiet places one could slip into, many people coming and going from it, each on their own business... it was easy to become part of the background. No one asked him questions he didn't feel like answering. No one badgered him for his purpose. They extended their fellowship to him, and had asked for little from him in return. It was in his nature to distrust such an arrangement. After weeks undisturbed however, his reclusive mood was weakening.
He missed his wife with deathly longing... he still did... and perhaps that would have been the result ultimately if left to his own devices. But Uxor had needled him and watched over him like a hawk. She swore she didn't care what he did with his life, and that his choices were his own, but he found that without him even realizing it, she had managed to manipulate his doings. She had kept him busy for weeks with her errands pertaining to her Masked Ball. After the ball, he still had no peace...
When he went to the bars to drink, she joined him for drinking contests - she always won. Her endurance for the draft was far better than his.
If he hopped in the pit to start a fight, she was the first to leap down and bop him over the head with the hilt of her sword. When he finally came round, he'd find himself in his home with food on his table and a note from her appologizing for 'playing too rough.' He was less inclined to even go to the pit once he learned of the rumors going round about Uxor dragging him through town by his leg in a drunken and concussioned stupor.
He couldn't adventure without the feel that his intentions were being watched, even if he wasn't out adventuring with her. He always sensed that there was someone among his companions who was an agent of hers sent to ensure he wasn't doing something purposefully lethal to himself. Thus his notion of going down in a blaze of musical glory, off to persue his wife in the great beyond, was crushed.
Uxor had offered him the chance to join the Fellowship in the hopes that it would be a place of sanctuary for him. A place where he could nurse his emotional hurts without question, and yet still find a sense of being needed. She said it would be good for him. He scowled, hating that she had been right.

Uxor strode in and brushed off the grime and gore of fighting from her armor. Seeing Varro waiting for her as she'd requested brought her to smile, one of the only displays she could make that warmed her features. She brought out her writing impliments and started scribbling away on the parchment as she approached him. He slid down the bench to allow her a spot to sit, shaking his head at her*

No hello even before you start your planning?

*She only smiled further at his comment, making the hissing sound that he knew to be her way of laughing, turning the note around toward him. He could see that she had added in a "hello" to humor him, squeezing the word in at the top...but it was obviously the last thing she'd written. The rest followed as: "I have a favor to ask you. I know that I've probably exhausted all my favors with you, but this is an arrangement that I think you'll find enjoyable."*

*He eyed the note and sighed a bit* Alright, out with it.

*she continued to scrawl on the parchment quickly - he knew that this meant she would be writing a long explaination - as he leaned back against the wall awaiting his sentence. He knew even if he had an objection to her 'favor' there would be no getting out of it. He was good at semantics, but she was very analitical, and had come to be very aware of his mannerisms. It was harder to slip things by her now... he had to settle for small victories at times.*

*She turned the parchment back to his hand, having carried the words over to the other side of it. He cringed seeing she'd written right over top of a scroll of bless. One day he'd teach her to sell the blasted things and buy parchment, rather than wasting the scrolls. She insisted it was because of the heat of combat, and the need for immediate writing... if she ran out of parchment on the road, she would sacrifice a scroll without thinking twice of it. He started to read her words*

"I need you to deliver a message to another guild for me. More over, that is not the favor - that is only a part of the favor. I have had long talks with the Lady of the Fellowship, and other high ranking members. We will be reaching out to several guilds in our city with an offer of alliance and friendship with them. This requirse a need for a representative *he didn't have to read much further to understand the purpose of the letter, but he did so anyway* to communicate our interests to them. If I am to do this duty, I need help. I can write many a heart felt and formal letter, but the power of speech and art is yours. I need you to be my voice Varro. I trust you with my life and know that you have a way of handling yourself among those of a quick tongue and wit. Will you help me?"

*Varro handed her the parchment* And your comrades would trust me as you do?

*she scrawled out* "correction. Our comrades. You're a part of this fellowship too - you might not feel it, but you are. But yes, they understand that I need someone with a bit more charismatic appeal. I am blunt. Bluntness is a good quality for writing, but a poor one for smoothing over disagreements between guild forces. If trouble arose, you would phrase your case with more care and tact than I would. Tact and tactics are different animals I am afraid. My speciality *she drew an arrow and circled "tactics"*"

*He knew that from anyone else he could take her words to be merely fluff for his ego. But he knew she was not the type to conspire... infact, she was never known to be two faced, even to her enemies. He nodded* explain your conditions to me and duties, and I will consider doing you this favor.

*She furrowed her brows and wrote* "No semantics, Varro."
*he feigned innocence at the comment, and she continued* "Either you want to help me or you don't. Ask questions, but don't make me spell everything out just so you can think of ways around it. I am not in the mood for games. I approached you with this because I thought you might appriciate feeling needed. I thought you might enjoy the chance to rub elbows and feel important. Mostly I thought you might enjoy getting recognized for your skills with this sort of thing. Was I wrong?"

*he smiled slightly - it was fun sometimes to see her so bent out of shape over simple jokes. She was right, she definately was blunt sometimes* No, infact, you were more right than you know. Might be nice to get out from under your constant gaze after all. *he shrugged a little*

*She wrote with a glare at the page* "I like to think that I'm your friend Varro. What's more, you might feel like I have my thumb on you, but that's because I owe it to your wife's memory to make sure you are safe, so long as that is within my power. If you're..."

*he was reading over her shoulder and reached out to stop her from writing further* No more, no more. I will do this favor for you. *he tried to stifle the smile on his face at seeing he'd completely managed to bend her out of shape* I also like to think we're friends, and I appriciate your concern for me. If it makes you feel better, being here has righted my outlook on things. If these folk trust your judgement, then I will help you.

*She nodded slightly, but wrote further* "If you accept this, there is something more I must ask. You must swear to me that if you fall in your ventures, that you will always accept a ressurection... from a preist or otherwise. If you cannot swear this to me, then you cannot do my favor."

*He was quiet, staring at the parchment for a long time, his smile having faded. He said quietly* You really think I want to die, don't you?

*She shook her head and took the paper back, trying to think of how to express what she felt. She settled on writing* "I think you really want to see Endaria again"

*He nodded slightly* You are right. And you are wrong. I will, however, swear to you that I will accept ressurection in whatever form it may come. Endaria is in the afterlife, and thus, she has eternity to wait for me.

*This seemed to satisfy Uxor, and she wrote* "Very well. There is another that I wish for you to meet with to discuss further details, he is someone you will more than likely work with frequently, as he is also an Ambassador... and I should like to give you a proper introduction to the Lady. *she paused her pen strokes a moment, resuming with* thank you for this."

*He played off her seriousness with his usual flippant comments* Yeah yeah, well I can't have you moping about if I said no *she knew it to mean "you're welcome"*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn III, Chapter 1 - "By Any Other Name"

*Varro shuffled in with a bundle in his arms, moving immediately for Uxor.
She didn't interrupt her meal, watching and knowing that he had some tidbit or news... or something that had him darting at her like like an overly stimulated kobold.*

Varro: Look at this...just look at it *he rummaged through the bag pulling out green fabric* can you believe I found it lying around in the Pit no less! A little wash and it's good as new. Better even with some extra care *he was picking over the stiches* Here here, put it on

*Uxor did stop chewing this time. The mute woman raised a brow at his request, angling her head with disapproval*

Varro: No no, seriously Uxor, here, try it on. *he pushed the bundle towards her*

*Uxor rolled her eyes and set her food aside, pulling out the green bundle. She noticed a host of colored cloths in the bag, nodding at them questioningly*

Varro: Don't worry about those. I'll explain in a moment. Just humor me and put it on. You can pull it over your armor if you're not inclined to go change... though I'd appriciate it if you did - I won't peak *he grinned at her*

*Uxor shook her head and pointed towards a side room. She was not about to change out in the middle of the guild hall, and certainly not infront of Varro, to what she guessed would be his great disappointment*

Varro: Fine, have it your way. I'll wait here. Come out and let me see it on you

*After a time, Uxor came out wearing a long flowing green garment, with a tight collar that reached almost the full length of her neck. It was very form fitting. She held the rest of the bundle in a hand and came out, sulking and crossing her arms*

Varro: Excellent. Turn around and let me see.

*though she did as he asked, it was not long before she'd retrieved her wrtiing impliment and was scribbling away on some parchment, holding out the paper to him. It read* "Varro...this...is a dress. These are all dresses" *and she worked her mouth from one side to the other with disdain*

Varro: *reading over her note* What? No...No no no, these my friend are Robes. This one you're wearing fetches quite a heafty price on the market. Robe of Acid they call it. Bit hard to come by. *as she had stopped turning for him, he walked round her in a circle* Looks great on. Here, try one of the others

*She shook her head, writing* "I look silly"

Varro: *he walked back around front of her* Well that's rediculous. You look great. You're just used to that bulky plate and chain. You strong arms are all the same...put something delicate on you and you're crawling and squirming like black pudding. In fact *he rubbed the tuft of hair on his chin* I'd say the true silliness is you hiding that figure under copius amounts of unflattering figure-obscuring metal.

*She gnarled her nose at him, writing* "keeps me alive. Life over fashion any day"

Varro: Yes well, in any event, you've unintentionally brought me to my point. I'm going to be hosting a fashion show for the city. I want to see the finest attire... the most shining armors... the swirls of intricate cloth weavings. Rare, beautiful, and decadant! House Jorasco has agreed to let me hold the event on their grounds...and they've provided an excellent backdrop for it. I'm going to be posting some flyers, but I need you to pose for me so I can get some sketches made up for the flyers.

*She shook her head 'no no no'*

Varro: Oh yes yes yes. You owe me little missy. See I'm rather coming to like this arrangement you and i have. You scratch my back, and I scratch yours. Isn't that how it goes? And it's my turn to be scratched in the initiative.

*She narrowed her eyes at him, stomping her foot*

Varro: Sorry, that's not going to get you out of it. And no, you've not had an end to this conversation. Come, it's not like I'm going to make you actually work in the show...although *he looked up pondering the posibility*

*Uxor's eyes widened a little, and she shook her head no furverently, followed by writing* "I will help with the sketches ...intead."

Varro: Sheesh, you'd think I asked you to dance in a wall of fire. Here, you'll need to try the rest on to make sure they fit. I'll need several drawings to pick from

*Uxor wrote out* "Are you just doing this to somehow get under House D's skin?"

Varro: Me? Never. What's wrong with holding some nice festivities for the city? The Coin Lords shine on such activities. If my doing this did happen to step on the toes of some nobleman, well...

*their conversation was interrupted by the approach of footsteps in the guild hall. A woman was silouetted in the light of the door, then one with the dim of the hall as she closed the door behind her. Neither of them recognized her, so Varro called out*

Varro: Greetings traveller. What brings you among us?

*The woman walked towards them with a smile. Uxor rightly didn't know why, but when she looked on her, she felt a wave of uneasiness pass over her. Fear. Outright fear, and a distant memory welled up briefly, which she quickly suppressed. She didn't like this, and was inclined to slip back for her weapons, which were in the room behind, but Varro didn't seem particularly alarmed by her.*

*The woman seemed to be Drow in nature...a bit light skinned even for one, but the ears and eyes were close enough to distinguish her as not being elven - though her features were quite 'normal' at a glance. Her hair was a vivid red, and her lips matched the hair in tone. What unsettled Uxor the most was her walk. She glided across the floor, almost slinked, in a way that was entirely not drow. Nor was it elven. It was something else. The woman nodded at the two of them and said* You must be Varro - I recogized you. Not familiar with your friend there *she lifted her chin in a sort of reversed nod of acknowledgement* but I am called Mekari.

*Before she'd even gotten to her name, Varro's demenour changed now. He seemed...irritated. He didn't look at Uxor, but said* Uxor, why don't you go ahead and keep those robes for me. We'll find another time to continue. I'll be at my place if you need me. Mekari is it? Please, come with me.

*Uxor watched the two of them go, and she immediately set about changing her clothing to something more combat worthy. She didn't like this. But she realized her armor would attract attention. So she left the robe on, and slipped on her bracers and goggles instead, casting their magics upon herself to be both fast and invisible, and then crept after the two of them. *

*It was uncanny. Neither of them spoke the whole walk there, they simply walked along side one another. Uxor feared it was perhaps an assassin, or at least a hired thug sent to give Varro a 'message.' Varro seemed to be somewhat aware of whoever this Mekari was. She tried to stay in range of them to pick up on anything important. She realized a flaw in her plan. Once they got to Varro's home, there would be little chance of her slipping in behind them unseen. She looked around and considered if she could somehow beat them there. They weren't running...or even walking fast. She had a key to Varro's door, so she knew she could slip inside provided she got there with enough distance between them*

*Uxor dropped back and let them pass a little bit further ahead. Her intended route was going to be less than stealthy... especially in broad daylight. She couldn't take the chance of one of them looking over a shoulder and catching a glimpse of her, or seeing her out of the corner of their eye. Once she was confident that there was enough of a gap, she surveyed the structures around her, and slipping into an allyway, she began clambering on top of the buildings. She lept from structure to structure; shimmied over beams and walkways; shuffled across ledges by her fingers; she was still graced with the benefits of the invisibility and quickness... though anyone with a particularly good spot would notice a transluscent shape flying across rooftops with all speed*

*She jumped down from the roof into the streets before Varro's abode. She glanced back to make certain she'd beat them to it. Confident that she'd managed to work her way ahead of them, she let herself in, glancing round to see if anyone would notice, and tried to find somewhere to crouch down in obscurity. She settled with slipping into the spare bedroom, crouching behind the bed, and praying they wouldn't find need to come in there. If the lights came on, no matter how small she made herself, she was completely liable to be noticed*

*She waited there hunkered down like a scared rabbit for quite some time, until she heard the click of the door opening. She didn't know why, but she felt afraid for Varro. She realized in her rush she didn't have a thing to defend him even if it did come to that. No weapon, no armor... and more than likely this Mekari was a spell caster. She was a sitting duck. All she could hope for now was that she went unseen, and that Varro could defend himself.*

*She heard them moving about the room, and the sound of something scooting on the floor, followed by a 'thud', and Varro's voice, and the reply of the female voice. It took her a moment to focus on what was being said...they were in the other room. She realized they were speaking Quori. Varro had taught her to speak it somewhat...enough for them to communicate with each other. Why were they speaking Quori?? She had only ever heard Varro speak it in hushed tones, and usually when something sensitive was being said that wasn't to be overheard. The woman seemed confident in it, rattling it back. She focused hard trying to understand what was being said. . . *

Varro: [So good of you to 'check up' on me "Mekari"... or whatever name it is you're using these days]
Mekari:
Varro: [Yes well, you'll have to excuse me if I don't exactly have the easiest time keeping them all straight. Nice face by the way - could stand to be a little darker though, you look like an elven drow mutt]
Mekari: [choice words . . . from one who knows so much about illegitimate unions. Though your father and I like to refer to it as 'planar mingling' or something else kinder than mutt, my dear]
Varro: [What game are you onto Elena? You must want something... you never come to spend quality time.]

*Father? Uxor's rapidly translating mind derailed a little on that chain of banter. Was this woman really who she was understanding her to be? If so, why was she so afraid of her? She wished she'd gotten further with her training to push fear aside completely, but that stage of her learning was not yet here. She considered the possibilities, trying to tune back into what they were saying*

Varro: [...nerve. You think you can just shuffle out of my life and return to play games when it suits your fancy. So what was the draw this time, hm? Some Lord send you to spy on me?]
Mekari: [Don't play victim with me, it's not becoming of you. I taught you better. I just thought I should check in and see how you were handling your loss.]
*Varro scawfed at her*
Mekari: [No, it's true. When I heard of it, I needed to find you. To be certain you were doing well.]
Varro: [yes, well, as you can see, I'm alive, I'm eating, and life goes on]
Mekari: [I just know how much she meant to you. When your father died, it was trying on me. . . ]
Varro: [Don't. Don't even compaire your experience to mine. Especially over a man I barely knew of to even speak a name]
Mekari: [Well, in any event, I'm going to be keeping my eye on you for a little while - in a way perhaps closer than usual. Though I've gathered much information in my searching for you. You've made quite the party-man of yourself around town, Minstrel]
Varro: [And just how's that. Planning on rooming with me? ]
Mekari:
Varro: [I think I liked you better when you pretended to be a bard]
Mekari: [Always the poison tongue] *she laughed a little* [Actually, I think you'll find my services most beneficial to your fellowship.]
Varro: [Don't bother]
Mekari: [It's a little late for that now. You see, I met a lovely man who's already accepted me among their fold. I haven't made mention of our connection in the least, out of kindness. I'll be filling in among your ranks]
Varro: [What? No...that isn't going to be happening. I forbid it. One word from me and you'll be kicked out on the street so fast your body will get there before your clothes.]
Mekari: [Is that so? See, I thought you might say something like that, so I thought i had better remind you that it would behove you to play nice. You see, I'd hate to have to be the one to break it to them about your marriage. Imagine what your little pale skinned lady friend might think?]

*Uxor almost sank through the floor at hearing herself mentioned in the conversation in translation. Her heart sank down as well at hearing Varro's silence. Whatever it was about his past was dreadful enough to silence him over the issue. She heard movement in the room again*

Mekari: [I suggest you keep that in mind should the urge to have me removed from among your fold cross your thoughts. Play nice though, and I won't have to resort to being 'honest.']
*Varro made no reply to that, and there was the sound of the door closing, and then silence. Uxor didn't know what to do...or say for that matter. This woman was blackmailing him? But with something he hadn't bothered to tell her. It unsettled her to think that he was keeping something from her. She'd always tried to be honest with him - even about things she rightly didn't understand.
What was the secret?
Why was she afraid of Mekari?
How was she going to get out of here?

That question stopped her. She was in Varro's house eavesdropping - invisible no less - and now that the situation was over, how [I][B]was she to remove herself without getting noticed?*

[Robi3.0]

Lord Fustamore rode very comfortably in the back of his personal carriage. The sun was still high in the sky, but starting to decline. Rumors had been going around that an assassination attempt was going to be made on a Coinlord sometime soon. Fustamore new he was not the most popular Coinlord among his peers right now so upon the advice of his most trusted councilor he had begun traveling with an entourage of guards one of which was a caster of some kind. The group of four guards where more of a hassle than a help in Fustamore’s opinion. He considered himself a man of the people. “Being surrounded by armed guards is the best way to isolate you from the people.” He thought to himself as he traveled to his next appointment; it was not an appointment really more of an scheduled outing tonight was the opening night of the play The Jester’s Coming to Town a play celebrating the newly fabricated holiday; He had pulled some strings and got himself tickets for this showing months in advance. Fustamore was a huge fan of the theater. Fustamore surveyed the five faces that accompanied him this evening; all where the grim faces of emotionless masks. “Typical mercenaries.” he thought “All work and no fun.” It was than that his eyes wondered to the outside world. This part of town was not where he was supposed to be going. Fustamore stuck his head out the window waved his arm in a frantic attempt to get the drivers attention. “What in the name of gods is going on here?” He yelled over the roar of carriage wheels on cobble stone. “Sorry sir I have become lost and was trying to turn around to find my bearings.” The carriage slowed to a stop at a dead end of the street.

A cloaked figure then stumbled seemingly drunkenly out of the shadows towards the carriage holding a tin begging cup. Fustamore instinctively went for his coin purse to play the beggar off, but the mercenaries accompanying him went for there weapons. The caster stood pulled small blackened wand from his robes and waited patiently in front for the carriage door.

From atop the build at the end of the street, Grimlore saw Kirshank stumble out of the darkness. Grimlore only hoped that years of being a drunk had taught Kirshank how to play a convincing drunk, and hoped that Kirs was not actually drunk. As Kirshank approached the carriage Grim noticed something, maybe it was the look on the drivers face or the way the carriage sat real low to the ground. Grimlore really didn’t know but the feeling in his gut told him something was wrong; his gut is rarely ever mistaken. Grimlore quickly waved the hold signal to the building to his left.

Belbe saw Grim’s signal and motioned for the Dwarf on the building directly a crossed from her to hold then she signaled Kirshank who turned nodded his head in acknowledgment.

The impulsive dwarf on the other hand was unfamiliar with the tactics of the group and took Belbe’s signal to mean go. He jumped off his building hit the street in a roll and came up running; his axe rose high gleaming in the waning light. Baedor lowered his head and charged intent on bashing the carriage door down. Baedor’s eyes bulged in surprise when his charge ended five feet early as the door flew off its hindges fallowed by the roar of an incoming fireball. Baedor motionless body was thrown still smoking up against an alley wall.

Kirshank in one fluid movement, seeing the dwarf go down, ripped off his disguise and pulled his sword and shield from his back. At that moment Grimlore was glad Kirshank wasn’t drunk. Kirshank rushed the distracted mercenary party and managed to grad the Coinlord by the throat as he exited the carriage after his hired guards. Kirshank managed to get his sword to the Coinlord’s neck before the Mercenaries could react.

Belbe shook her head as she watched all this unfold. She silently cursed herself for bringing the noobish dwarf along. She cracked her knuckles and slid the sword from her back as she stalked towards the very edge of her roof.

[Captian_Watcher]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
Sorgo Tran and the Library of the Heavens



((key: BCS=Before clan scorpion ACS=After clan scorpion.))



Sorgo walked through the gates of the white, silver, and blue city. He walked around looking at all the people in white robes, and blue auras. He did not know where to go, or what to do now, until he saw the library. Seeing his favorite place in this city made him happy. Sorgo ran into the library with excitement as he entered and saw rows of shelves of books and scrolls everywhere.
“Hello Sorgo.” Said a voice. Sorgo jumped up in surprise.

“How do you know me?” Sorgo asked as he turned to the figure.

“I don’t know you, but I heard of you.” said the dark figure with a smile. He was unlike the rest of the people in this city. He had pure black skin, black eyes, black robes, and a black aura. “I am Surren Darkheart, librarian of the heavens. Welcome to the greatest library in…ever.”

“Sir Darkheart,” said Sorgo and gave a polite bow, “So is this city the place where people go when they die and…you know, not go to Hell?”

Surren laughed, “Yes great knight, this is where you guys go when you die and don’t go to Hell. I am not dead; this is a job for the immortals. Not really a time to get into that, you are free to look around, call me when you need my help.” Surren gave another smile and disappeared into the shelves of wonderful books and scrolls.

“Thank you.” Sorgo said, and drifted to a shelf. Skimming the tittles he saw something that surprised him. He saw a scroll titled "Sho Drizzin: Timeline till 125ACS".

Sorgo opened the scroll, and read it with curiosity.



82BCS-Sho’s age is 0: Sho Drizzin is born. Son of an elf Lisna Thuranni and a drow Gnaues Drizzin. Sho is first gray elf that has been recorded.

78BCS-Sho’s age is 4: Axalise, a new born elf, was found near a path outside the hidden Drizzin clan, with her parents dead. Lisna and Gnaues adopt her.

77BCS-Sho’s age is 5: House of Thuranni gives Sho his own Thuranni-blood curved dagger.

2BCS-Sho’s age is 80: Brown-skinned Drows attack Drizzin tribe, killing many, Drizzin clan is left vulnerable.

1BCS- Sho’s age is 81: Gnaues’ cousin, Aemilius Scorpio, plans a revolt so he can take control of the Drizzin clan.

1ACS- Sho’s age is 82: Revolt happens. Lisna and Gnaues are killed. Aemilius Scorpio’s clan take-over tribe. Clan Drizzin becomes clan Scorpion, all were required to get tattoo of a scorpion. Aemilius adopts Sho, and makes him his own son and heir. Axalise is sent to a magi academy.

9ACS- Sho’s age is 90: Sho goes to an assassin academy.

17ACS- Sho’s age is 98: Sho finishes the academy. Clan scorpion grows into a small kingdom because 2 other clans join Clan scorpion. Sho’s first sign of a dragon mark appears as a small dot.

21ACS- Sho’s age is 102: Clan scorpion grows so large, that most of the city is now above ground. It is the largest Drow civilization in Khorvaire. Axalise finishes magi academy, and goes to a university in Passage, Aundair. Sho becomes head assassin in the clan.

22ACS- Sho’s age is 103: Council of chieftains and tribal priests, decide to change the civilization into an Empire, and elect Aemilius Scorpio to be emperor. Sho becomes heir to the empire’s throne.

24ACS- Sho’s age is 105: Sho finds out that Aemilius killed his parents, from an old scribe that witnessed it many years ago. Sho stabbed Aemilius and cripples him, his own foster father, and ran away from the hidden empire of the Shadowcrags Mt., having to escape a hundred guards. He flees to Flamekeep.

25ACS- Sho’s age is 106: Sho joins the Thieves Guild & is a solo assassin. Axalise returns home.

32ACS- Sho’s age is 113: Sho joins the Assassin’s Guild.

33-34ACS- Sho’s age is 114-115: Sho searches for the Thuranni household, but has no luck. He rises in rank in the Assassin’s Guild.

40ACS- Sho’s age is 121: Sho joins a legion in Thrane. There he meets 18yr old Jack Black.

46ACS- Sho’s age is 127: Sho becomes Captain, & Jack becomes 1st Spear of the legion, because almost all the officers died in battle against the Ogres, but the legion won because of Sho & Jack.

50ACS- Sho’s age is 131: Sho & Jack leave the legion and head back to Flamekeep. They meet 24yr old Arcane Archer Maria Keep, and Sho falls in love with her. The trio starts up a mercenary business in Flamekeep.

55ACS- Sho’s age is 136: The trio met the lavender devils, and got their eyes switched with theirs. From that point on, they were the Lavenders. After their adventure with the devils, they headed south to join Maria’s uncle’s pirate crew, because the Silverflame was after them.

57ACS- Sho’s age is 138: Sho, Jack, & Maria start their own pirate crew. The Lavenders were now the 3 captains of the Lavender crew. They raided towns, got riches, and sailed on a magical jade ship. Also Maria got pregnant towards the end of the year.

58ACS- Sho’s age is 139: They stop pirating for a little, and headed towards Stormreach for a vacation till the baby was born and such. But they never got to Stormreach, because they got attacked by a small tribe of Ocean Giants (5-6 giants). Maria got captured and lost her pregnancy. Sho made the giants’ leader use the magic he had to heal, and keep Maria alive, then used his rage with his eyes. He skinned the giants, and burned them underwater alive. He killed the whole tribe. Since that day, Sho and Maria never were the same. The loss of the child, and the frightening rage that Sho had, changed everything. Jack blamed himself for that day. For the rest of the year, they stayed on their secret island in silence and peace.

60ACS- Sho’s age is 141: The Lavenders replaced their crew that they lost to the giants, with new faces. Then they continued pirating.

78ACS- Sho’s age is 159: They discover the pond of youth. Maria and Jack use it to get their 22 yr old bodies back. Sho is depressed, and angered with life. The 3 break apart. Jack goes back to Thrane under a new name to the legions, Maria continued pirating, and Sho found a small, quiet port, and became a rich, drunk, elf, that everyone looked down upon.

80ACS- Sho’s age is 161: Axalise finds Sho, and talks to him. Sho pulls himself together and created a one-eyed mask to keep his disgraced face hidden. He searched for Jack and Maria.

82ACS- Sho’s age is 163: The Lavenders return and more gold and treasures are discovered.

83-105ACS- Sho’s age is 164-186: they traveled everywhere, traveled to more lands, and got rich, stayed rich, and had more gold than a copper dragon. Jack and Maria renewed themselves at the pond of youth again.

106ACS- Sho’s age is 187: Axalise meets Sho again, and tells him of the invasion planned by clan scorpion empire, on Aundair & Thrane. Eldeen Reaches refuses to get in clan scorpion’s empire’s way. Sho leaves his friends and returns to his home.

107ACS- Sho’s age is 188: Sho convinces his foster father to stop the invasion by agreeing to stay for 5 years at least.

108-113ACS- Sho’s age is 189-194: Sho pretends to be who he is not, a political leader. Aemilius still want Sho to be the heir to the throne, even after Sho crippled him. Sho refuses.

114ACS- Sho’s age is 195: Sho leaves for Stormreach, a place he never got to go to, nor did he want to. The only reason that made him want to go, was that that’s where his child would have been born, he wanted to see the city his child’s city.

115ACS- Sho’s age is 196: Sho got to Stormreach, and met a very dark person, Surren Darkheart. An evil, powerful assassin mage.

116ACS- Sho’s age is 197: Sho joined the League of Shadows, an assassin’s guild led by Surren.

117-118ACS- Sho’s age is 198-199: Sho quit the league, and hid from Surren for a year. Surren found him, but let him go, only because they both shared a similar past. Surren gave Sho a weak smile and a bow, and told Sho of Shaddowweaver, and where to find him.

119ACS- Sho’s age is 200: Sho found the elf named Shaddowweaver, and joined the Fellowship of the Golden Night. He made friends with Shaddowweaver, Witchfinder, Hope, Jnr, and the other guild mates.

120ACS- Sho’s age is 201: Sho took off his mask for the first time in many years. He also used the magic in his eye, and he didn’t use them since he made the mask. This he also got cursed by a Brown-skinned Drow priestess. What he didn’t know is that she got him possessed by a demon. Sho also met Sorgo, made friends with the knight, and got him to join the fellowship.

121ACS- Sho’s age is 202: Sho met up with the Lavenders one last time to say goodbye, and to retrieve his part of the treasure. But they ended up in Hell, for 3months. He, Jack, and Maria were captured by the lavender devils that their eyes switched with. Jack and Maria got tortured and killed in-front of Sho. This is when second rage with his eyes happened. He started killing all the demons and devils he saw, even started taking down small armies. The demon mages had to send Sho back to his plane before he got rid of all demons and devils in Hell.

122-124ACS- Sho’s age is 203-205: Sho left on a trip (unknown where) & left Sorgo in-charge for him.

125ACS- Sho’s age is 206: Sho returned better than he left. He came back looking his old self, except older. He had no trace of the demon in him left. Axalise came back with a secret message. As she was in Stormreach, she also joined the fellowship.



Timeline recorded by,

Surren Darkheart





Sorgo took a deep breath after finishing. He never expected Sho’s life so…full of chaos and death. Heir to the throne of an empire? Surren Darkheart the librarian is an assassin mage of great evil? Sho, the jolly gray elf drow, was actually miserable? He never expected this.

“Ahhh, I see you found your friends history scroll.” Said Surren appearing behind Sorgo. “I’m still writing the second part, I think elves live too long.” He added with a smiling sigh.

“I never thought someone so happy can have lived to…it says you are evil, and you wrote it—I—why, I’m confused.” Sorgo said with a frown.

“Alright, you have little time, but I’ll explain quickly,” said Surren, “Things are not as they seem. Sho acts happy to make people around him think he is happy, to make others happy. I used to represent evil, in a few hours you will represent good. I wrote this and am writing the rest of his life because it is my job, and Sho Drizzin Scorpio is a part of history that needs to be recorded, and I wanted to do it. After I met him, I saw his past and I saw him there and who he was. But this is also not the right time; the Council of the Silverflame Angles needs you in the high tower in 5 minutes to talk about your brother, and him and Hell declaring war on heaven. So go now great knight.”

“Thank you Surren, you are not so bad for an evil guy.” Said Sorgo and gave a bow as he left.
Surren walked to his office and sat down. Two people sat across from him, a female human, and a male human, both with blue auras. And like Sorgo, they still had armor on.
“See,” Said Surren, “You have nothing to worry about; Sho had good friends, and has them still.”

“That knight was too polite when he found out who you were.” Said Jack.

“Or maybe you were too mean.” Said Maria. Surren gave a smile.

“There are 2 different sets of good friends,” Said Surren, “One who politely asks questions before accusing anyone, and one who tries to slice off the head of the stranger. Either way it’s perfectly fine. Like I said nothing to worry about.”

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn III, Chapter 1 - "By Any Other Name"

*Silence - something she was all together a part of normally - dragged on endlessly as she sat crouched in the spare room unseen. Once Mekari had gone, she felt as if when she next stepped outside, it would be morning. Varro hadn't stirred for some time. She was afraid he was he was listening... could she really keep this still and quiet indefinately?

After a time, she heard him get up. Her heart jumped abit, thinking he was at last come to catch her red handed as it were. She heard his footsteps fall, then the sound of the open door. The outer door. She nearly collapsed with relief. She was very afraid that he would have stayed in for the eve... then she'd have to find some manner of slipping out his front door without him noticing. The place had no windows - other than the main bedroom. If he stayed, she couldn't slip out that way. It was only a small two bedroom quarters in the main city center. This meant using the front door.*

*He was gone now. She sat up hesitantly, thinking it a trap to lure her out. She found no such trap. She did allow some time before she tried to leave though. . . incase anyone tried to stop in. She reactivated the invisibility, and slipped out the door. She was going to have to find out more information before she just confronted him. Though... what would she say if she DID confront him? "I was snooping in your house while you weren't looking?" That wouldn't do. Her objective was to protect him, not to jeopardize their friendship - though she felt that was exactly what she was doing. She needed to find out more.*

-----------------------------------

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn III, Chapter 2 - "The Game of Cat, Mouse, and Spider"

*The drinking contest had lingered well into the evening. Uxor knew it was the only certain way to ensure that Varro was docile enough not to note her following him tonight.*

"Uxor? Lost your hearing now as well?"

*She came to, realizing that she'd lost focus and her thoughts had roamed elsewhere from their game. She gnarled her nose at him with a playful smile*

"You're a bit distracted tonight. Or is it that I'm finally besting you at this game? The mighty Uxor, vanquished by a mere musician?! What will the other warriors say when they hear of this. . ."
*and he went on in this fashion while pushing another stein of ale at her. She narrowed her eyes at him, still smiling, drinking the thing down fiercely. She knew she could outlast him four times over, but it never stopped him from trying. Eventually he would surrender and leave, or drink himself to unconsciousness, where at, she would drag him to his home.
Tonight, either result was acceptable*

"What's on your mind?" *he asked, chalking another hash mark on the paper they were using to keep track of their drinking rounds.*

*She was glad to be mute in that moment. If she had to speak, he would undoubtedly hear the hesitation in her voice. She wrote on the scrap of paper the word "Dragon"*

"What about it?" *he asked as he started to polish another glass down, giving her ample time to write a reply. She turned the paper roudn to him as he finished*

"The sightings. I know the training missions have increased. There's more talk now that we'll be the next comissioned to fight. . . I heard the new healer spotted a large red one flying over the gate of the harbor and market. And I know the team is being assembled"
*She laced the question about 'the new healer' in to gage his reaction*

"Of course. I've been fielding inquiries myself for the Lady Hope's 'team'. Your warforged friend is counted among the willing I hear. That should make you pleased. In fact, he was here just the other night for a game of twenty questions with me since he apparently stumped Ruetger"

*She tried to act curious. She already knew this. Was he testing to see if she was aware? Had he completely dodged the comment about Mekari on purpose? This conversation was turning quickly out of her control - she had to reign it back in. It was already heading to a topic she didn't want to explain - the matter of why Deriaz had been there asking questions of him. She was trapped though now. If she changed the subject, he would suspect. If she continued, she might slip up and say too much. So she nodded to him instead, implying he should go on*

"Seems our fine metal friend has gone and worked the political ladder until he arrived somewhere suitable. 'ambassador to the fellowship on behalf of Blue Line'... good for him" *he raised a glass in toast, which he handed to her to finish. She wrote, before following through the remainder of the toast* "Yes I know. I was in the guild hall when he delivered the message. And you're right, I am happy - for that and his willingness to help with the dragon. That is what is troubling me actually. I think they want me to fight the dragon with them. I don't now if I can bring myself to face that."

*He angled his head and lifted a brow in response to that note*
"Have they asked you to?"

*she shook her head, but then wrote* "Not in so many words. . . "
She caught herself before she started writing about Ruetger and Deriaz brainstorming on how to overcome her fear. While it was the truth of the matter... she was worried over this topic ... the last thing she needed was implying that she, Deriaz, and Ruetger had been conversing together. Then he would know.
He would know those two came to him at her request - or he would assume as much even if it weren't so. That would be all it took for him to be on his guard from that point on.
She had started to write the letter "R" on the paper, and managed to stop in time to make it seem that she started a statement beginning "I" and had to reflect on what to write. *
"I just don't want to disappoint them" *and she drown her expression, glance, and the suppressed fidgiting in the next round of ale*

*He leaned back from the table a bit, holding the next drink in his lap* "Uxor, while I'm sure they have a lot of faith and belief in you, they don't seem the type of guild to hold it against you if you stand this one out because of your phobea. If you think it will compromise the mission, they'll understand"
*She was releaved only in part that she'd successfully navigated their conversation to safer waters. Instead, they were talking about another of her worries* "Even so. I'm considering doing it. I'm just, like you said, afraid I would jeopardize the journey."

*He finished his drink* "You don't have to prove anything to anyone Uxor. What's more, if you're doing it for pride or to save face, I won't let you. You spend a good deal of time telling me what I shouldn't get myself into, or how I should take care of myself. So once again, it is my turn to return the favor"

*she sighed, writing* "You are a good friend. I'm glad to know you."

*he waved her off* "Not good enough to keep up with the likes of you I am afraid" *he set the glass down. She frowned without realizing she'd done so, immediately following with writing "giving up so early?" ... he was relaxed, but perhaps not enough*

"Maybe I'm just trying to take better care of myself these days? Ever think of that?" *Now he was just refusing to conceed defeat. That was a good sign, she thought. So she shrugged at him as if to say 'fine have it your way' and stood up to shake hands with him.*

*The three attempts at casting his feather falling spell were proof enough to her that he was as far gone as she needed him to be now. When he finally successfully got the thing off, succeeding in catching her in the edge of it, he nodded to her and stepped off the edge of their platform where the upper tables were. Drifting down, he called after her*
"Just take it one step at a time. One day, without so much as a care, you'll bathe in lava, I'm certain." *he grinned up at her as he staggered his way out of the Phoenix*

*Once he was out of sight, she stepped off the edge herself, hovering down to the ground rubbing her wrists. She had purchased enough potions to get her by, but there was something to be said for the security of having the bracers and goggles handy. She felt guilty to use them in this way, so perhaps it was for the better that she now resorted to potions for the moment. She just didn't feel right about using the gifts from his late wife to spy on him with, even if it was to keep him safe.*

*She went out on the streets, and clambered to a good vantage point, looking for signs of him as she went. Tonight, she tracked her friend.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn III, Chapter 2 - "The Game of Cat, Mouse, and Spider"

*Uxor went down to her knees practically at the sight of Mekari. She had managed to track Varro here, to the warehouse district, and there he stood face to face with the strange drow healer. Most of Varro's journey tonight after leaving the Phoenix Tavern was in a line for his home as she followed him. Then abruptly, he had detoured from that route, to arrive here.

Up until this moment, she'd spent the whole of the night doubting herself. Here she was, crawling along rooftops like a burglar, tailing her coworker and good friend as if he were the Black Abbott himself. All her self loathing and guilt were driven away by the terror that welled up in her when she looked at Mekari below. Her fear of the woman was only compounded now at seeing Varro standing there talking with the drow. He had gone straight to Mekari, here in the alleyway.
Uxor fought for control. She rooted through her selection of potions to produce one that would suppress her panic. It was none too soon that she took it, for as she regained her composure, she heard one thing. . . but didn't hear another - Something was steadily coming closer, up the side of the building, and Varro and Mekari had gone silent. Uxor sucked down a few more choice potions - invisibility and jump. She then scampered away from the ledge of the roof, and ducked down between the overlap of the roof she stood on and the next building's overhang. She was glad for the amount of care she'd taken being prepared; now she could only hope to go unseen. What she saw then shook her. If it weren't for the potion, she might have fled outright.

A shoed foot, followed by a clothing clad leg, and ultimately the rest of the form, emerged from beyond the ledge of the roof, righting themselves like the felling of a tree in reverse. There stood Mekari, as if she'd done something no more effortful than walk down a sidewalk. Only in this case, it was up a side of the building. Mekari was watching, and listening. Uxor held her breath until she thought she might pass out. Then she heard the sounds of something thumping and scraping its way up the side of the building. Varro's head and arms appeared next, as he clambered up next to Mekari, peering out in the darkness as well. Uxor breathed again hesitantly, trying to listen to their conversation. They were speaking Quori again*
Varro: [You know, I'm not as young as you think]
Mekari: [Quiet]
*Uxor slowly sucked in more air, a sound that echoed in her own head, but she hoped was too subtle to be heard. Varro walked onto the building a bit further.*
Varro: [Here, I'll make short work of this] *He started to play a familiar melody. As the notes came to Uxor's ears, she tried to jolt back from it. She knew the song well, but she was unaccustomed to being at the receiving end. She found she had already succumb to the power of it, as she couldn't move. She sat in the shadow of her hiding place like an ornamental statue. Varro walked back and forth along the roof with the tune, and he was nearly in front of her, but he passed by, coming back to Mekari*
Varro: [See? No easy prey to be had]
Mekari: [I appreciate the demonstration, but it would do you well to pay closer attention. Especially at times of night.]
Varro: [Not all of us are so paranoid as you]
Mekari: [You should be. Ambassadors are popular targets for kidnappings and ransoms.]
Varro: [Also very public figures. . . so if a house has any tricks in mind, it would be within their interest not to do something that could draw undue attention to their doorstep]
Mekari: [Even so, do not think you are an exception]
Varro: [is our lecture finished? I have a pounding head to nurse, if it's all the same to you] *Mekari leveled her look to him*
Mekari: [Just watching out for your interests. Is that so wrong?]

*Uxor struggled to focus on their conversation, as she sat helplessly entranced by the lingering melody of Varro's song. Things were blurring together. Through the haze, she saw Varro unsheathe a gleaming sword - the one he used to make his magic more potent. He was holding it to Mekari's throat. Mekari flinched back from it*
Varro: [If I kill you now, it would remedy your 'concerns,' no?]
Mekari: [When did someone like you get the aura to wield a thing like that?]
Varro: [Let's just say I've learned to get around the properties of it enough to use to my benefit. My interests stopped being your concern long ago.]
Mekari: You're drunk. *she said in common. Despite the insult, it was apparent by her stance that Mekari was afraid*
Varro: [I would kill you now, but it's probably your intention. Perhaps to deny you of it will wound you more greatly?]

*Uxor was confused, and in pain now - physical pain. Something was burning inside her, searing from within.*

Mekari: [it is your wish to see me suffer?]
Varro: [Always. In fact, I've a mind to just turn this weapon in you and watch.] *he hissed the words at Mekari, pressing the blade closer still.*

*A word fluttered to Uxor's immediate thoughts. "Air." She realized between trying to hide with deathly silence, trying to focus on their conversation, and being caught in Varro's song, she hadn't noticed that she'd still been holding her breath. She was desperate for air, and she tuned out all things to drive her will on making her lungs respond. "Breathe. You have to breathe." Her vision was clouding. She could see the two shapes of Mekari and Varro, and dimly she was aware that they were talking still, but she had no energy to make sense of their words. She was slipping away. "Breathe!"*

*Uxor felt something hard strike her across the face suddenly, and she had a distant awareness that it was the ground. "Breathe."*

*Glowing white light met her vision. She furrowed her brows at it, raising an arm to shield her eyes. "Air" - the word snapped consumingly into all parts of her awareness. She felt her mouth open, and torrents of air came rushing in. The satisfaction of it was replaced by a realization that she had already been breathing. Finding her bearings, she realized she was staring at the brilliant blue of the sky, and she was lying on her back.

She sat up, looking around. She was still on top of the building, but it was mid-day practically. Had she been up there all night and morning? Varro and Mekari were gone. Looking herself over, she determined all her belongings and wellness were in tact. Rather than getting up, she sat quietly thinking for a few moments.

She was utterly confused. Where once she feared for Varro, now she didn't know what to think. Last night, he had been the aggressor towards Mekari. What had Mekari meant by 'someone with an aura like you,' and what did it have to do with Varro's sword? Was there something wrong with her friend. . . was he not really the man he made himself out to be? She suspected that Varro kept a great deal of himself private from her, but now she was beginning to fear that there was something terrible that was secret still. After all, the first time she overheard Mekari talking with him, she had implied that there was something Varro didn't want Uxor to know.

She didn't want to believe it.
She needed to confide in someone.
She needed to roll the thoughts around to puzzle out the truth of them.
She had to talk to Deriaz.

Deriaz. With alarm, she realized that he'd gone out last night for information of his own at her request. He would no doubt be worried that she hadn't come back last night. Not to mention, that no one would have seen her this day. She situated herself, took one more draft of the invisibility potion, and climbed down from the buildings, trying to ensure that no one saw her doing it. She then sped towards the guildhall, but stopped. If Deriaz had already gone there, and subsequently he had not found Uxor, then Deriaz would most likely be looking around the city for her. So she made for to the mailbox to send a message to him to meet her. There was much to talk over.*

[Robi3.0]

Kirshank stood with his back against the carriage surrounded on the other three sides by armed men, and from the look of the toasted dwarf, a very powerful mage. Kirshank slowly eyed each individual mercenary stopping at the robed figure holding the blackened wand. “No one move, and if you so much as wiggle your nose holes mage I will kill your boss right now where he stands.” Kirshank punctuated his point by licking the beads of sweat off the side of the nervous Coinlord’s face. This only made the Coinlord shake more, but he did manage to remain quite. The Mage slowly but very defiantly began to cross his arms, until he measured a feint movement out of the corner of his eye.

Grimlore had rose to his full height and loaded an arrow into his bow as he did so. “What makes you think I wont put this arrow into your eye and out the back of your head before you can mutter the first syllable of alakazam, or what ever you silly book learned freaks say to chare dwarves.” The startled mage froze in place unwilling to breath. A big toothy grin split Grimlore’s face. “Now how about you four walk away and let us finish our work here with your boss and we won’t kill you, or you can stay and we can kill you. Pick your poison.” The mage by this point had regained his composure he glared at Grimlore and said, “We out number you two to one I choose we stay and kill you.”

Belbe floated slowly and very quietly to street level from the roof top above; she creped to the corner of the carriage and quickly peaked around. What she saw was the control Grimlore had over the situation starting to dissolve into chaos as the mercenaries apparently had chosen to fight instead of live. Belbe stepped around the corner as the mercenaries began to advance towards Kirshank while the mage began an incantation. Belbe quickly cast a spell of her own and flames shot out of the fingers of her left hand stopping the armed mercenary’s progress and setting the mages robes ablaze. He stopped his spell cast and began to franticly pat out the flames. Belbe first spell was directly fallowed by a second as purple darts of energy flashed out of the tips of her right hand. They flew passed kirshank’s nose and smashed one after the other into the face of the Coinlord blasting a hole straight through and out the back of his head. Kirshank smiled a little as gore splattered him in the face. Belbe yelled, “Target the caster first!” as she readied her sword. Kirshank heard the order and picked up the Coinlord’s lifeless body and hurtled it at the mage just as he finished patting out the flames. The mage saw the incoming morbid missile and manage to duck out of its way. Two of his comrades who had come to his aid where not so lucky, they were knocked to the ground when they got stuck by the cadaver in their chests.

Grimlore saw Belbe’s quick thinking unfold and let a volley fly from his bow as the mage dodged Kirshank’s rather amusing impromptu projectile weapon. The arrow struck the mage in the shoulder and his arm fell limply to his side. Grimlore shouted, as he jumped from the roof. “So bookworm can you cast one handed if you can I would love to see it.” Grimlore landed and ran towards the injured mage.

Kirshank fallowed his corpsly assault with a quick survey of the field seeing that Grimlore had the caster under control he furiously charged towards Belbe who was having trouble with the only armed guard left standing he had backed her into a corner of the alley.

Belbe worked her sword and shield into a web of steel. Her opponent was most likely better trained in fighting than she was, but with her back firmly planted against the wall she was certain he would not break her defenses. Unfortunately she wouldn’t be able to make any offensive moves of her own. Her only hope was that one of her friends came to her aid before things took a turn for the worst. Almost on cue Kirshank run up from behind the fighting duo and kicked in a sideways swipe with booted foot at the back of the mercenary’s knee; He went down like a bag of stones landing flat on his back. Belbe eyed Kirshank thankfully as he delivered the grisly finishing blow. Kirshank smiled back and said, “Now this is fun!” Kirshank pulled his sword free and ran to engage the other two fighters who had just finished removing their former boss from on top of them.

Grimlore kicked the mage in the face as he approached the caster’s prone form. The conjurer very feebly made an attempt to block Grimlore’s attack with a small and cheaply made mace. The mage’s defenses broke and the heel of Grimlore’s boot contacted firmly with the casters forehead again. All was black fallowed by a sharp pain in his chest and the mage drew breath no more.

Kirshank’s charge ended when his initial attack was deflected by the shield of the closest mercenary. However Kirshank’s backhand swipe connected with the second fighter right between his neck and shoulder blade. The mercenary’s soul was removed from the material plane at that moment. Kirshank, Belbe and Grimlore quickly finished off to the last mercenary.

From under the carriage, driver watched in amazement as the group of assassins, minus one unlucky dwarf, skillfully dispatched of the Coinlord and his armed entourage. He was very glad he was not on the receiving end of this group’s wrath. He held his breath as the man with the Mohawk approached the carriage and began looting anything valuable from inside. The carriage driver’s world jerked violently as he was grabbed by his ankles flipped face up than dragged out from under the carriage. He opened his eyes to see the dark smiling face of the other human assassin.

Kirshank wiped the blood from his sword on the tunic of the prone man. Kirshank then pulled the man by his ankles as he walked and very casually asked “Did u think that we had forgotten about you.” Kirshank dropped the man and put a boot in the middle of the man’s chest. The driver tried to stutter out a rejection to this treatment but could only manage a “stop” and a “friend” as his lips began to turn blue. By this time the scene had attracted the attention of Grimlore who could help but chime in. “You would think that a traitor would realize when he has been double crossed” Those where the last words the driver heard in this life.

Belbe had left the boys to have their fun and went to see if Baedor was still alive. The dwarf was burned beyond recognition but he was still alive. Belbe wrapped him in what was left of Kirshank’s beggar disguise. “Will you two finish up here and come on; this has taken twice as long and Baedor is in need of a healer.”

Grimlore pulled a burlap bag out of his pack and handed it to Kirshank. “Get their heads and put them in this. We wouldn’t want any johnnylaw Cleric Rais’in these guys and getting them to squeal on us.” Kirshank smiled and hurriedly went to work.

The sun dipped below the horizon as the trio left the alley. Belbe sulking at the front fallowed by Grimlore with a half dead dwarf wheezing draped over his shoulders and taking the rear was Kirshank happily gazing off into space with a bag of heads slung over his shoulder

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn III, Chapter 3 "Research"

((Out of character note: The next chapters include combinations of roleplaying transcripts in addition to single-author writing))

*The preperations were as thorough as could be made. If they were to find out any information about Mekari, this was the way. Despite Deriaz's nearly deadly run in with the odd creature when he made his first attempt at obtaining the records on Mekari from the House Deneith, he was willing to try again with Uxor. There was something deeply comforting in that notion. . . knowing that Deriaz felt confident enough in her and the cause to have another go at it.
They had steadily progressed until they reached a window to the building where Deriaz had discovered the archive... there they might find answers. . . *

--------------Transcript-----------------
Uxor: *she motioned for Deriaz to wait as she peered in the window and looked for signs of guards. after a moment, he saw her turn round and motion for him to follow her. Uxor slipped into the window, clinging to the ledge looking up and down the passage way*
Deriaz: *He followed closely behind, glancing constantly onver his shoulder. It was obvious he was nervous to be here again.*
Uxor: *motioned for 'all clear' and clambered into the window, holding onto the lip of it before allowing herself to fall catlike onto the tile floor. She spread a cloth down for him to land on to try and muffle the sound of them coming in*
Deriaz: *He glanced around once more, and then followed through the window. He hit the cloth, though the metal in his legs still made a sound, though it was a lot less than what it would have been without. He froze for a moment, and then relaxed slightly.*
Uxor: *she also looked round for indication that they'd been heard. But there was no reaction. They coudl hear voices at both ends of the passage. She motioned for him to point the direction of the records room*
Deriaz: *His eyes, colorless now so he would be seen less easily, scanned the passage, getting his bearings straight. He pointed to the right, to a door tucked away at the end of it. He nodded, implying that that was the door he remembered. There was one guard on the right side of the door.*
Uxor: *they crept that way. this time there wre two guards...one on each side. And there was a patrol of three men walking down the hall in the opposite direction at the moment. But it was clear by the way they walked, slowly and solidly, that they too were on guard. *Uxor glanced to Der with a 'well...not as easy as we thought' look*
Deriaz: *He shook his head, regretting his actions the other night that now made this adventure harder than it needed to be. Deriaz glanced back at Uxor and nodded, allowing her to make the first move, assuming she would know he would copy her exactly to keep together.*
Uxor: *she swallowed and motions for him to step back a little and drink another invisibility potion*
Deriaz: *He took a large step back, and did as she told him, digging through his sack for the right potion. After a few seconds, he found it, and drank it in one large swallow.*
Uxor: *she did likewise, and pushed a potion into his hands. Haste he figured based on the color. She drank this as well, then took a few steps back, took out a heavy but small ax from her pack, and chucked it at the window behind them. She motioned for him to press back agains the wall in the crook of the corner*
*the glass shattered and went everywhere, and immediately htey heard shouts and footsteps coming that way. Uxor slid back with him into the shadow and made a motion for 'quiet' and 'still'*
Deriaz: *He froze in the shadows, staring at her out of the corner of his eyes, waiting for her to make the next move.*
*a pack of men ran past them towards the source of the disturbance, and as soon as they'd gone by, she grabbed hold of Der's hand firmly and tugged him quickly toward the door. The two guards had gone to investigate as she'd hoped, and she quickly tugged at the door until it jerked open. She was certain it had been locked...but that mechanism was broken now for certain. She ushered Der inside and held the door fast behind them, quietly, as if it hadn't been open in the first place*
Deriaz: *He glanced around the room, trying to see if there were any guards in the room now after his escape from the night before. He shrugged, not seeing any, but waiting until Uxor 'spoke'--or at least gave him the OK too.*
Uxor: *Uxor was listening outside the door, then motioned for Der to come hepl her hold the door*
Deriaz: *He slid over to the door, grabbing the handle in his hand. He squeezed his hand around it, and planted a foot on the wall to help brace it shut, making the impression of a lock door if anyone gave a tug. He glanced over at Uxor, making sure that's what she wanted Deriaz to do.*
Uxor: *she nodded and also helped to pull the door. They heard foosteps approach, and they felt someone try to turn the knob outside*
*then they heard someone say* No, still secure.... keep searching!
*Uxor waited a little longer, then breathed out, making a motion for 'quiet' still, moving back from the door very slowly*
Deriaz: *He watched her back up, remaining on the doorknob until she gave him a different instruction to follow.*
Uxor: *She waited a little bit longer, then motioned for him to come over to her. She wrote a small note that read* "We're going to need to be deathly quiet and fast at this. Eventually they might try to come in here and check deeper than just a locked doorknob"
Deriaz: *He nodded, and mumbled under his breath - Which was muffled more by the mask* Just tell me what you need me to do. Light, help you find the book, anything.
Uxor: *she nodded and pointed at the last..."find the book"
Deriaz: Got it. Lucain d'Deneith. Find him. *Deriaz slipped towards the shelves, scanning quickly for anything that would have a possible reference to him. He stopped at one book near the end of the shelf. He pulled it out quickly, sliding quickly back over towards her. He flipped it open, and his eyes came alive again, though dimmly, to help him see. *He stopped.* Unless you want to scan this book, and I'll look and see if there's a second one that may mention him?
Uxor: *she nodded, holding out her hands for the book*
Deriaz: *He slipped it into her hands, leaving it open on the page he stopped on. Deriaz rushed back to check the end of the first shelf once more, and then moved on to a second one.*
Uxor: *Uxor frowned after a moment holding the book out to him to show torn pages*
Deriaz: *He glanced down at the book, and froze.* I. . . Heh. . . I guess they. . . Um. . . Don't fix those as fast as. . . Um. . . As I would imagine. . . *His eyes remained on the book, as his mind raced through the events of the other night, torturing him by paying special attention to the creature that he encountered.*
Deriaz: *He slid another book off the shelves - a chart of noble lines.* This one looks promising. *Deriaz held it out to her, as if asking if she wanted to scan through it instead of the first one, seeing as the torn pages meant the first book wasn't that useful anymore.*
Uxor: *she skimmed down it and traced until she found the name Lucian...there was a page reference. She flipped deeper in the book, and as they paged through, they saw that there were portraits of each of the nobles*
Deriaz: *He watched her flip the pages, staring at the book so she could see a little better with the light coming from his eyes.*
Uxor: *Uxor looked it over. It indicated that he was a noble from the city of Sharn, still of the Deneith house*
Deriaz: *He scanned over the page quickly.* Sharn?. . . Where's that? *He shook his head.* It rings a bell, but I can't remember where I've heard it before.
Uxor: *Uxor wrote* ....a bit far from here. *Uxor stared at the portrait*
Deriaz: Guess that's why I don't know where it is. *Deriaz noticed her staring at the portrait.* Recognize him from somewhere?
Uxor: *she covered up the mustache with her fingers*
Deriaz: *He stared at the portrait for a few seconds more, before it finally hit him. His eyes went wide, and brightened a little.* . . . Maybe it's just me. . . . But that looks like Varro. . . Kind of. . . *He stared at it a bit more.* A little more then kind of. . .
Uxor: *nodded and stared at it* "do you think..that this IS Varro?"
Deriaz: I. . . Well. . . I mean. . . Maybe?. . . I-It does look a LOT like him. . . . But. . . But I. . . He. . . Varro doesn't exactly strike me as someone who. . . Who would be in a book about nobles. . . But. . . I. . . *He trailed off.*
Uxor: *she frowned* "we need to find out more about this 'lucian'...and Mekari while we are at it"
Deriaz: *He glanced up at her.* Want me to start looking for Mekari now? Or more on 'Lucian'?
Uxor: *she nodded to the word "mekari" and she wrote "lucian' and pointed at herself. Then she shook her head* *she gestured to reverse it* "YOU look for Lucian...i dont want you to trigger that creature if it knows that you are rooting around in here again"
Deriaz: *He laughed nervously.* Good thinking. He turned back to the second shelf, and began scanning again for any title that may have something to do with Lucian. He found a book of comissions....records on apparent works the house had comissioned within their own ranks. The first few pages he saw the word Lucian appear several times. He flipped through the pages then looked up, grinning behind his mask.* We've got a gold mine right here. Mentions Lucian more than once.
Uxor: *she came over with a book of her own. This one looked like a roster file, similar to the one he found with the torn pages...though this one looked more to be a record one kept about employees that they didn't want their employees to see*
Deriaz: Two books, and probably enough information to keep us busy for a while. . . How long until you think those guards are going to come back?
Uxor: *she shook her head indicating* "soon" *and set to copying as much information as her hands could write as quickly as she could. She wrote frantically, nodding for him to keep his fingers on pages that might be of importance*
Deriaz: *He nodded, slipping his fingers between the pages. He kept his eyes on the page so she could she better, and then with his left hand, began to skim the other book out of the corner of his eyes for pages of interest.*
Uxor: *copied as fast as she could. When she'd gotten her fill of that book, she went back to the archived one. There, they found sketches of employees.... and a sketch of Lucian appeared in it along side a profile of him. Deeper in the pages, she came across pages for names that he would recoginize as being from the group known as the Silver Stalkers*
Deriaz: *Noticing the names from the Silver Stalkers, he began to reskim a few of the pages, marking new pages if there was something to be found on the group. He glanced over at the door nervously once, and then went back to the book.*
Uxor: *Uxor first copied Lucian and Mekari's pages...then she set about the other names just in case. She knew the names she wanted first, the rest were bonus*
*there was a click behind them at the door*
Deriaz: *froze, and his nerves went crazy at the thought of another replay of the night before.*
Uxor: *drug him down to the ground with her, and they heard the door open. They were behind a shelf...and she tried to continue writing. She hoped beyond all hopes that they would look, pass by, and continue their search. Then she remembered the broken lock*
Deriaz: *He glanced over towards the door, but couldn't see all the way. His gaze returned to Uxor, as if pleading for her to have some kind of escape plan. In the back of his mind, his instincts began to kick in, and the cackling voice had appeared again, though incredibly faint.*
Uxor: *she frowned, knowing that she had transcribed all she could. She woudln't risk taking the pages directly from the books. Not after what happened to Der when he'd tried to take the pages last time. She shoved three potions at him and wrote "get ready"*
Deriaz: *He nodded, taking the bottles. He was slightly shaking, as if fighting something.*
Uxor: *she quirked an eyebrow at him as if to say "stay with me. Be calm" and she held a hand out in a stilling gesture*
*they heard a voice calling out,a nd footsteps moving slowly around the room. It was a male voice...it sounded like one of the guards they heard earlier* Surrender or die!
Deriaz: *He nodded again, and blinked. One eye had turned red, while the other was orange.*
Uxor: *the steps were coming closer, and Uxor sucked down the potions, nodding for him to do the same*
*each time the steps got closer, she shuffled around the bookcase trying to put it between she and der, and the incoming guards. They were across from one another now, but they were down below. The guards still hadn't seen them...yet. But she could hear by their movements that they knew exactly where they were area wise, despite being unable to see the two of them. They could hear a shift in the footfalls. They were spreading out now to try and box them in. Uxor frowned, and made a gesture of counting, then a gesture towards the door...she held up 3 fingers*
Deriaz: *He chugged them. Another blink, and both his eyes were orange again.*
Uxor: *then she shifted like a preditor ready to spring...holding up her hand towards him ..she held up one finger*
*then a second*
Deriaz: *He tensed up, waiting on the count.*
Uxor: *the third finger came up, and she motioned for him to go ahead of her. She wasn't going to leave him. Meanwhile, she heaved her weight against the bookshelf to tip it over*
Deriaz: *He sprang forward, rushing out of the room faster than what he could normally move. He heard the bookshelf fall behind him but he shrugged it off. He skidded to a halt, looking left and right, trying to find the quickest way out of the building. The passage he saw more figures running to and fro searching everywhere. Alarm was sounded. The window was open from where Uxor had busted out the glass...and he realized one of the potions she'd given him was 'jump'. The alarm threw him off, and he began to shake again. He squeezed one of his eyes shut, as if he had taken a blow to the head. He ran to the window but stopped, turning around to see if Uxor was coming. He heard the sound of combat behind him. He glanced up once more at the window, and cursed. He ran back to the door, sliding to a stop in front of it.*
*A figure came barrelling out of the door into him. Uxor...but unfortunately he could tell she was visible. It took a moment, because in that moment of her dashing out and running smack into him, all he saw was a drow woman charging madly out of the door towards him*
Deriaz: *He took a step back as Uxor barreled into him. He almost attacked back by reflex, but stopped realizing it was her. He pushed her out of the way of the door, slamming himself into a guard behind her. He walked back out of the room, pulling the door off the hinges. He propped it up, and pushed it into the room with his foot. It landed on the guard he had just pushed to the ground. He laughed, but the laugh was a lot lower than what Uxor was used to hearing. He glanced over at her, and his eyes were both blood red.* You alright?
Uxor: *She shook her head yes and shoved another potion at him....but he could see she was bleeding from her mouth and side. He could here the guards on the other side trying to batter down the door...and the sounds of more guards coming down the passage from both directions*
Deriaz: *He took the potion,staring at it, and shrugged.* Clean yourself up. *His voice was also a lot lower than normal. He turned to face the sound of the incoming guards. The Warforged drew his sword and shield, and slid his feet, switching to an aggresive stance.* Tell me once your ready to go. Until then, I want to see just what this body is capable of. *She heard another low laugh.*
Uxor: *Uxor stood up and took him by the shoulder and pulled at him. She tugged urgently and shook her head 'no' and gestured for the window. She pushed the invisibility potion at him again. He'd come visible when he body checked the guard back into the room*
Deriaz: *He frowned, and looked at her.* You're really persistant in person, aren't you? I don't know how he puts up with you. . . . Fine. *He took the bottle, chugged the contents, and threw it to the ground.* You want to leave, then. . . . Fine. Go ahead. Lead the way. I'll be right behind you.
Deriaz: *she was at a loss for what to do. This didn't sound at all like the Deriaz she knew. And what's more, it was talking as if it WERENT the Deriaz she knew...at all. She didn't know what to do..and subtly she feared that Deraiz had used his memory gem. She narrowed her eyes at him, coming round to try and usher him to go ahead of her toward the window. She tapped her head with a hand as if to imply 'im no sucker'*
Deriaz: *He laughed again.* You're brighter than you look, too. . . . Fine. . . . *He muttered under his breath.* I'd have half the mind to ignore you if. . . *His voice trailed off, and he walked over to the window. He jumped up through it, and a loud thud was heard as he hit the ground outside.*
Uxor: *Uxor sucked down another potion, swallowing it blood and all. There was no time to fuss over her wounds. They had to get out of there. And doubly so with Deriaz acting...well...not very much like Deriaz at all. She sprung up grabbing the lip of the window, heaving herself up to peer out before making a leap for the edge of the roof and tried to look around for Deriaz*
Deriaz: *He was standing on the roof, his red eyes illuminating in the dark. What was once blue metal was now a deep black, and he grinned at her.* You move slow, as well.
Uxor: *Uxor hoisted herself up by her arms, landing in a crouch, staring up at Deriaz in his new form. She motioned for them to continue out of the House grounds along the roof tops....she wrote a note that said "rusty nail window"*
Deriaz: *He stared at the note.* Rusty. . .? Oh. Right. That run down Inn. *He shrugged.* I didn't pay attention on the way here. Stealth bores me. . . . *He gave a fake, quick bow.* Lead the way.
Uxor: *she sprang up not too far ahead of him at any point. She wasn't going to let him get out of her site, nor out of aid if she could help it. The whole House was up in arms, and she was glad for having them both take the potions. They surely would be pelted with arrows otherwise. She cnotinued in this way until they were outside of the walls of the House Deneith. At this point, however, she started partly to look round. She didn't wnat that creature slipping up on them enroute to safety*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn IV "Changes of Cloths" Chapter 1

-----------TRANSCRIPT-------------------

*They made thier way across the roof tops, the pace not quite so urgent as before. She continued until they arrived on the roof of the Rusty Nail, and then she motioned for him to climb into the window below the lip of the roof*
Deriaz: *He climbed in, and looked at his hands once he was completely inside. The metal had begun to return to a blue color.* Well, well, well. Looks like the runt has decided he wants control again. . .
Uxor: *came in the window and took hold of his...whoever he was at that moment...hand. Firmly. She was far more strong than she seemed, and she held onto his wrist as if she expected answers*
Deriaz: *He grinned.* Ask him yourself. *His eyes went colorless for a moment, and then the orange she had come to known return. He looked around the room, and then at Uxor.* . . . I. . . Um. . . I. . . Sorry you had to see that. . . .
Uxor: *she jerked his wrist forward until her nose was within mere inches of his face, and she hissed a 'tssssst!' at him, flailing her other arm up to imply he needed to explain himself....now*
Deriaz: *He glanced back and forth between her eyes, and then sighed.* Alright. . . Look. . . I. . . Don't rightfully know what happened. That's not the first time that's happened. I. . . When too much stuff is going on, I get nervous. . . You know that. . . Well. . . That voice starts kicking in if I'm overloaded with too much. The more there is, the harder it is to resist. If it beats me, or I submit to it. . . Well. . . That's what happens. . . . I can't explain it anymore than that. *He kept his eyes on her during his explanation, and even after.* Hate me if you want. I wouldn't doubt you for it.
Uxor: *her icy blue eyes radiated with searching intensity as he offered his explaination. Perhaps if the Avatar of Justice and Judgement had fallen to the earth and were there questioning him staring him in the face, that was the eyes he would see looking back. The touch of her was cold. Her skin was cool, her eyes freezing to the spirit and gaze... one might waiver under that look. But she subsided it after a moment. Stepping back and flopping down on the bed. She clasped her side. The excitement had died down, and the wounds were catching up to her now. She took out some things from her pack, including a paper on which she wrote sloppily* "why didnt you tell me about this before??"
Deriaz: *He remained standing, staring off into space where she had been standing, though he could still read the paper with his peripheral vision.* Because. . . I didn't want anyone to know. . . *His voice trailed off.*
Uxor: *she laid back on the bed staring at the ceiling, starting to try and wipe the soot off her face...reaching around and sipping from another potion bottle. After a moment she rolled onto her side looking to him* "I was afraid I lost you to...whoever that was."
Deriaz: *He continued to stare at where she had once been standing.* That won't happen. As long as I can keep conscious, and get back to a calm level, my will overrides his. He doesn't have a choice. . . *He shook his head, and pulled out his sword, cleaning off the dye and fabric disguise.* Believe me. . . If I had the choice not to let him take control. . . . I'd take that choice in a heartbeat. But there's no control over it, sometimes.
Uxor: *she nursed the healing potion, writing* "what IS he?"
Deriaz: *He remained quiet for a moment, finishing the sword, and moving on to the shield. He eventually sighed.* I can't answer that without lying to you. I don't even know what he is. He's got a love for chaos, though, as you saw.
Uxor: *she nodded a bit* "I'm surprised he even relented at my request" *she sat up a little, seeming to be more on the mend now with the aid of the potions. She started to clean off her face of the black paste smeared all over her visible skin*
Deriaz: You're not the only one. I was sure he was going to go on a rampage in there. . . .
Uxor: "how often does this happen?"
Deriaz: That's the third time. The second was the first time you asked me to sneak into the records room. When I got caught, he almost cut down the guard that discovered me. The first time. . . . I don't even remember it all that well. It was in a tavern, I got into a brawl with some Dwarves, and it just snowballed.
Uxor: *she sighed a little, still working at cleaning off her face* "i'm going to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth. Even if you think I won't like it. . . can you do this?"
Deriaz: *He shook his head slightly.* Sure, anything.
Uxor: "does this have anything to do with your memory ... in the gem?"
Deriaz: *His eyes fell down to the pouch at his side, and he stared at it for a moment.* I. . . Don't know, really. It could be connected, but I haven't considered it. I just always thought it had my memory, and nothing more. . . *He went silent for a minute.* I connected the second voice to the graffiti. . .. . . Though. . . . You could be on to something. It might be what would get him out of me, or something. . .
Uxor: *she frowned* "i dont know that I'd go so far as to say that. I have the impression that while he isn't in control at the moment...he has an awareness even when he is not driving the charoit so to speak. So to speak of 'getting rid of him' might make him work harder to get rid of YOU"
Deriaz: *He flinched.* Good point. . . When he had control earlier, I still had a connection to my. . . His. . . Our eyes and ears. So I knew what was going on. . . It's probably exactly how you put it. Speaking of getting rid of him wouldn't be the best if he knows what's going on. . . *He shook his head in frustration.* But we can't just let him stay, can we? You saw what he's capable of. The door? What if he found a way to take control when I'm overloaded, and STAY in control? I'm sure that wouldn't prove to be a good situation at all either.
Uxor: *she sighed* "Perhaps that is what the graffiti is about then? Perhaps someone tried to force two states of being into one body? And this is the result?"
Deriaz: It's possible. . . *He took a seat on the floor near the wall, opposite the bed. He sighed, and stared off aimlessly again.*
Uxor: *Uxor looked at him and huffed lightly from her nose* "I didn't mean anything by that. You are who you are Deriaz. And...whoever else is in there. You're just going to have to learn to cohabitate for the time being. Who knows, maybe there is some magical means of giving him his own form? But if getting rid of him meant getting rid of you, I would not have it" *she smiled at him*
Deriaz: *He smiled back, though half-heartedly.* Thanks, I guess. . . And. . . Sorry again, about what happened at the records room. You shouldn't have been the one to see that.
Uxor: "I just really wish I would have known. I could have been more prepaired. Had he not been willing to heed and leave with me, things could have gone a lot worse. For both of us. Is there anything else I should know? If it makes you feel more comfortable, I will tell you something personal about me in exchange"
Deriaz: *He gave one quick laugh.* There's no need for you to share anything more than you already have. . . *He sighed.* I don't know if there's anything left to explain really. I don't know much else. . . His thoughts sure were odd to listen to though, while we were in there. . .
Uxor: "have you ever tried to talk to him...directly?"
Deriaz: I've tried a few times. . . It's only worked once. . . And I actually didn't expect him to answer me. . . *He went silent for a moment.* It was in record room that I tried again, though I guess you can't call it trying, really. More of a habit. He's never answered me before, so I usually just scream at him to help relax me a little more. You know, better to take it out on something that won't answer, rather than on someone I know or could hurt. . . It was after he took over. I was screaming at him that I didn't want him taking over. When you ran into him, you have no idea what was going through his mind. . . He yelled back at me to shut my mouth. That was all he said. . .
Uxor: "do you think he listened to me or to you on his choice to leave the place with me?"
Deriaz: *He shrugged.* I'd think it was a combination of the two. . . You, because of your "persistance", or so he said. I as well, because of my constant screaming at him.
Uxor: "well...then he can't be entirely chaotic. He's inclined to listen to outside input. Perhaps he is just someone with fewer inhibitions?"
Deriaz: I don't know. He could be. . . I don't know how inclined he is to listening to outside input though. . . *He shuddered for a second.* It's more luck than you'd imagine that he actually did listen to us. . . When you ran into him, the thought ran through him to run you through with my sword right then and there. . . *He shook his head.* It could have also been because he what the situation was that of what the situation was that he listened. Under any other circumstances, I don't know if he'd listen at all.
Uxor: *she frowned* "well, you are going to need to find some way to learn more about him or free him... because it doesn't sound like he's going to sit and be quiet whenever things get stressful for you"
Deriaz: *He stared off again for a second.* Do you think. . . That maybe. . . The gem could do that? It's tempting now to know if that's also the key to getting him out of me.
Uxor: *she frowned again* "perhaps. Perhaps it is something to temper the two of you. Perhaps it allows you to communicate with one another directly. Perhaps it is an on/off switch to permit him control....and perhaps, at worst, that gem would meld the two of you together" *she leveled a look at him* "and if THAT were the result, there would be neither you or him, but someone different potentially"
Deriaz: *He stared at the ground.* Well. . . I. . . . . *He punched the ground in frustration, and his voice trailed off.*
Uxor: "is there no way to learn more of the purpose of the gem before trying to use it?"
Deriaz: Unless you know of someone who knows how one of these things work, I don't think so. The Wizard that I got it from is long gone by now, I wager. He didn't have many belongings. Looked as if he moved around a lot.
Uxor: *she considered this for a little while* "Alright. You have helped me...above and beyond. I will help you. Let us puzzle over what we found in the records room. Then...we will see what we can do for using that gem with me here to watch over you." *she looked down at the paperwork and wrote* "speaking of men with multiple personalities"
Deriaz: *He stood up, and sat down on the bed, next to her.* Well. . . . What did you get? And don't say 'a lot', because I watched you write it all down. A lot faster than I've seen anyone write before. Anything big?
Uxor: *she pulled out the papers and sifted through them, making tick marks next to certain lines, and on a seperate page she wrote* "well...this Lucian person has had many projects. Most of them are in code names. I think he's some sort of house spy or at least a covert agent of some kind. *she flipped over to the page she jotted down about his profile* they seem to have an intimate interest with his vitals and injuries, as well as the money lended to him by the house. No house lends money to their hired help. Even being a noble, he would have his own personal lands and wealth to draw upon. But by this, they portioned money to him in steady...and lengthy..incriments. What's more...*she circled one line... "deceased"* "I don't even recall hearing word of the death of one of the Houses nobles. That usually is something you would expect to see some mention of...a state funeral or something. And you don't make light of someone's death unless you didn't want anyone to recall them as noteworthy"
Deriaz: Maybe he paid to have his death kept under covers? Maybe he had people after his wealth or land, and if they knew he would have died, they would have taken it for themselves.
Uxor: "perhaps. I don't like that picture. I mean....tell me I am crazy, but it looked like Varro. I know Varro is not originally from these parts. I gather from his drunken ramblings that "Varro" is not his real name. Do you think he is Lucian, and Mekari has been sent to keep an eye on him?" "that he is the one who stole the sword, and Mekari, as one of these 'silver stalker' people, is here to make certain he's not still under its influence?" *she skimmed Lucian's profile* "they have a list of his 'known training'" *and she ran her fingers down the list* "Disguise. Diplomatic training. Stealth. Manual combat. History, Geography, Mythology, Cultural Studies..."
Deriaz: Disguise. . . Well, if what you say is really what he did, that would be a big piece of evidence. He's an Ambassador too, isn't he? He works with you. . . . That fits the Diplomatic training. . . .He's a Bard, so I would assume he knows History, Geography, Mythology, and all that good stuff. . . . *He laughed once.* All that looks like a trait Varro has.
Uxor: *she nodded. Then she went further down the list of training under combat* "Hand to hand. Garrot. Blades. Poison Dart."
Deriaz: *He reread those four a few times.* . . . Not as. . . . Varro-ish. . . .
Uxor: *she nodded* "or not something he's ever shown us" *she paged over to the material she found on Mekari. It was likewise a record of funds and comissions, and there was a profile for her as well, as well as notes* "Field Surgeon. Specializes in non-magical healing." *was the first entry. There was a list of her skills that included "healing craft, diplomatic skills, interrogation - a skill that also appeared on Lucian's profile - and climbing. Several entries, which appeared at different times, appear beside the name. As if someone had been keeping a log file on her:
"Notable lack of skill in direct combat. Use of crossbow acceptable"
"Has a noteworthy memory - her ability to transcribe documents and maps is proving astounding"
"May prove a dangerous investment. Unexplained displays of magic"
*the last entry on Mekari read* "Hostility between subject and team may have proven fatal. Body never recovered after inter-team murder"
Deriaz: *He looked over all the info.* Looks like someone's really wanting to keep a record on her. Were they all this detailed in that book?
Uxor: *nodded a little, gesturing to the file on the Valenar elf, which also had a lengthy series of notes on it in regards to his personality, developments over the course of his employment, and so forth*
Deriaz: Inter-team murder? *He read over it again.* I thought it said she was missing in action, or something. . . .
Uxor: *a note on the Valenar elf read* "Suspect of murder of two of team. One death confirmed. One MIA" *Uxor also read it over, and looked over the notes of other team members. She found a page on the one called "Cuz" and looked to his 'deceased' notes*
"Dispatched by comrade. Ruled accidental death officially."
Deriaz: So. . . . Something's telling me this group wasn't the best of friends. . . What do you make of all this? I'm not exactly the best out of making heads or tails of records like these. . . .
Uxor: *shook her head* "I'm not sure. And I'm not certain about our Mekari now either. If she is the same one, and still under their employ, they've made no recent notes about her to indicate they've even found her. Not to mention the file obviously wasn't meant to be seen by her, so it's not as if they would omit information of her triumphant return to the world of the living."
Deriaz: Well, I don't know that this Mekari is the same as the one we know. . . . Didn't you say Varro said Mekari didn't look like a Drow? That she was a little pale for one, or something? And the Mekari in this is a Human. . .*Deriaz sighed.* Once again, one question answered, more questions appear.
Uxor: *she nodded* "we haven't ruled out the possibility that she is a shape changer" *she stopped* "alright. Let us try this approach. Let us presume that this IS the same Mekari, and that House D has no awareness that she is alive still. Perhaps she left because of the in party fighting? That would be a reason to cut and run and not make mention of your return perhaps it was contractual or an oath, and faking ones death is a way to not be forced to have to work with the same people again maybe?"
Deriaz: *He shrugged.* I can't think of any other reason why she would be alive, yet presumed dead in her file.
Uxor: "Alright. So we draw the conclusion that for some reason or other, she found it necessary to 'die' and resurface elsewhere. Now let us also assume that Varro is Lucian... also required to fake his death for political reasons."
Deriaz: "Why would she come here now to be around him? Obviously we see their connection in terms of why they know one another."
Uxor: "Presuming the two of them to be Mekari and Lucian"
Deriaz: *His eyes dimmed for a moment.* Perhaps they knew each other before this, and faking their deaths allowed them to meet for. . . . Whatever reason they had to, and be able to do it easily and without hassle.
Uxor: "I could accept that had I not been privy to their conversations. They talk to each other with, well, he with downright malice towards her, and she with an air of almost amusement"
Deriaz: Maybe the meeting or their planning went wrong, and Varro hates her for it. . . *He shook his head.* It would explain the hatred to her, but I don't know why, then, she'd have amusement with him.
Uxor: "the context of what they talk about makes it sound as if she's here to 'keep him in check'"
Deriaz: Keep him in check. . . *He went quiet for a moment.* Maybe Varro did something out of line, involving that sword, and Mekari is checking to make sure he hasn't gone too far with it? . . . *He sighed.* Like I said, I'm bad with reports and things. I'm just kind of stretching it now. . .
Uxor: "So...if she's not with the silver stalkers any longer, what other purpose would she have for that?"
Deriaz: The sword, I suppose? The pages I tore out of that book said that the Silver Stalkers were to find a sword that was stolen. Maybe, as you said, Varro was the one to take it, and she's making sure it isn't controlling him. That would give her incentive to do that.
uxor: "So maybe the artifact was never recovered? Or it was recovered, and they weren't able to seperate it from him?"
Deriaz: I think it said the item was returned. . . . Though the idea of seperating it from him still makes sense.
Uxor: "and lastly... there's that creature. I notice we got away free with this information" *she held up the pages* but yet when you snatched those other papers, it was on you as if it knew where to look. And now those pages are gone"
Deriaz: Well, it DID say "You are meddling in affairs which are not your concern, Warforged". Maybe it was somehow related to the Silver Stalkers, since that was what the majority of those pages were about. *He trailed of for a second.* You're not worried it's going to come after us again, are you? It attacked me in the street. I don't know if it would come after us now. . . Not after we've gotten to an Inn, where other people may see it.
Uxor: *she shook her head* "I'm not certain. I don't think it knows. Yet anyway... or else I think we would have run into it between there and here...plenty of opportunities for it to catch us 'alone' so to speak. But word is going to get out that there was a break in. Especially after our confrontation with the guards. At least there are no pages missing this time"
Deriaz: *He frowned.* That's right. . . . Confrontation. . . Do you think they got a good look at me? I mean, two encounters in two nights. . . And I didn't exactly change my outfit much. . . .
Uxor: "I don't think they got a good look at you...until the door incident. And even then, it would have been only in silouette and surprise. And I think the thing that would stand out in their mind is the red eyes...and well your armor lookd a little different as well." *she finished with cleaning her arms off, seemingly reminded anew of the notion that she too had been seen*
Deriaz: There's still the fact that they know it was a Warforged. And let's face it, there aren't many of us--at least from what I've seen--in Stormreach. . . *He shook his head.* I'm hoping you're right, though.
Uxor: "There are enough. And fortunately, you all look very similar. Only I fear this will simply cast suspicion on all your kind, and you'll have to endure more ill treatment by others more so than you already do. or at least more so from House Deneith than usual. I'm sorry for that."
Deriaz: *He sighed, and stared out the window for a moment before speaking again.* Well. . . . Now what? *Deriaz turned to look at her again.* We've got enough information from House Deneith to keep us busy for a time, unless you know of somewhere else we need to sneak into.
Uxor: *she half-heartedly smiled* "I was going to ask you the same. We have what we have. Now what do we DO with what we have? And no, for the moment I think our current sneaking has sufficed." *she nodded* "Sooner or later word is going to get out that someone has been lurking in the records room again. That creature is going to find out. And I think I know who it will come to ask questions of. You. And this time it might not come alone. I'm starting to think we might need to tell someone about this. Even if we don't have all the answers just yet."
Deriaz: Well, who do you think we can trust? I don't know of anyone that I can say I trust completely to keep this quiet. . . .
Uxor: *wriggled her mouth* "Well...Ruetger I know would keep a secret. If I stressed the urgency of it, Sho and even the Lady Hope could as well"
Deriaz: Well. . . . I don't know them as well as you do. I'll let you make the decision there, and I'll stick with you with whoever you choose.
Uxor: *she sat quietly for a moment* "I dont want to get you in trouble. I don't want to get Varro in trouble. Telling the others - even if they did keep it amongst ourselves - has the potential for both. But if I DONT tell someone... I am afraid they may hear of it by other means. Not to mention, the danger that might be lurking for you and I now."
Deriaz: *He was quiet for a moment.* Well, I'm sure the danger waiting for us can't be that bad. I mean, even if that creature appears again, it would be two on one this time. Maybe it's just me, but those are pretty good odds. . . And I'm sure that if you told the others, no harm would come to me, Varro, or you. They're your friends, aren't they? I'm sure they'd make sure to keep us three out of harm's way, not get us into it.
Uxor: *she nodded quietly* "I suppose the only thing left to do now is tell someone...and see what comes of it. If they cast me out, so be it. At least my conscious would be more clear"
Deriaz: *He grinned.* Don't worry, they won't throw you out. If anything, I'm sure they'd be willing to help you out, if you needed it.
Uxor: "You know I really dont think so either. But I'm just really afraid that this will cast a bad shadow on you and Varro." *she nodded at his side a moment, writing* "I think we've picked over all we can by ourselves. Do you want to prepaire to use the orb?"
Deriaz: Uhhh. . . . *He looked at the floor.* If you're ready to. I mean. . . If something went wrong. . .
Uxor: "It would give us a plausible excuse to have been up here all night though, no? I just need you to tell me a few things, so I can be ready. Such as...should the need arise, how do I take it out of you?"
Deriaz: I. . . Um. . . I don't know. The Wizard didn't exactly tell me that. . . I'd just assume that you just pry it out. *He laughed nervously.*
If something really bad happens, though. . . I'm giving you the right to knock me out. And if it goes far enough. . . Well. . . I'll assume you know what to do if knocking me out doesn't help at all. . . *He took a deep breath.* I don't know what else I need to explain. Or what more I CAN explain.
Uxor: "Alright. I would only do that if it really came to a need to stop you two or survive. Just be calm though. I don't want 'him'...does he even have a name?... to come popping out amid this. You got that?"
Deriaz: *He nodded.* Got it. . . . And I don't know his name. He's never said it. . . *He took a deep breath, and stood up.* Well, whenever you're ready. . .
Uxor: *she situated her things, and stood up and nodded. This was perhaps the single dumbest notion she'd had since the idea of spying on Varro and Mekari. But she had to. Deriaz had gone to great lengths to help her, and she felt obligated to do the same for him irregardless of the cost....so long as it was his choice. She took out a weapon and kept it ready, but not menacingly so. She shrugged a little as if to say 'sorry'*
Deriaz: *He laughed again.* Don't worry about it. I don't doubt you for taking it out. *He took another deep breath, and untied the mask, throwing it on the bed. He then untied the pouch, taking out the small, reddish-orange globe. He wrapped his fist around it, and glanced up at her once more, holding it up.* Well, here goes nothing. *He inserted it into the center of the rune on his forhead. It seemed to shine for a second, before going back to its normal color. He waited a moment, turning his hand around, as if expecting the color to change or something odd to occur. He shrugged, looking over at Uxor.*
Uxor: *she stood ready, though not entirely certain of what to do. It was not as if she oculd say 'are you ok'...she HOPED he would remember she couldn't talk*
Deriaz: *The orb shined once more, and turned black. The rune on his forehead began to glow a deep purple, and the armplates on his forearms snapped off, revealing the graffiti beneath. Under the etching, though, more runes glowed in response to the first one, and there was one on each arm.*
Uxor: *she crouched down every so slighty for a moment, watching expectantly, eyeing the runes trying to make sense of them. She knew common, auren, aquan, and enough Quori*
Deriaz: *Waves of black began to cover the metal, slowly turning it from its blue hue to a deeper blue, to an even deeper.*
Uxor: *she watched for any signs that he was suffering, or making any indication to stop whatever was happening to him*
Deriaz: *He watched as the color changed, and shrugged. He laughed.* Well. . . *He looked over at her.* I was expecting something more, you know? Like an electric current, or--*His voice stopped, as did the emotions on his face. His orange eyes glowed for a moment more, before turning colorless.*
Uxor: *she shifted up at ease at hearing him laugh and speak, then immediately resumed a more alert posture as he abruptly cut short*
Deriaz: *The waves continued to pulse, until he reached the black she had recognized earlier during their escape from House Deneith. The runes faded into the black, and the Warforged was left standing, motionless, at the foot of the bed.*
Uxor: *she waited*
Deriaz: *His hand twitched after a moment, and the arm slowly moved up to his face. His head eventually shook, and Deriaz's laugh came out behind it. The hand dropped, and another moment slowly ticked by. Eventually, the eyes lit up, revealing a familiar blood red color. They scanned the room.*
Uxor: *this color she knew. But she became no more defensive. If it was his alter-ego's intent to kill her, he had plenty of opportunity previously. So she watched like a wolf lurking around the encampment of men*
*His head twisted to the right, looking through the window they had come in earlier. Another laugh, but it was deeper this time. His eyes scanned back across the room, eventually falling on Uxor again.* Well, well. Looks like we meet again. . . Uxor, was it? *The red eyes fell on the sword.* Now, why the hostility? *He grinned roguishly, and drew his sword with an incredible speed.*
Uxor: *she didn't move to defend herself ... yet. She angled her head curiosly at him*
*He stared at her for a moment more.* What, no answer for your old friend? . . . Oh, that's right, you're the mute. . . *He turned around, walking slowly over towards the window. He stopped, and pivoted on one foot, pointing the sword at her.* I have half the mind to do what I wanted to earlier. . .
Uxor: *she shifted up and relaxed her stance somewhat. Obviously she was interested in hearing more of what he had to say*
*He watched her shift, and began to sidestep to the right, keeping the sword and his eyes on you. He was silent for a moment, but eventually seemed to relax slightly.* Of course. . . Where are my manners? *He gave a bow, though it was obviously the meaning in it was not ture.* The name's Ragyr. Perhaps you've heard of me? Killer, extraordinaire. *He grinned, and raised the sword again to point. He continued to watch her, eventually stopping his pacing to the right, and switching to the left.* Congratulations on talking the runt into putting the gem in. Been waiting a loooong time on this.
Uxor: *watched and moved slowly for the bed, sitting down on it, and pulling out some papers. She made a gesture as if to say 'permit me?'*
Ragyr: *He shrugged.* It's not like you've got any other way to answer me. Go ahead, scribble away.
Uxor: *she wrote* "What do you want?"
Ragyr: What do I want? *He laughed.* I already have what I wanted. Full control over this body. Been riding second to him for too long. You have no idea how long I've been wanting things to go back to normal.
Uxor: "Normal?"
Ragyr: Of course, normal. Didn't the runt tell you that? . . . *He stopped, lowering the sword slightly.* Oh, right, the memory thing. . . *He lifted the sword back up again, pointing at her.* Yeah, normal. It used to be I was the one in charge, not him. He was only there when I needed someone to bluff me out of getting caught from the guards, or anything involving a smooth talker. Hell, I even let him kill one or two of the jobs we took when he got bored of doing just the talking. *He laughed.*
Uxor: "You are...two? But share the same body?"
Ragyr: Of course we are! And we used to have no problems deciding who was in control at any time. *As if to prove a point, the eyes switched to a reddish-orange.* Though. . . *Both Deriaz's and Ragyr's voice came out in that one word, and then the eyes went back to red.* I can't say I liked it much. Sure, he'd get me out of trouble by using his quick talking. But sometimes he would just drag it on, and on. . . You look like the kind of person who understands. Less talking, more killing. Am I right?
Uxor: "Killing can be a necessary in the world. Killing is an aspect of life that cannot be gotten around. Some might consider me a 'murderer'"
Ragyr: *He grinned.* Being a murderer isn't good enough know. You need to be quick about it. The way he dragged it on with the smooth talking. . . It wasn't good enough for me. *He laughed.*
Uxor: "May I make a suggestion though?"
Ragyr: *His head turned slightly, looking at her out of the corner of his left eye.* A suggestion? *His pacing to the left stopped, and he began to move to the right again.*
Uxor: *she nodded very seriously* "Well. Perhaps I should ask first. What are you going to do, now that you have your...old selves back so to speak?"
Ragyr: *He grinned.* What else? Find someone who needs someone taken out, and take the job. Even if the runt isn't fond of the idea, I can force him to like it. . .Back to how it used to be. This city is bound to have an abundance of jobs.
Uxor: "Very well. I was going to offer you a job then, but ... there is something that I felt I should offer you that you may not have considered yet"
Ragyr: *He laughed.* I hadn't planned on taking a job from you. . . I had. . . Other. . . Plans. . . But another offer? Let's hear it.
Uxor: "you already have someone you work for?" *she started to write something out as she listened to his reply*
Ragyr: Not around here, though who's to say I may not take the two of us back to where we're from? *He laughed.*
Uxor: *on a seperate page she wrote* "I could never talk Deriaz into this. I know him enough to know his nature would cry foul if I suggested the idea. But how opposed would you be to ... performing a bit of an ambush for me?"
Ragyr: *His eyes perked slightly.* An ambush?. . . I'm listening. *She may have had his attention, but the sword remained up, and he continued to pace back and forth.*
Uxor: "More and more, I believe Mekari is more of a threat. Sure, we found information, but all it really tells us is...she's a liablility. Even her own house made a file on her" *she held out that page* "like they didn't trust her. Deriaz would never agree to this, so - seeing as how you're someone with a little less inhibition"
Ragyr: *His eyes narrowed.* And you want her taken out, am I right?
Uxor: "Well...ultimately yes. But the practicality of me doing it personally was not so. And i can't hire anyone to do it because word could get out that I was the one who sent the assassin. However... you look...different now. Different enough to pull it off...but..."
Ragyr: *He grinned.* Well, glad to see you don't mind if the runt was gone. . . . But go on. . . Different enough to pull it off, yes, but what?
Uxor: "Yes. The 'runt' as you refer to him. The runt may have more use in the coming days than you suspect. As for him being gone... you are who you are. Both of you. If this is your 'state of being' as it were, so be it. It is like saying a wolf cannot be the way it is. But do recall that you, in this form, have been seen. It won't take long for word to get out of the description of the attacker at the records room. Hence, your 'runt' might very well be useful in disguising you from prying eyes. If you walked out of here, tonight, down into the streets or beyond... I'm certain by now their house has put up wanted flyers or hired folk to start searching for a warforged meeting your description. And that will do you no good in terms of taking a job. Instead of employment, you'll get people turning you in for the price on your head"
Ragyr: *He laughed once.* It wouldn't be the first time. Trust me, there are jobs everywhere in any city. It's just a matter of how secretive you can be. . . .
Uxor: *she gave him a sidelong look* "Even Mekari and Varro seem to have found the need to change appearences and names, and based on what we've learned, they're rather masters of espianage, no?"
Ragyr: *He growled once.* I'm not seeing where you're going with this. Stop talking in riddles, and tell me straight: Do you want this Mekari--And Varro, thank you very much for the name--taken out? Or not? *He took a step forward towards her.* I'm not one for cheap talk.
Uxor: "Fine. If you accept my comission, I will pay you AFTER the job is done. Mekari is the target. I will arrange a meeting with her...if I can stomach that. Or perhaps 'deriaz' could ask to see her. Whichever you prefer. And all you need do is be there...and strike. But i will need proof of her death. I'm not going to accept 'MIA' like her former keepers did"
Ragyr: Pay? How much 'pay' are we talking about? And what would stop me from just running you through now, and taking what you have on you? Trust me. . . *He took another step forward. The sword tip was only a little more than a foot from her face now.* The price had better be good enough for me to not consider the second option. . .And, as for this 'Varro'. . . I've no guarantees he may not get a visit from me as well. My policy is once a name is uttered with my employers, I seek them all out. . . Whether or not I leave them alone. . .
Uxor: *She wrote calmly in her lap* "First off, I don't carry that much money ON me. That would be foolish. Any common thief could off me for it. I work on notes of mark. And as for a price... I would say, in light of my phobea of her, that 10,000pp would be a fair price for her head"
Ragyr: 10K? That's not even half of what I used to get from my old employers. . . I can't guarantee a name of an employer may not be discovered carved on the body with that kind of pay. . .
Uxor: *she huffed through her nose lightly* "This isn't a monarch you're taking out. And if anything, taking her out probably does you a favor. Undoubtedly she and the creature are in league in some form or other. I am curious though - why have you disabled and leave you to the sands... only to restore you?"
Ragyr: I'll consider the offer. . . *He took a step back.* As for disabling? *He laughed.* It was a mistake. A set up that I planned during a job. It was a way to get this runt out of me, and get him jailed. . . A fatal mistake made by one of my colleagues. . . *He stared at her for a moment.* Why should I explain any more to you? *He stepped forward again.*
Uxor: *she shrugged a little* "your actions are your own Karma... I just figured it was my karma to offer you aide since it was you who got me out of there in the records room"
Ragyr: *He laughed.* You think I wanted to get you out of there? I would have much preferred to let you die there, and get out on my own, or just enjoy the bloodbath that you so gracefully stole from me. *His swordarm tensed, and he stared at her like someone wanting revenge.*
Uxor: *she sat unwavering, writing without looking really* "why would you? I still don't entirely understand that. Why help me? you had control at that point, no?"
Ragyr: Not complete. I may have looked like I had control, but the runt was fighting for control. I had no choice. If I would have killed you then and there, I'm sure he would have thrown us both to a pack of Rust Monsters, or something. I'm not going to risk losing this body, unless it means him staying in it, and going to jail. . . *He grinned.* Or having an 'accident'. . . But now that I have COMPLETE control. . . It doesn't matter if I killed you now. There's not a damned thing he could do.
Uxor: "that is another reason for a low price on the head of Mekari...Deriaz. Is there any chance that he can over take you as you did to him? Because I can't have an assassin who would get a spell of guilt before the job that may impaire the hunt"
Ragyr: *He pointed with his free hand to the black gem in his forehead.* Not anymore, now that the two halves have been completed again. He has no control anymore. In a sense, when I don't WANT him in control, he's in a near comatose state. And trust me. . . I'm not going to give him control for a long time. Forget disguises. Forget smooth talking. I'm going to have some fun for a few. . . Years. . . Before I even consider letting him run the show again.
Uxor: "Good to know. It would be within my means to up the price, so long as I had a guarentee of reliability"
Ragyr: Reliability? *He thrust the sword forward, holding it an inch in front of her face, between her eyes.* I don't know if you should be thinking about that right now. I'd be more worried about the fact that the machine in front of you has murder on the mind. . .
Uxor: *she blinked slowly. Her stoic expression spoke to one who had seen the bottom of despair, and was therefor...broken. She had no fear of an end... perhaps she'd tried to arrive at that end of her own accord. Her hand penned out slowly* "How much?"
Ragyr: How much? You're still talking about price? *He seemed to snarl at the fact his intimidation hadn't worked.* . . . A LOT more than what you stated before. I don't care if it's not monarchy we're dealing with here. . . In other words. . .Put a price on your life. I'll be the one to decide if it's worth it.
Uxor: "I'm a working sword. Funds can be generated. And since my original offer was not to your liking. My life is worthless. I accept that. Life as a slave teaches you this. So perhaps a different source of pricing index?"
Ragyr: *He dropped the sword and walked to the side of the room. He grabbed a desk, pushing it effortlessly in front of the door. He jumped up and sat down on the desk, and pointed the sword again at her.* I'm listening. . . I just want to be sure no one leaves here until we have this settled, or someone's blood is on the floor.
Uxor: "Very well. Though I don't think I was planning on going anywhere. I'm the one sitting down already. But you are right, we should have this settled. Tell me a price for your trouble. And I gather that 'karma' has little bearing on your negotiations"
Ragyr: Well. . . Going off of what my old hunting grounds used to fetch me, a normal assassination, done by me, was about 25K. . . And you want an ambush? AND a proof of death? . . . *He stared off for a second, and an evil grin began to form.* I'll go with 40K, in platinum. Though, as I've said, I would much rather have blood than money, considering who I'm making this deal with.
Uxor: "and why is it that it is such a problem that it is 'me' you make this deal with? One would think it would be I having the problem for making a deal with the one who has for all intents and purposes eliminated my friend"
Ragyr: *He slammed his fist down on the desk.* Because you're the one who deprived me of the fun I could have had in that building! But no! Instead, you and the runt wanted to get out so badly! What would have been the harm in five, ten, maybe twenty casualties? Maybe MORE, if I felt like it! Instead, escape seemed to be all that mattered!
Uxor: "Well...firstly, the need for low profile. Secondly, I see how well the two of you did last time with that creature, and sticking around there was only going to present a target for it that said 'hey, we're over HERE' but you know that. I think you WANT to see that thing again. Fine, have it your own way if you feel the need to replay that match. I'm certain it will come for you again if you take out Mekari"
Ragyr: Of course I want to see that thing again! The thing messed with your mind! So who's to say I couldn't have Deriaz take all the harm, and my consciousness would be unaffected? . . . *He stared at her, and another evil grin came across his face.* Though. . .You want an ambush? Fine. . . *He jumped up off the table, and began to slowly walk towards her, sword still extended.* How do you want it done? Sword through the heart? *Another step.* Maybe a shuriken or two just happens to land in her neck? *He had cleared the span of the room, and the sword was once again in her face, and the grin remained on his face.* Or. . .*He held up a hand, and a rune began to glow. He held his free hand up, and his fingers began to glow orange.* I can do something a little less metal, a little more. . . Heated. *He snapped his fingers, and a small flame appeared in his hand.*
Uxor: *at the appearence of Fire, it was all she could do to keep her calm. She covered her fear with a look of disdain, gnarling her nose at him* "perhaps I should hold our head under water. But that isn't the matter. We haven't even agreed on the price much less the manner by which it happens. Since you were passenger to Deriaz's view on the world, perhaps you will recall when I told him that SHE terrifies me. I might be 'afraid' of fire...but she shakes me until I cannot look at her hardly. Hence my need for hired help, since you obviously wont do it as a 'friend' And it is likely that she has her own special means of combat. Beyond what her file indicates. SHE WALKED UP A WALL ... and Deriaz and you say this thing 'looks' like a spider. For all we know, SHE is the creature itself"
Ragyr: *He curled his hand, extinguishing both the flame and the rune.* Persistant, slow. . . Yet quick in mind. . . Fine. Since the one your asking me to ambush sounds like an interesting opponent. . . I'll do it for free. . . On one condition.
Uxor: *she quirked a brow at him as if to say 'go on'*
Ragyr: You seem to be liking the idea of hired help to take out this. . . 'Mekari'. . . But from what I've seen, now that I'm here. . . You've seemed to forget completely about the runt. . . So, my proposal. It is two-fold. . .One. The only employers I work with have MULTIPLE jobs. By accepting this job, am I being assured that there will be other jobs down the line? And two, which I'm sure you will enjoy. . .Are you quite sure you're fine with having the runt out of your life? If I'm going to start. . . Hunting, in a sense. . . Again, I need to know no one will miss him. I don't want him to surface for a few years. I'm going to enjoy this time back in control.
Uxor: "You are mistaken if you think I have 'forgotten.' There is acceptance, and forgetting. This is who you are. It would not be right to have it any other way. It would be a lie" *she paused then wrote* "May I tell him something?"
Ragyr: *He eyed her carefully.* Depends. What are you going to say to him? Now that we're back as one, if I let him come out again, I will go into the semi-comatose state, and won't be able to hear or see what you two will do. I want to be absolutely assured that I'm not being backstabbed.
Uxor: "I understand. I will not press the matter then. If I were you, I'd be thinking the same thing. I just thought he could hear me since you could hear when he was in control before. I was mistaken. I suppose it was more something I wanted to ask him really. Actually, in a way, I'm glad he ISNT able to hear us right now. He would think badly of me. . . knowing what I am asking"
Ragyr: *He eyed her carefully again, and laughed once. His eyes went colorless, and the metal began to change back to blue. After a moment, the familiar orange eyes appeared.*
Uxor: *she wrote* "Deriaz...are you displeased to have your memories again? Don't be disheartened by the life that fate has delt to you"
Deriaz: *He read the note slowly, as if he had just woken up. He looked at the sword in his hand, still an inch from her face, and pulled it back quickly. He sheathed it, and read the note again.* Displeased? . . . A little, yes. Sure, it's great to see where I'm from. . . But. . . *He stopped, trying to put the words in order.* I'm. . . Not exactly happy with the fact I'm a murderer. . . Not just him. I'm just as bad as him. . .
Uxor: "'bad' is a relative term. I am sorry. As is murderer. I think those we vanquish at the request of the silver flame would view us in that light. But to the silver flame, we are heros, no?"
Deriaz: *He shook his head quickly.* No. . . No, it isn't like that. He's not telling the whole truth. He doesn't take just jobs. He kills for fun, as well. If you could see some of the things he does to the people he kills. . . I don't know if I could ever consider myself a 'hero'. . .
Uxor: "Do you think bad of me for asking him to do this?"
Deriaz: *He blinked a few times.* Asking him. . . To do what?
Uxor: *she breathed heavily through her nose, and scooted over on the bed, motioning for him to sit by her as she started to write something*
Deriaz: *He nodded, and sat down beside her. He looked around the room, and his eyes were wide, like someone who had seen a ghost.*
Uxor: *whatever she wrote, she folded the paper in half, then wrote on a different piece of paper* "before I hand this to you to read... you must promise me something. That no matter what it says. you will not be angry with me. You will be calm, and you will listen..."
Deriaz: Uxor, I. . . *He shook his head.* Yeah, anything.
Uxor: *she slipped him the piece of paper which read* "I have asked him to kill Mekari"
Deriaz: *He stared at the paper for a few seconds, and then shook his head.* I guess I can't be surprised. I mean, who better to talk to, eh, then two killers? . . . But I know you know what you're doing. Just promise me you-- *He stopped midsentence, and his eyes faded. The metal switched back to black, and the eyes flashed red again.*
Ragyr: *He stood up quickly, and pulled the sword out again, aiming it at her.* I think that's a good enough length. Hope I'm not interrupting anything important. . . *He looked at the note in his hand, and laughed.* Perhaps I have.
Uxor: *she shook her head* "you only interrupted him. At least that way I cannot make a promise I cannot keep."
Ragyr: Promise? *He eyed her suspiciously, but shrugged it off.* Forget I asked. . . *He grinned.* So how's he coping with the memory? I'd assume he's a little shaken. . .The little runt was never good at big surprises.
Uxor: "He didn't seem so shaken to me. . . still in shock perhaps. But there is some degree of...acceptance of his origin. You are willing to kill Mekari at no cost... I still feel the need to have some sort of repayment to you. Perhaps there is a favor I can do for you in return?"
Ragyr: I've already stated the terms. You supply me with MULTIPLE jobs--I'm not speaking two or three--and you agree that. . . Except for that one instance. . . You're fine with him leaving your life for a few years.
Uxor: *she considered the terms* "by multiple...you do not mean indefinite do you?"
Ragyr: Not indefinite, no. I just want multiple. On average, my employers give me thirty or more. . . And they usually only run out of jobs if they've come across an 'accident'. . . Though this accident is usually directly related to the lack of jobs. *He grinned roguishly at her.* And by years, I'll decide that. I'm thinking five may be enough, though I may settle for more.
Uxor: "are you going to be as particular over the work as you were with this job?"
Ragyr: Of course. I'm always this thorough. Are you saying you can't handle the terms?
Uxor: "Only being as thorough as you"
Ragyr: *He grinned.* Good answer. . . Though I've only got one question for you. . .Let's say you DID agree to the terms. . . How often do you think you'd have a job for me? I'm not one to take a day off, I'll have you know. *He narrowed his eyes at her.*
Uxor: "As often as you like. Are your only talents killing?"
Ragyr: Depends on what other talents you're looking for. But yes, killing is my expertise. I don't know any other job that I could stick to.
Uxor: "So infiltration is just a hobby of your counterpart then?"
Ragyr: I can't say I'm very sneaky when it comes to infiltrating someplace, but yes. . . If you need me to get you in somewhere, I'm sure I could force my way in. . .
Uxor: "There may yet be a need for that, but that would not be my primary concern. I find these terms acceptable. What pact shall we have... spit and shake, written contract, oral word as good as any?"
Ragyr: *He seemed to look at her in confusion as she listed the types of pacts.* What? What are you talking about? . . . I just take the job and go. I've never actually DONE something. . . I don't know. Whatever works for you. Spitting is out for me, though. *He laughed.*
Uxor: "Didn't know if you required something more solid than one another's word to have an accord"
Ragyr: Well, make a contract or something if you want. I usually take the payment as a sort of way to judge if I can trust a person or not, but if I'm not being paid. . .
Uxor: *she started to draw up a document for him, then rolled it out indicating for him to sign. She set her writing stick down if he didn't wish to sign in 'oil' as it were*
Ragyr: *He stared at the line for a moment, and then picked up the writing stick. He started to make what looked more like squiggles than letters.* Bah. *He drew a staright line through the rest of the space.* Good enough.
Uxor: *she nodded and rolled it up, resuming writing on her previous paper* "Mekari seems to have the ability to just...appear. So it will be necessary to set up a meeting with her in order to get her in one place at one time. Where should this occur?"
Ragyr: Wherever you want it to. I'm the one ambushing, remember? I can work from anyplace. Just name a place, I'll wait there. . . . And you still haven't told me how you want this done. Just an old-fashioned, straight slaughter?
Uxor: "it would be best if it did not appear so...professional. Or have any indication of who the handy work was by. No sense ruining our arrangement early. Do you work better in the open or in a confined space?"
Ragyr: Got it. Make it sloppy. And they're equal to me. I'll adapt to any situation.
Uxor: "Well... then it's best to make it an area of town that is more likely to be home to this sort of thing happening. In the harbor perhaps? Or the warehouse district?"
Ragyr: From what time the runt spends in the Harbor, it seems to have plenty of alleyways and dark places to work with. It could be an option. Or. . . Spent. . . I should say. *He laughed.*
Uxor: *she nodded in apparent agreement*
Ragyr: *He finally dropped the sword, and smiled at her. If there's nothing left to discuss, I would say you have yourself a killer.
Uxor: "Very well. What route in that district should I set her upon? Perhaps she might just teleport there, I dont know if that is how she gets around town. But where shall I tell her to go specifically? A landmark that is easy to know. The beach? The ally down the way from the Blue Lobster?"
Ragyr: That alley sounds good. Would give me a chance to come down from the roof on her. The beach sounds too open to be able to ambush easily.
Uxor: *she nodded* "So she will be down in the alley, and you atop the roof to spring on her?"
Ragyr: *He nodded in return.* No one ever expects something to come at them from above. It would give me the best way to surprise her.
Uxor: "I suppose you're right. What day shall I arrange it for. Tomorrow?"
Ragyr: As soon as possible. I like quick jobs. So tomorrow, if that's the earliest you can get her to come, yes.
Uxor: "Very well. If she agrees, should I send word, or you will simply wait there for her, and if she doenst' show, assume that I could not arrange it for tomorrow?"
Ragyr: Waiting sounds best to me. I'll wait there as long as I have to. Just get her to go down that alleyway. I can handle the rest. I just hope this Mekari is as interesting as you say she is. Don't forget, I'm still not pleased I was forced out of some fun earlier tonight.
Uxor: *she nodded* "I understand. I don't doubt that she will prove to be a challenge. On success or no, we will meet again to discuss the next job?"
Ragyr: *He walked over to the door and threw the desk aside, letting it slide back to where it was against the wall, then returned to glance at her note. He nodded.* Of course we will. I would prefer to keep the meeting place to the same location, to prevent confusion on switching locations. . . . *He laughed.* And don't worry, it will be a success.
Uxor: "In this room then?"
Ragyr: *He only nodded.*
Uxor: *She sat back on the bed situating her things as he left*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn IV "Changes of Cloths" Chapter 2

*Once Ragyr had passed down the hall a short distance, Uxor frantically collected her things. Tonight was her only chance - if she had any chance - of upgrading the situation from abysmal to bearable.

She’d made the agreement with Ragyr, knowing that it would buy her the time she needed. He would be waiting for the appearance of Mekari, while she found someone to help. Without his apparent awareness, she’d managed to glean from him many useful things. His weaknesses, strategies, tactics... all in the guise of an interview for this ‘job.’ Though her careful planning could have nearly come unraveled at any time. She wasn’t entirely sure where Ragyr was in that moment, but there was no sense in being caught after so carefully planning. Thankful for still having the invisibility and jump potions, she slurped one of each down, and made her way out the window to the roof. Heading towards the guildhall, she made it halfway there before she came to an abrupt stop.

She couldn’t tell them.

Even if they were successful in disabling Ragyr, by sending any of them, he would know it was her doing. She’d already taken into account that restoring Deriaz to control over the body would not rid them of Ragyr – and should he resurface, the last thing she needed was him bent on extracting revenge on she and the others of the fellowship. This mess was her doing. After all, she’d agreed to allow Deriaz to put the gem in. Thus, it was her responsibility to set things right on her own.

As much as she hated to admit it, she found her thoughts going to Varro. If anyone stood a chance of peacefully disabling the warforged, but understood a need for discretion, it was him. There was also the aspect that he would be in no greater danger than he already was at this point. Ragyr knew who he was, and more than likely, he would pay Varro a visit. . .if he wasn’t already doing so tonight.

She found herself running and bounding across the buildings almost in a panic. Ragyr, like her, also had until tomorrow. He could already be making a detour for Varro that very day! Varro would be taken by surprise, having no awareness of the situation. For the time being, she pushed aside the question of how she would explain to Varro why Ragyr would be looking for him...
Or why Ragyr was waiting on the roof to ambush Mekari...
Or how it was that a warforged matching Ragyr’s description had been
spotted breaking into House Deneith’s private grounds, and here she was conversing with him – hiring him no less. All these matters she shoved aside as she made a mad dash for the Phoenix Tavern.*

*Being invisible was the least of her worries as she charged through the door, nearly knocking a patron over with it. Immediately she flew to the upper seating as fast as her legs would take her. At the sight of empty tables, she felt as if her heart had tried to climb out via her throat. Varro was not here.

Over and over she pictured Ragyr luring Varro out to some dark place. Attacking Varro. Torturing him. Killing him. She had been so worried about losing her two best friends... and now both Deriaz and Varro would be taken from her in a single night. She fell to her knees at a loss, panting from running and desperately trying to think. Mostly, she was trying to get calm enough to do so. She stared down below at Cog, the tender, watching him clean the bar, focusing on the motions to try and relax. As she lost herself in the rhythmic cleaning ritual of the barkeep, she started to feel calmer. Then she noticed how quiet it was as the echo of Cog’s chores carried up to her. The Phoenix was practically empty. A feeling of hope welled up within her as she realized that she’d completely forgotten what time it was. It was nearly dawn. Of course Varro wasn’t here – if he was at all in his usual routine, he’d already made for home to sleep.

The idea of stealth or impending danger was not her concern as she bolted through the streets, taking the fastest route she knew. Uxor cared for nothing in that moment except getting to Varro. She skittered to a stop at his porch, ascending the stairs in jumping stride, and rapped her knuckles quickly against the door. Silence. The sinking feeling of dread returned, and she knocked more forcefully. She felt herself starting to weep uncontrollably as she pounded the door hard, pleadingly, but hearing no answer. If Varro had been in danger before, it was none so immediate as the moment he nearly had the life crushed out of him as Uxor threw herself around him, overjoyed at the sight of a groggy, disgruntled, half dressed bard opening his door.*

Varro: Who in the h...OOF

*Uxor heard him scream something, and she found herself dazed, but still locked onto him; she felt him writhing to escape the hug. Then she felt pain. He was attacking her? She realized that when she had moved to hug him, she’d still been invisible. So here he was fumbling around in the dark, trying to beat off his unseen “assailant.” The two crashed to the floor, and Varro sprang back, making for a weapon and a light. Upon seeing who it was on his floor, he relented his efforts to take out the intruder. He picked her up, where at she clung to him again in some strange mixture of crying and happiness. *

Varro: What has gotten into you? You’re lucky I found the light first and not my sword! What in the name of all gods... *the absolute intensity of the way she held to him, and the feeling of her wracked with fits of sobs and gasps for air, sobered him quickly. He tried to guide her to a chair, hugging her in return to comfort her* Calm down. Here, sit for me. What’s happened? *he went round to try and pull out some paper and the writing stick from her pack. She felt him move to retrieve the items, and in any other situation, this would be no problem – except she realized her bag was filled with the documents they’d transcribed about Mekari, the Silver Stalkers, and “Lucian.” He might pull one of those out! Twisting round, she wrapped her arms round his midriff and buried her face in his side and arm – the arm now restrained by her hold. Playing up her emotional state, she resurfaced the tears, and choked out horse whimpers onto him. There really was no acting to it though at this point; her frets and the need for help were dire*

Varro: Uxor what is wrong with you? Now look *he resumed trying to work his way out of her grasp, and tried to take both her hands in his to guide them to the table* You have to tell me, alright? But we both know the physical impossibility of that. So until you’re ready to start writing, I will just try to guess.

*She nodded slightly, trying to get composure, but feeling dreadful over the predicament that she only seemed to compound every time she tried to do something to help*

Varro: You’re in trouble?

*At first she nodded yes, then no; it was complicated. She pointed at him, at herself, then she tried to hold her hands in two circles, which she held to her eyes, followed by making a gesture for height*

Varro: Something about your warforged friend? You think he and I are creating more dresses for you to wear at the Fashion Show behind your back?

*She dropped her hands and beamed an indignant look at him. She shook her head and started getting out something to write on. It took a moment to find something not already covered in conversations between she, Deriaz, and Ragyr*

Varro: Ah ha. See I thought if I played this game poorly, it might inspire you to write *he offered a mischievous grin*

*She wrote the note to him in their private code – a mixture of Auren and Quor – for several reasons. First, it was faster. The flowing script was easier to scribe than common. Next, she didn’t want any prying eyes to read this conversation for the sake of all of them. The single most important one, however, was ensuring that the wording never be understood by Ragyr. She wished there was a way to communicate with Deriaz without the possibility of Ragyr finding out. But as it stood, she sincerely doubted such could occur. Varro was predominantly quiet, watching her write. The script on the page told him the issue was confidential, even without reading the contents. He spoke their private language to assure her he understood*

Varro: [Mind if I get a little more dressed? Not that I think you care at this point. . .]

*She nodded and waved him an ‘of course, sorry’ while she finished writing. Varro walked past her, patting her reassuringly on the shoulder, heading for his bedroom and closing the door*

*What started with frantic rambling had slowed on the page, and Uxor went from laying everything in the open, to picking over what she wrote. Caution was needed to ensure she didn’t say more than she meant to. It was already difficult juggling what she could tell Varro, with what she could tell Deriaz... Ragyr... and not to mention Ruetgar... or Sho...

Her head felt as if it were currently comprised of many little compartments that she had to open in the right order. Varro once told her - back when they first started as ambassadors - that matters of words were not an art to dabble in by those without express training. She wished now to have permitted him to talk her out of the job completely. On the other hand, despite the overwhelming complications, she felt that if she’d declined this way of life, things might have been worse. There was no way to know and thus she decided there was no point in reflecting on “should” and “if”*

*When Varro returned, he sat down and watched her finish the note. She’d written quite a bit, but he didn’t press her to speed up or cut it short. The writing seemed to help settle her some. When she’d finished, she scooted the paper towards him and put her hands in her lap, watching him with wide eyes*

“Something is wrong. I’ve allowed something terrible to happen, and I can think of no way to fix it. I was helping Deriaz – please know that even though you are my friend, this is not something I would speak of with anyone, because it is personal to Der. But the situation is unusual and dangerous. I don’t think there is any way round giving you details. Deriaz had no memory and was recently provided with the means to restore that memory by way of a gemstone; like some sort of docent. I agreed to stay with him because he didn’t know what would happen when he unlocked the memories. Well Deriaz is not alone. He has some kind of alter ego residing in him. By putting in that gem, he’s unknowingly given this other personality full control over his body. It calls itself ‘Ragyr.’ And what’s more ‘Ragyr’ is an assassin. We need to disable him to try and get Deriaz back. Ragyr isn’t just an assassin; he kills for his amusement. I don’t think I am strong enough to take him down by force alone”

Varro: [And I take it this is where I come in?] *he traced the line with his finger*

“You have ways that you can disable him peacefully, no? There is another problem. I can’t help put Ragyr out of comission. Ragyr allowed me to speak with Deriaz, so I know Deriaz is still in there. But I also know now that Ragyr has been within Der the whole time, lying in wait for control. Even if we restore Der, Ragry still has the capasity to regain control if Der is impaired. And when that happens – knowing I was the one who helped put him away again, he will kill me, and probably anyone close to me, for spite. I sent Ragyr on a fake assignment to take someone out for me to give me time to come up with some kind of plan. Please help me Varro, I don’t know what else to do”

Varro: [Well a few things first. If I’m the one who catches him, he’d still trace it back to you. If this Ragyr has ‘always’ been there, he knows that you and I are close.]

*She motioned for the page to continue writing*

“Perhaps. But considering the situation, I don’t think it will be so much of a problem. He wants to kill you anyway Varro...to be vicious to Deriaz and I. You have a better chance of acting without being seen directly”

Varro: [Ah, that is what this is about then? I’m flattered that you hold our friendship so highly as to watch out for my personal well being – but I’m a bit more capable of taking care of myself than you give me credit for. Thank you all the same.]

*She leveled her look at him, gesturing for her paper back again to quickly footnote the words* “If it had been Ragyr at your door invisible, the only hug you might get from him was by means of a garrot!” *She’d slid the comment out, realizing only after writing it how it might get him thinking on what she had found out about him... rather what she suspected anyway. That he was Lucian. She couldn’t scratch it out now, so she watched his reaction to what was written*

Varro: [Fair enough. Am I to presume we should be expecting another guest soon then?]

*she shook her head no*

Varro: [Where is he now?]

*How to answer. She couldn’t hesitate long* “He’s on the roof top of the ally behind the Blue Lobster, so he can ambush the ‘job’. I told him it would be arranged for this eve, so he’s liable to be up there all night. I hope anyway”

Varro: [And who is his target now?]

*The question she’d really hoped to skirt had been presented unavoidably. There were three choices
Lie to him
Tell him
Or twist partial truth
Perhaps there was a forth – denying the answer altogether* “What does it matter? There’s no real job.”

Varro: [It matters because I know you. You’re smart enough to have given him a name he’d be opt to go after. Not to mention you’re not the type for word games – you wouldn’t make a deal that was an outright lie. That’s not your style. So who was it?]

*the difficulty of presenting him with a name only served to bring more attention to it. Still there were ways to try and salvage this* “Mekari”

Varro: [Why her?] *he quirked his brow at this*

*Uxor had to focus to keep a purposeful expression. Giving half truths was a degree easier in writing than in speech since she didn’t have to worry about tell tale signs such as her voice wavering* “Ragyr sees her as a challenge. It was someone I knew would be unlikely for him to chance upon in the streets. It was believable because she is a new comer and seems, by all accounts, to be a figure of suspicion among the Fellowship.” *at least those were facts – she had just been careful to omit the rest of the details* “And IF by some strange stroke of unluckiness something happened, I know Mekari could heal herself until she found help.”

Varro: [You didn’t bother telling her about her newly acquired admirer?]

“Varro, I can’t tell ANYONE! Even telling you I risk much. If word gets out about Ragyr and Deriaz: even if I’m able to get Der back, he’ll have to contend with whatever trouble Ragyr’s gotten him into. And I’m not certain entirely if I CAN get him back. If I can, I don’t want anyone to know that Der and Ragyr are in the same body. Anyone with a grudge against Ragyr will come seeking Der. I don’t want that to happen. Not after I helped get him into this against my better judgment”

*He set the note down*

Varro: [I will do this for you. But you must tell me all you can of them. Their tactics. Known weaknesses. Anything that will help to immobilize them quickly.]

*She transcribed as much as she could remember of tactical information* “. . . and this is very important too: Ragyr has red eyes. Der has orange. If you see red, then you know who you’re dealing with. He also has the capability to let Der control the body. He might try to trick you using Deriaz, and poor Deriaz would be clueless to it until it was too late. Don’t trust anything he says or does until that gem is out, and even then, act with caution”

Varro: [and if he cannot be restored, what then? I’m not trying to make light of your very valiant act here, but you must have already taken into consideration that Deriaz may very well be gone for good]

*With a heavy sigh, she wrote* “Before he used it, he told me that if it came to it, if I must disable him, I had his blessing. Even if it meant killing him.”

Varro: [Good to know. Though I’ll see what I can do for avoiding the killing aspect of things]

*Silently she mouthed the words ‘thank you’*

*Varro stood up, taking the notes and soaking them in a wash basin until the ink had run and it was completely illegible*

Varro: [I want you to wait at the place you told Ragyr to meet you once the ‘job’ is done. No matter what do not try to come to us Uxor, do you hear me?] *he glanced back over his shoulder at her* [You will wait there and after tonight, if I am successful, then you will find yourself face to face with your warforged. If not, then you will see me, for I will kill him if Deriaz can’t be regained. I am sorry Uxor, but this must be the way of things] *turning round to look at her* [Once I start this, there is no going back. I might be able to catch him off guard initially, but his ignorance will be short lived once I fully engage him should he prove difficult. Deriaz will understand, if what you’ve told me is true of his last wishes.]

*Uxor sank a little with that ultimatum, but he was right. Once Ragyr knew his foe, he would be relentless. She started to get up from the chair, and bowed in apparent understanding. Then she walked towards him and put a hand on his shoulder*

Varro: [Don’t worry, I will be fine. Just be patient and wait. Now go back, before he hears of you slipping off to conspire.]

*The uneasy feeling grew more with every hour that passed that night, waiting for whoever might show outside the door to the rented room at the Rusty Nail. One in three. . . those were the odds of the face at the door being good news. If she saw Deriaz, then all would be well. But if she saw Varro, then she’d lost her metal friend; and if she saw Ragyr, then Varro was no more. Often she’d tried her luck with Dice at the tavern. Now she had placed a wager on the lives of the two people who were most important*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn IV "Changes of Cloths" Chapter 3

-------------------TRANSCRIPT----------------
Ragyr: *Ragyr sat on top of the roof in the alleyway that Uxor had mentioned. He had spent the night up there, and passed the time, though slowly, in the day up there as well. As the sky turned black, he began to scan the alleyway below. If anyone was to pass by and look up, the only easily visible thing would have been two red eyes that disappeared rather quickly out of sight.*

*he did see something, but now down below as he sat on the roof. He saw Uxor climbing up on the roof at the far end, looking around and creeping. She looked his way and motioned for him*

Ragyr: *He crept over quickly, but silently. A moment later, he was by her side.* What? Can't you get here to come here?

*as he was coming closer, he heard something... a small sound coming from below*

Ragyr: *He motioned down, as if implying if that was that Mekari they were after below.*

*Uxor also seemed to hear it, and crouched down almost before he said anything, practically quaking where she stood. The sound was getting closer*

Ragyr: *His eyes went colorless, and he slowly leaned over, looking down into the alleyway.*

*he didn't see anything below, but he heard something clearly now. Music wafting up to him*

Ragyr: *He looked back at Uxor, confused. For a moment, he considered asking her if she thought it was some kind of joke, but decided not to. Instead, he continued to scan below in the alleyway, trying to find the source of the tune.*

*as he was leaning in to find the source of the tune, he realized he couldn't move*

Ragyr: *His pulse quickened as he tried to force himself to move, but nothing would respond. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down, and waited to see if the tune would fade away.*

*the tune lingered. He heard another sound next to him. Laughter. Female laughter* My my, that is easier than I thought. And to think, I figured you'd make me go through some sort of verification first

Ragyr: *He began to panic, wishing he could get to the shadows. Ragyr tried to turn his head to see who had spoken, but cursed in his mind when he remembered that nothing was responding.*

Voice: Now, that is a very interesting look you have. Why don't you tell me more about it *and he felt a wave of a familiar sensation wash over him. That this voice was a friend.*

Ragyr: New look? I don't know what you're talking about. . . *The memory of Deriaz and his encounter with the creature flashed through his mind* Oh, right. That. I. . . Thought that black and red may be more suited for me. . .

Voice: Tell you what, friend, I'm going to give you some magic that will be very very helpful to you. Would you like that, friend?

Ragyr: *He would shrug if he could.* Sure, why not.

*he felt another wave of sensation wash over him, as if he somehow were more closely bonded with his friend* Voice: There much better. Now, if anything happens to me, you will share in my pain, because that is what friends do for one another. So keep that in mind, should any harm fall on me. Now, why don't you tell me about that little gem in your forehead?

Ragyr: The gem put me back in control of this body, and put the other one out of commission until I feel I need him to take control.

Voice: Why don't you show me how to take it out?

Ragyr: Why? No one else is upset with the new owner of this body. . . What's wrong that you want me to take it out?

Voice: There is nothing wrong with you at all... I just am trying to learn about my friend. I should hate for there to be any misunderstandings between one another. This is what friends do for one another, they share things. I will share something about myself for you

Ragyr: Sure, I'll share almost anything. . . But I'm not going to demonstrate how to take the gem out. I said how it works. Don't you trust me?

Voice: I understand. It is no trouble, I just wanted to ensure I understood you properly. Tell you what, why don't we go for a little walk?

Ragyr: I would. . . Except there's the fact that I can't move. I don't know what did it, but nothing's responding. . .

Voice: Just give it another moment, I think you'll find yourself perfectly capable of walking about *and indeed, he found now he could move. Perhaps he'd been able to move for longer, but he'd been so caught up in talking with his friend*

Ragyr: *He stood up and stretched. During the day, the metal in his arms and legs had stretched due to the length of time the gem had been in place, and he now stood a head taller than Deriaz's original height.* Where are we going? *He turned to face the source of his friend's voice.*


*He saw his friend Mekari standing there smiling at him* We're going to take a little stroll down the streets towards the Harbor. I have something I want to show you. It's hard to explain up here.

Ragyr: What's so hard about it to explain up here. . .? *He shrugged.* Forget I asked. Lead on.

Mekari: It's one of those things where you have to see it to understand *and she lead him towards the edge* Are you able to hop down? Or do you need help?

Ragyr: *Ragyr nodded.* I'm capable. *He leaped off the roof, landing in the alleyway below. His red eyes glanced back up.* Unless you need help?

Mekari: Oh I have some featherfalling magic on me yet, but thank you *and she sipped a potion and then glided down beside him* We're going to need to hurry though, so I hope you're a decent runner

Ragyr: *He grinned.* As fast as you want me to move.

Mekari: *she nodded and smiled, pursing her little red lips* Well...don't outrun me...*and she started off down the street with him. They were drawing near the harbor docks, and she started to slow her pace*

Ragyr: *He didn't slow down at first, and began to run in front of her. After a second, he slowed his pace quickly to match hers.* Why are we slowing down? Are we there?

Mekari: We are. Can you hear it? *and she looked around as if she were focusing on something*

Ragyr: *He searched around as well.* I don't know what you're asking me to hear. I'm not hearing anything out of the ordinary. . . Just the normal sounds that you would find at a harbor dock. . .

Mekari: Listen carefully *and now he did hear it. Music. And once more, he found he was unable to move*

Ragyr: *He growled.* What-- What's going on?. . . Is. . . I think that's the same tune I heard earlier. . . *He struggled again to try to force himself to move.* What's going on!?

Mekari: Calm down. I told you I was going to share something with you. But it is very shocking. Tell me something, am I able to speak with Deriaz for a moment? I assure you the conversation I have with him you will also be privy to. and I can't have him simply trying to make a break for it, can I? He might try to take control again. Isn't that so?

Ragyr: He wouldn't be able to take control again. . . But I guess I see what you're saying with the runt trying to make a break for it. . . Give me a second. *The metal in his legs and arms began to shrink slightly, and he was back to his original height. The metal turned blue, and the eyes went colorless for a moment. The orange eyes appeared again, but quickly went into panic when Deriaz realized he couldn't move.* Wha--? *His eyes fell on Mekari, and he stopped talking immediately.*

Mekari: Hello there Deriaz *she smiled* I wanted to show you something before I inform your counterpart. I understand that there may be some unusual interest in me, and I felt it necessary to show you something. If you value your comfort, I recommend that you remain calm *and she reached up towards her face, pulling something off. There was a visual flicker, and he saw what at first seemed to be her pulling her face off and away. In that moment, the outline of her form changed, and he saw the creature standing there, with the wind rustling its silvery fur. It was the same creature that had encountered him before when he first tried to steal the documents. There was no mistaking it. The thing stood at least as tall as he, and had a body covered in a thin shimmering material that may or may not have been some sort of wings wrapped around itself. It's head was like a great spider, with jeweled eyes each a different color. The grey and black fur of the thing shifted lightly in the breeze of the city. Atop the spider-like head were two appendages. They were like horns, except they seemed to be similar to the first segment of an insect's legs, with clawed hooks at the ends.

Deriaz: *His eyes went wide, and the memory of the shrieking resurfaced. He began to struggle to break out of the spell. 'Get away,' his mind was screaming at him. He stared up at the creature. . . Mekari. . . He didn't know anymore.* What do you want? And who put this spell on me? I don't know many people who can do this, and I'm not sorry to say-- I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have the talent to do it.

Mekari: *the creature reached up and pulled at something... it began to stretch its neck...no...it was taking its head off? He saw now that the head was actually some strange helm made from the carcass of a spider. Beneath this, he saw a beautiful blonde haired woman of astonishing lovelyness, radience, and uncanny grace - it was almost unnaturally so. He realized that the strange shimmery 'wings' were actually some sort of odd cloak she had wrapped about her*

Deriaz: *His eyes flew from the helm, to the hair, to the cloak, trying to take it all in.* I. . . But. . . *He had no idea what to say.* But. . . You. . . You were. . . And the spider. . . Head? Wings. . . Cloak? But. . . *He stopped himself, realizing that by sputtering, he was sounding like an idiot.* Why the disguise?

Mekari: That is not your concern. I felt it was necessary for you to realize that you are in over your head. What is important is that now it seems there is somewhat of a bounty on my head? So I wanted you to see this. To know that it would behoove you to let the past remain the past. . . because if you don't. . . I will ensure that you never see this world again. . . and your counterpart will have ultimate control. Know that I will hold the balance of your existance in my hands, and should you act in a way that does not please me, I will know. And I will see to it that your body is the permanent house soley of your fine friend. Now if you would be so kind as to permit Ragyr to speak with me again

Deriaz: I. . . *The words she had just said were sinking in. Not wanting to lose his own body to the madman inside him, he had no choice but to agree.* Yeah. . . Yeah, sure. . . *His eyes went colorless again. The metal became black, the legs and arms extended slightly, and the red eyes flashed on.*

Ragyr: *Ragyr eyed Mekari.* Well, you look a little different since I last saw you. . .

Mekari: Indeed. I wanted to show you something. You see, it seems I've been painted out as some sort of... how shall I say... monster. As you can clearly see, this is obviously a misconception. I understand that there is a price on my head, and I believe that it is part of this misunderstanding. But what I wanted you to see, is that it is actually within your interests not to kill me. Do you know why?

Ragyr: Can't say that I do. Humor me.

Mekari: Well, first go ahead and stretch out on the ground. As I said, it is something that is hard to explain. More of a visual element.

Ragyr: *He flexed his hand quickly, to see if the stunning effect of that song had lingered. When he noticed it had left, he followed her intructions, and stretched out.*

Mekari: Now pay very close attention to what I am going to say. Stay there please. *and she backed up a distance from him* I am going to cast some magic on you again that will help to illustrate this, are you ready?

Ragyr: *He nodded.* Go ahead.

*he felt something wash over him and he found he was again powerless to move. But something had changed. He realized with startling quickness that Mekari was NOT his friend*

Ragyr: *He growled again. A third time tonight he was unable to move.* What's the big idea!? *He found himself, again, struggling to break free, though part of him knew that it was probably pointless to try.*

*then he felt pain, as if someone were stabbing him somehow, but he could see no one around him*

Mekari: I want you to know that I have just cut myself quite deeply *he heard her lick at something* and that should you find yourself itching to bring harm to me, that you will suffer my pain as well. And secondly, I want you to realize that if you EVER want to be in control of that body one day, that you had better think twice about following this job of yours. *he heard the scream again in his mind, and felt that familiar sensation of a part of him being sucked away* I want you to realize that I can strike you down without the need to be in front of you. So think hard, friend, the next time you feel the need to lift a blade towards me. Because if you kill me, you will never be free again. Do you understand? You will never find your control. Do I make myself clear? If you please me, perhaps, one day, I will find the need to hire you myself.

Ragyr: *He held back a yelp of pain from the cut, the screaming, and the sensation. Over his own struggling, he heard her say something about not lifting a blade.* No. . . Can do. . . I've got a job. . . And I always follow through.

Mekari: I want you to know that I will be the keeper of your precious gem. If you ever want to see it again, it would be ill advised to kill me. *and now he felt as if many things were bombarding him at once. The screaming ... a new type of pain rang in his ears... it was all one could do to focus on staying conscious*

Ragyr: *A small growl of pain came out of him, as he held the rest in. He managed to speak through his heavy breaths.* If you. . . Really want to take it. . . Why don't you fight me fairly? *His mind began to race at the idea of being so close to ruling his body completely, only to have this Mekari take it away without, what he thought, a fair fight.*

Mekari: Oh Ragyr... do I look like the sort of person who cares for the fairness of the world? I appeared to you as a spider by the name of all gods *she scawfed*

Ragyr: *His peripheral vision began to black out. 'No, no, NO!' he continued to scream in his mind, but he began to realize the situation was too one-sided for him to be able to do anything about it.*

Mekari: Remember this moment. Remember that my death means this is the end for you. *and the assault on him continued until he was no longer conscious*

Ragyr: *He struggled once more to gain control, but couldn't break out of it. The screaming and the pain continued until he blacked out.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn IV "Changes of Cloths" Chapter 4

--------------TRANSCRIPT---------------------------
*He felt something hard pressing against his face, and in truth the rest of him as well. Whatever it was was on top of him, and solid as stone, but had no real weight to it.*
*He ignored it for a second, but curiousity got the better of him. His right eye slowly came to life, revealing a dim orange.*
*It was some sort of hard flat thing...the light of his eyes reflected off it giving it a soft glow. Sound game to his ears...he was outside. And he regained a sense of orientation now... he was lying on his face*
Deriaz: *He blinked once or twice, and propped himself up on his hands and knees, shaking his head. He felt like he had been hit by a lightning bolt the night before, but he couldn't remember what. Deriaz shook his head again, and stood up, looking around to see if he was still in the Harbor or not.*
*he realized that he was not on the ground, but on the roof of a building in the warehouse district, and he was badly hurt. It was a wonder that he could stand at all. Oil was everywhere.*
Deriaz: *He stared at the oil on the roof.* What the hell did he do last night? Try to get me killed? *He coughed once, and looked around trying to figure out which direction was to the Fellowship guild hall to find Uxor, and tried to find a way down from the roof.*
*he could clamber down with difficulty, and he realized it was a long walk to the fellowship guild hall from where he was*
Deriaz: *He wondered if the Phoenix Tavern was closer. He didn't want to see Varro as badly, but if he was closer, it would have to do. Varro would know where to find her, he hoped. If nothing else, he could head down to the harbor beach and stay there, fixing himself as best he could until he could move easily.*
*coming into focus he realized it was barely dawn*
Deriaz: *He looked at the sky for a moment. 'If it's only dawn. . .' he thought, 'maybe the Fellowship wouldn't be too far out of the way to get to. . .' Either way, he began to slowly make his way towards the guild hall.*
*the city was quiet. Dawn was the time when the fewest folk could be seen out in the city, save that of the few guards on patrol in the more upscale districts. A few of them threw him a suspicious glance as he crept towards the Fellowships Guildhall*
Deriaz: *He shot the glances back at the guards as he continued to the Guild Hall. He leaned a shoulder on the door, waiting a moment to catch his breath before he wanted to entered. He looked down at the ground, noticing he had left a faint oil trail. Under normal circumstances, he would have cursed himself, but he was in too much pain to care.*
*he found that the door was locked.*
Deriaz: ******. . . *He elbowed the door, and instantly wished he hadn't. He cursed at the new pain in his elbow along with the pain he already had. 'If she isn't here. . .' he thought to himself. The room at the Rusty Nail came back to him, where they met before sneaking into House D. It was worth a shot, he figured. He began to make his way slowly over to the Rusty Nail.*
*There were one or two patrons downstairs, who seemed to pay him no notice as he ambled in off the street seeming as if he'd been beaten to high hell. People just didn't seem to have the same concerns for warforged as they might for an elf or human. But at least there were none of the immediate animosity one received being a drow. No one stopped him as he made his way for the room*
Deriaz: *He walked up to the door slowly, leaning on it again as he did the Fellowship Guild Hall door to catch his breath. After a moment, he knocked loudly on it twice. As he was waiting for an answer, he began to push a little more weight on the door, as he felt his legs begin to give out.*
*the door started to open, but if he had his weight against it, he found he almost fell through, and Uxor was behind the door, seeming to have had the intention to edge the door open slowly to peer out*
Deriaz: *He caught himself as the door frame as he almost fell in, and looked up at Uxor.* Mind if I. . . Come in? *He grinned, and tried to look casual, though it didn't take much to realize he was in pain.*
Uxor: *She seemed absolutely beside herself with shock. First off, that he was injured. Second off, that his eyes were orange. She immediately began to help him inside and look him over. She brought him over to the bed and had him stretch out if he was willing. She still seemed hesitant about something*
Deriaz: *He shook his head, and hobbled over to the near wall, leaning his back against it and sliding down to a seated position on the floor.* Oil. . . I don't want to get it. . . All over the bed. . . *He shook his head, and watched her carefully.* What? Not used to seeing me. . . Covered in my own oil?
Uxor: *she rooted through her belongings for something useful for him. She hissed slightly - only healing potions. Nothing to repair him with. But they would be better than nothing for the moment. She quickly scrawled out a note as she tended to him, offering him some of the potion* "I will get oil" *as a force of habit, she quickly scrawled out the symbol and then on another small scrap of paper, the word 'fire' though she felt stupid for doing it now while he was in need*
Deriaz: *He looked at the symbol, and did his symbol in return. The right eye blinked, then the left, and then the right again, though it didn't seem to come on as brightly as it had before. He took the potion, and ended up chugging it in one whole swallow. It didn't seem to help much, but slowed the oil a little.*
Uxor: *she frowned and wrote* "stay here, I'll be right back" *and she hurried downstairs to retrieve some oil for him*
Deriaz: *He nodded, and grinned again, trying to look casual. When she left the room, he coughed again. He frowned as he thought he felt oil come up with it, though none came out.*
Uxor: *she was not gone long. He heard the door open again as she went to his side and set down several bottles of oil. She had no idea how much he might need, he seemed pretty badly hurt.*
Deriaz: *He nodded again.* Thanks. . . I owe you one. . . *He took one of the bottles, popping it open and chugging it in one swallow as well. He set the empty bottle down, and looked up at her.* So. . . What happened last night? Cause, maybe it's just me, but I think I missed something. *He laughed.*
Uxor: *she frowned and wrote* "Is it...you...or...the other you I'm talking to? I think I know which you..." *and she scratched it out after she wrote it, realizing how stupid it seemed on paper. Instead she wrote* "I was going to ask you the same thing. What happened to you?"
Deriaz: *His eyes fell to the floor.* I don't know myself. I remember pieces here and there, but I didn't get the whole picture. . . . I remember. . . I remember you and I in this room, and you said you were asking him to kill Mekari. . . And then. . . Then I was looking at Mekari, outside. . . Somewhere. It's like the middle part was left out. . .*His eyes went wide.* Mekari. *He looked up at Uxor.* Mekari is that creature. But it's not a creature. The spider. Head. Wings. Cloak. I. . . *He trailed off, realizing he was speaking too fast for her to probably understand.*
Uxor: "You were going to ask me to promise you something...before he regained control" *she blinked at him dumbfounded by that string of reply*
Deriaz: Promise? . . . I. . . Don't remember it. I. . . I remember saying it, but as for waht I was going to say. . . *He shook it off.* Anyway. Mekari. She's that creature that I explained to you, when I stole those pages from House Deneith in the first night. The spider head is a helmet, though, and the things that I thought were wings, or whatever, was a cloak. She was normal beneath all that. She was blonde and beautiful. I mean, I don't know if it was a fake form or not, but. . . I mean, it threw me off.
Uxor: *she wrinkled her brows* "how is she able to look like a drow? A spider helm is one thing but... she REALLY looks like a drow"
Deriaz: I don't know either. I just know that that creature and her are the same thing. . . *As he thought about it, the memory of last night became more clear. After a moment, his eyes went wide again.* She said to stop, also. Stop looking into her past. . . Or else. . . .Or else she'd 'make sure I never saw this world again'. She'd put Ragyr in control. . .
Uxor: *Uxor slumped down on the floor next to him at that news. She seemed to visibly shake from that information. After a moment she wrote* "It's my fault. I am sorry Deriaz. I shouldn't have brought you into this. I'm so very sorry" *she looked at him, then at the pouch on his side and her lip quivered a little* "she took it then?"
Deriaz: *He laughed as she was writing the second message.* Don't worry. I'm two for two for getting out of trouble. And I CHOSE to help you. Keep that in mind. *He read the second message, and his eyes went wide again. A hand shot down to the pouch, digging into it.* . . . She must have. It's not here, and I don't hold it anywhere else. . . .
*within the pouch he felt a little slip of paper crinkle*
Deriaz: Wait. . . Wha--? *He grabbed the paper and pulled it out, unfolding it quickly.*
*there were strange symbols written on the paper in a delicate curling sort of script*
Deriaz: *He stared at the symbols, turning the paper in different directions trying to read it. Eventually, he gave up.* Uxor, any idea what this says? *He handed her the paper while picking up another bottle of oil, chugging it.*
Uxor: *she held it and stared at it for a long time before writing beneath it* "remember" *then she handed it back to him*
Deriaz: *He looked at the translated word and sighed. He folded the paper back up, and began to rip it into tiny pieces.* So, it's gone. . . That means I'm sticking with you until the end in your search for who Mekari really is. Both of us have a reason to go after her, now. . . Unless you're considering quitting after you saw how I walked in. . .?
Uxor: *she seemed to be weighing something in her mind. She would start to write, then stop. Then start again, and stop. A range of expressions passed over her face through this process. She thrust the parchment aside, and slapped the writing stick down on the ground in frustration, holding her head in her hands*
Deriaz: *He watched her throw the writing stick to the ground, and stared at her as she held her head in her hands. Eventually, he poked her with his elbow.* Hey, cheer up. What's bugging you this badly? Write it down, even if it sounds stupid. Trust me, better to say it than hold it. *He picked up the writing stick, and held it out to her.*
Uxor: *she smoothed her hair back out of her face, breathing a heavy sigh out through her nose. She held his hand a moment as he offered her the writing stick, and despite her deeply furrowed brows, she offered him a small half smile. Then she grew more serious as she started to write on the paper diligently* "I am angry with myself. I can't say I'm not glad to have you here with me again... but it was wrong of me to send Ragyr to face her like that. I underestimated her. A lot. I know he's a little more bold than you but I should have known better. You say Mekari is the creature...then I bet she has followed us all of that night. Hell, walking walls, she might have been listening in through the window. And now, she has you for her own personal ransom. What's more, I don't know if it's better to leave the matter be, or to persist....and I feel guilty on all accounts now. I know you CHOSE to help, but it was my choice to stay with you while you regained your 'self'... but thanks to me, Mekari has the balance of your state of affairs. I told Ragyr that I could not change who you were... that you accept the wolf knowing what comes with it... that is true. I believe that. But thanks to me the wolf is skinned and collared by a spider. And now here you are, as the you that I knew you to be. And I am afraid you will hate me. For the things I've asked. For my unwillingness to 'change you back' when Ragyr took over. For the deal I signed with him. And for the danger I've put you in. I know that all actions have Karma...and we are supposed to accept the reaction of our actions...
Deriaz: *He grinned.* How could I hate you? *and continued to read*
"... but I am afraid this time. I am afraid of my Karma for what I've put you through."
Uxor: *she wiped off the paper with her hand, as some tears struck the page while she had her head down trying to write. She pushed the paper towards him trying to regain her composure*
Deriaz: *He put the paper down, adn put a hand on her shoulder.* How can I hate you? We're only doing what we have to to find out Mekari's secret. Sure, I may have gotten beaten up once or twice during this whole event, or you may have had to side with a madman to progress, but if those are the only options, so be it. Mekari doesn't have control over me, don't worry about that. But I couldn't hate you for it. I mean. . . *He trailed off for a moment, trying to fit together what he was going to say.*
Uxor: *she wept openly when he touched her shoulder, shaking her head, and pointing her finger over and over again at a line on one of the papers that said "I am sorry"*
Deriaz: *He shook his head.* Forget about it. Nothing bad has happened. There's nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all. *He grabbed a third bottle, and turned away to chug it. He set the empty bottle down, and turned to her again.*
Uxor: *she wiped at her eyes, looking at the floor and choking little breaths between raspy sobs. She tried to get herself to a point to be able to write more, but it was difficult to see, and the only thing she really felt like writing over and over again she'd already been adamently pointing at. She finally ran one of her fingers through the oil on the floor, picked up the little scraps of paper he'd torn up and held it up to him as if to say 'nothing bad hm?'*
Deriaz: Nothing I care to 'remember'. *He grinned, and then coughed once more.*
Uxor: *she tried to smile, and then hearing him cough, she wrote* "more oil?"
Deriaz: *He held up a hand and shook his head.* No, I'll be fine. Thanks, though.
Uxor: *she tried to calm some, writing more* "What about Ragyr? What happens the next time you're in a situation where he feels the need to 'help' you? Or if you run into Mekari again? I doubt very much Ragyr's opinion of our course of action involves anything other than tracking her down and killing her"
Deriaz: I'm sure that's exactly what he wants to do. . . But if the gem is gone, we go back to the record room situation. If I become overloaded or extremely nervous again, he can take over until I've become calm again. And I'm sure if I run into Mekari, he'll be screaming to take over, though I won't let him.
Uxor: *she nodded in understanding* "He's probably angry with me undoubtedly. If I hadn't given him that 'job' . . . " *she stopped writing and sighed*
Deriaz: *He laughed under his breath.* You know, that's probably not a bad thing that you gave it to him. It's probably put his ego in check, however little it may now be.
Uxor: "If I would have known that this is what would have happened, I would not have asked such a thing of him. I wouldn't wish facing Mekari on my worst enemy. I wouldn't wish it on Mekari to see Mekari and suffer under her. I know before he apparently couldn't see when you 'trade places' but if he's able to see through your eyes now... I want him to know I am sorry that this happened. Even if it did result in you being here again... I was willing to accept who you both were. I had hoped an ambush would alleviate the need to be subject to her abilities, whatever those are"
Deriaz: *He was silent for a minute, picking up the final bottle of oil and finishing it off easily. He set the empty bottle on the group.* Well. . . *He paused.* What now? I mean, I don't have a lot to say about Mekari in the night's events. . . And you, I would hope, weren't there to see anything next. . . What do we do next?
Uxor: *she frowned at him* "YOU rest! You've been gone for two days!"
Deriaz: *He stopped.* Two days? I thought I was only out for the night. . .
Uxor: *she shook her head* "I just waited. Seeing how Ragyr was, I didn't expect that he'd appriciate me coming to him"
Deriaz: I may have been gone for two days. . . *He sighed.* But I can't see myself doing nothing while you go out searching about Mekari, risking her attacking you.
Uxor: "You wont have to. I will stay here so you can rest, but you can also be sure that I am safe in turn. It will give me time to think on a course of action." *she reached into her belongings and pulled out a few slips of paper, writing on her current page* "we still have these papers we can look over from our previous research"
Deriaz: Have you noticed anything new from them? I would assume if I was gone for two days, you may have had a chance to glance at them.
Uxor: "It is funny, but no. That is until thinking about it now, knowing what you said. You say she is certainly able to alter here appearence. Now that we have concrete evidence...perhaps she never left the Silver Stalkers at all" *she pointed at the list of names she'd compiled from the research* "after that 'incident' they had some replacement members. So perhaps she was still among them. Perhaps House Deneith may even know this, and they don't record it in the books on purpose."
Deriaz: *he leaned back* Just don't go anywhere without me, alright? See what you can piece together while I'm on the mend. *and his eyes went dim*

*Deriaz awoke to find himself on his back on the ground. He covered his face with his hands, and still felt a slight pain in him from the injuries he had gotten. After a moment, he sat up and scanned the room.*
*he saw Uxor seated at a chair at the writing desk with paperwork spread out in front of her. She turned around as he sat up and smiled at him*
Deriaz: What are you up to? *He stood up and stretched, and shuffled over to the desk.*
Uxor: *she leaned back so he could see the papers. There were the pages of notes she'd written from the records room, and many different notes squiggled and arrows drawn. She took out a fresh page and wrote* "Just trying to make sense of what we know. Though there was something I wanted to ask you, if you'll humor me"
Deriaz: Sure, I'll humor you. *He grinned.* Ask away.
Uxor: "The wizard...the one who gave you your memory. How did he get a hold of it? And where had it been do you suppose?"
Deriaz: You know, it's funny. I asked him those same things. *He paused for a moment.* When I asked how he got a hold of it, he said "You could say you and I are old friends." When I asked where it had been, he seemed to dodge the question. I tried asking him again, but he kept avoiding it, so I left it alone. Why do you ask?
Uxor: "I guess I just don't understand . . . why give it to you now? Undoubtedly he knew the results of doing so"
Deriaz: I can't give you a straight answer there. He kept beating around the bush for anything I asked. It was kind of odd, actually. . .
Uxor: *she tapped her writing stick on her lip, writing* "Perhaps our focus is wrong right now. While we do need to uncover the true story on Mekari... I think it might be important for us to try and learn more about your wizard friend and the situation that got you to the harbor. Because if Mekari has your memory now, there could be folk out there willing to try and buy it from her. I couldn't say with confidence if she would go to such trouble."
Deriaz: *He shook his head.* So, anything new while I was asleep? Or has the puzzle come to a standstill?
Uxor: *she pulled out a page* "I think if Mekari were one of the other silver stalkers, I think she was this one" *she pulled out the profile on one named Elana*
Deriaz: The Wizard? . . . Well. . . I don't know how much help he could be. I don't know where he is, now.
Uxor: "I don't think that needs to be our concern. In the same way that we haven't just walked up to Mekari to ask her direct questions, I think we need to try and research about this wizard in a way other than from his own mouth. From the sounds of it... someone had Ragyr disabled on purpose. If that were the case, why would the one who did that be interested all of a sudden in seeing that he was re-enabled?"
Deriaz: *He shrugged.* Again, I can't give you a straight answer there. Though. . . The Wizard DID look kind of surprised to see me, now that I think about it. And when I asked about it, he gave it to me willingly. If he was surprised, though, maybe there was no interest, and it was just chance. . .? *He shook his head.* But. . . Where do we start if we look into this? I don't know of any leads that would be beneficial to us.
Uxor: *she stopped for a minute, writing* "When you put the gem in, and then when he let you switch back. . . you had an awareness of who you were. Who you were before we met. Do you still have that awareness, or is it gone since the gem was re-removed?"
Deriaz: *He stared off for a second, and then sighed, shaking his head.* No. . . It's blank again. Once again, the farthest back I can remember is the harbor and waking up.
Uxor: "I suppose we should start with this. Your answer to this question determines how deeply we search. I want you to be honest. If I told you that I could enlighten you on your previous path in life...would you really want me to tell you?"
Deriaz: *He nodded as soon as he read the message, barely thinking twice about it.* Of course.
Uxor: "Alright. I will tell you because you ask. Because if it were me, I would do the same." *she paused for a moment trying to think of how best to put it* "I believe you were an assassin Deriaz. Not just Ragyr. Both of you."
Deriaz: *He read the note over multiple times, and was speechless. Eventually, he laughed.* Alright, alright. Seriously, now, what was I really?
Uxor: *she looked at him with remorseful eyes. It was the truth. She pushed the little paper towards him again*
Deriaz: *He shook his head.* No. No, that can't be right. *He laughed, as if trying to play the idea off as a joke. In the back of his mind, it felt as if someone gave a quick laugh.* Me? An assassin? I'm finding that hard to believe. . . *He trailed off as his mind tried to wrestle with the idea.*
Uxor: *she frowned and wrote* "I'm sorry. You asked me to tell you, so I am. I can think of no other way to explain it. Deriaz, Ragyr asked me for 40,000 to kill Mekari initially. Then reduced that to me providing I could grant a steady supply of 'jobs.' From him, I could understand this. I could understand him having this occupation. But he requires your skills as well, or so he says.... he could very well have lied to me when he said that you had your own ways of getting 'jobs' done. That he prefered his. And he wasn't talking about talking your way out of it. He was talking about killing."
Deriaz: *He slumped to the ground.* I. . . I. . . *He grabbed his head in frustration, and took a few deep breaths.* Alright. Alright. So let's say I AM a killer. . . Did he say anything else? Anything specific? Anything out of the ordinary?
Uxor: *she wrote something and came over to sit beside him, passing him the note* "That this was a steady job for the two of you. He didn't say who the past employers were. . . but from the sounds of it, you were needed for the more stealthy arts. His specialty is in combat. Yours was in speech and word play it sounds like."
Deriaz: *He crossed his arms on his knees and buried his face in them, though his eyes peeked between them, illuminating the ground beneath them. He shook his head, and as he blinked, the orange on the floor would flicker on and off. A few times, though it was incredibly fast, there seemed to be a hint of red in the orange. He also shook very slightly, as if fighting himself. Eventually, he lifted his head.* Alright. Alright. . . Where do we start looking, then?
Uxor: *she put a hand on his shoulder a moment, and wrote* "are you alright? Don't tell me yes. I can plainly see otherwise. I'm just asking the specifics"
Deriaz: *He sighed.* I'll be fine, yeah. Just. . . Just having a little bit of an argument right now. Surprisingly, I had someone to scream back at. . . *He grinned.* . . . He seems to like the idea of me now knowing who I am. He's also hoping it will 'go back to the old ways'. He wouldn't explain though. . .
Uxor: "I think he means you taking 'jobs.'" *after a moment she stop and reflected* "So he can hear you? And you can hear him?"
Deriaz: I guess. I've screamed at him before, but the only other time he's ever answered was when we were in House Deneith. I just assumed that was because he was in control. He's never answered me when I've been in control.
Uxor: "Perhaps he didn't have a reason to. In his eyes anyway." *she breathed through her nose a little* "Before we start doing anything or looking for anything, in light of this revelation, I believe we...or at least you... need to determine what you think of this prospect. Ragyr obviously wants to go back to 'that way' . . . but what do you think of this?"
Deriaz: You know what I'd really like? *He laughed.* I'd love to have him out of me, so I have something I can physically beat. . . But for now? I'm fine with continuing forward-- To get my memory. As for letting him take control? Not as much of a fan.
Uxor: "Well I assure you he probably wants to be out of you as much as you want him out. Though something tells me that face to face, he would be equally as interested in a fight with you. Unless he was bluffing, I gathered from his conversation that the two of you had an accord with your previous arrangement. That you were as apt to take 'work' as he was. Deriaz, that is a lot to stomach."
Deriaz: *He stared off for a moment, trying again to take it all in. One of his eyes became a slight red-orange for a moment, but returned to normal. He sighed.* He's not bluffing. . . *He covered his face again in frustration.* This is going to take a while to get used to. . . *he said through the mask and his hands.*
Uxor: "What are you thinking?"
Deriaz: What am I thinking? *He raised his head from the note, and stared at her.* Humor me, what do you think I'm thinking? Sorry if that came out harsh, but my mind is racing right now. . . Part of me doesn't want to believe it, but between both you and him telling me the same thing, the other part is beginning to believe it. . .
Uxor: *Uxor grimaced a little at that reply, but calmly continued to write* "Before you think too much harder on it, I wanted to tell you something that you won't probably much like. But since you are my friend, I feel it necessary to tell you"
Deriaz: *He sighed.* Feel free. As if you anything could be worse than realizing you're a killer's accomplice, and went with it willingly, no less.
Uxor: *Uxor thought that might be his reply, but she wrote none the less* "You know how I said I feared for my Karma?"
Deriaz: *He nodded.*
Uxor: "Tell me what you know of karma"
Deriaz: Uh. . . *He shrugged.* If you do good things, you get good things done back to you. If you do bad things, you get bad things back to you? Am I close?
Uxor: *she smiled a little* "Sort of."
""Karma is simply the notion that for every action, there is a reaction. All actions have an impact of some kind on the world. The more dire that impact, the worse the reaction. That is not to say that one cannot do ill in the world, merely that you have to be willing to accept the consequences, and they are sometimes consequences that are indirect"
"Ragyr, I know you can read this. It is my belief that your being confined to a life of observation, and your inability to 'rid' yourself of Deriaz is your Karma for the life you live. Deriaz, I believe that your having to cope with Ragyr being a part of your continued existance is your Karma for your acts. Neither of you will believe it I am sure... you have not experienced the world in the same way as I, therefor I cannot expect you to understand it. I can only state what I observe. Therefor, it is my advice that if you want to counterbalance what karma has delt to you both, that you need to do something to even things out. That is why folk do 'good' things. But Karma can also mean that you strive to have as little impact as possible in terms of negative and positive. Not always, but it is a goal."
"And Deriaz, if Ragyr is your karma, this does not mean that one cannot choose the path they are on. Karma does not dictate what becomes of your life. Merely the quality of it."
Deriaz: So, you're saying that Ragyr is stuck with me because of what I did in the past? *His voice seemed to drop a notch, and his eyes turned red-orange.* And if I want out of here, I have to do something 'nice?'. . . Like. . . Not take jobs? *His eyes and voice returned to normal.* Sounds kinda weird to me, but I guess I understand what you're saying. . . Kind of. . .
Uxor: *she shook her head* "That is not what I am saying. Ragyr is stuck in the prediciment of being the passenger and not the driver. That is HIS Karma. It has nothing to do with you. For you... the loss of your memory, and the knowledge that Ragyr is still a part of you is your karma. I am not saying that hence forth you both must be model citizens. Only that perhaps you be more selective about the jobs you take. It is a goal is all. Your life is yours to do with as you wish, and you could throw all I say to the wind and continue in what ever manner suited you. I just caution that whatever you chose to do will have some reaction...either now immediately... or later, at a time when you are not expecting it."
Deriaz: *He stared off for a moment.* I. . . Guess I get it. . . But is there a point in this Karma thing where you get so far down that there's no hope of getting back to normal? I mean. . . Like. . . *He trailed off.* I don't know of any other way to word that. . .
Uxor: *she smiled and shook her head* "No. Don't think of it as a cliff and a mountain. Think of it more like a scale. You put some on one side or the other. It is your choice to put which things on which side, and to add more to one or the other to balance" "the scale will go up and down in your lifetime. But the aim is for the two to even out" *she held her hands back and forth immitating*
Deriaz: *He laughed.* Something tells me it's going to take a loooong time to get back to even in our cases. . .
Uxor: "It might not be as hard as you think. But I think Ragyr definately will find the task more challenging than you. You exhibit a certain...restraint to the way you deal with the world around you. Ragyr seems, from my observation, to deal in the here and now, the heat of the moment, and emotion. He probably wouldnt care to name it that way." *she shook her head* "it is very apparent to me that you two are indeed two seperate entities. You might share the same body, but you are no more the same person than passengers aboard the same ship. If Ragyr thinks that just because you are in the forefront, that Karma won't get to him. He is wrong."
Deriaz: *He grinned.* Well, good. I don't want whatever he has coming to him to affect me as well.
Uxor: "As I said. Karma works in ways we cannot anticipate. Other than to know bad begets bad"
Deriaz: Well. . . *He seemed to breath a sigh of relief.* As long as there's that little bit of hope. . . Even after learning you're a killer. . . I guess maybe it won't be as hard to cope with as I thought. . .*He stopped, and paused for a moment.* . . . You wanted to me to be perfectly honest with wanting to know who I really am. . . .Now it's your turn to be honest with me. . . . *He turned and looked at her.*
Uxor: *she nodded and raised a brow at him to continue*
Deriaz: So. . . It's all out on the table. I'm a killer. Not just me, but there are two killers in one body. One who feels no remorse, and the other who has no idea what to think right now. . . Tell me. *He paused, letting it sink in for a moment.* You won't think of me any differently, will you? If you can't stand the idea of me having been a killer at one point in my life, tell me. I'll disappear. Just say the word.
Uxor: *she wrinkled her brows and shook her head...she couldn't quite think of the gesture that would best get across her feelings on the matter. So she inched forward and hugged him.*
Deriaz: *His eyes went wide for a second, not understanding what she was doing. He had never actually been hugged before. After a few seconds, he returned the gesture.* Well. . . I'll take that as a no.
Uxor: *after a moment, she leaned back and patted him on the shoulder, and wrote* "as I said. You are who you are, and you were who you were. And who you will be from now on is up to you. I hold you as my friend still. I could even perhaps see Ragyr as a friend - I'm certain he's crawling with irritation at that notion - but he and I are more alike than he may realize in some ways. Enough to be comrades perhaps"
Deriaz: *He laughed.* Oh, trust me, he's squirming all right.
Uxor: "If it's any consolation - I was telling the truth when I told him that i do believe killing is a part of the world that must be accepted. A wolf kills. To expect it not to is being foolish. However...to qualify... a wolf also does this for survival and not sport. The element of sport adds a different level of Karma to the matter"
Deriaz: *He laughed once.* I'm sure he's going to take that first part as an excuse to continue killing. . . I don't know if warning him about the element of sport is going to change anything. . .
Uxor: "Well we can only hope that he takes a moment to consider it. Since he is in a position to do nothing but think for the moment. It is his choice"
Deriaz: *He laughed again, and then stared off as if thinking. After a moment, he spoke.* Well. . . What do we do now? I don't know if I see how my knowing of my past is going to determine how deeply we search, or even where we start. . .
Uxor: "We may not have to. I offered that suggestion because I wanted to help. But after sitting here with you, it dawned on me that... that would be no true help. So if we do search, it is by your leave."
Deriaz: It depends on what you put as our first priority. Mekari, or me? Either way, I'll follow you.
Uxor: *she considered things for a moment* "I think Mekari may need to be dealt with from the stand point that she knows both of you"
Deriaz: Mekari it is then. *He nodded, and one of his eyes flickered red-orange.* Ragyr seems to be liking that idea as well. . .
Uxor: "Well I can only imagine he does. Something tells me he's interested in seeing that she doesn't have the ransom of the gem to hold over the two of you"
Deriaz: So, you mentioned Elena as the one that Mekari could have also been in the silver Stalkers. . . That was her name, right? Elena? What makes you think she and Mekari are the same? *He stood up, and extended a hand down to her to help her get up.*
Uxor: *she took the hand and motioned for him to follow her over to the paperwork*
Deriaz: *He followed, and stared down at all the paperwork, making sense of where the arrows went and what the squiggled notes said.*
Uxor: *she had a little time line made, and she pointed out some important areas. The time in which Mekari 'disappears', Elana joins the team. She pulled out Elana's profile. She was listed as being a bard with healing capasity*
Deriaz: *He skimmed a profile.* I thought Mekari was a 'field surgeon' though. Didn't her other profile say she had no divine way of healing? But here, it says she has healing capacity. . .
Uxor: "Healing by song. Who's to say she wasn't still doing her way of healing and just making up some music?"
Deriaz: Good point. . .Are there any other similarities? Any traits that come up, or maybe other skills she has? Or just the timeline that you discovered?
Uxor: "The time line mostly. There is one other member who joins, but the personality and background don't seem to match. There is a note on Elana's file ... the part where they mark things of importance about them... that says there was one point during a mission where one of the other casters noted an abnormal amount of healing capasity from her, despite only having the gifts of being a bard"
Deriaz: I'm not sure I'm seeing what's so important about that. . . I mean, like. . . Abnormal as in an incredible amount? Or just a very small amount above normal bards?
Uxor: *she nodded to 'incredible'* "bards are not masters of that art. They dabble, but they are not specialists like clerics, or even paladins" *she pointed to a line, then wrote* "it says here that she healed a mortally wounded comrade single handedly"
Deriaz: Single handedly? *He blinked a few times.* So, could that mean she does have some sort of divine healing? Because I don't know of anyone who could do that without a little divine help. . .
Uxor: "well, the one who reported the indicent can shed some light. It's mentioned that there was a caster among the group who used magic to enhance any existing healing she would have had. But the amount that came out of her astounded him enough that he reported it"
Deriaz: Who reported it? Maybe we could go ask him or her about the incident. . . Though. . . We may have to think up an excuse for how we actually knew of the event. . .
Uxor: *she frowned* "Well, it says their current places of occupation are in Sharn."
Deriaz: Oooook, maybe that's a bit out of the way to be investigating, then. . .
Uxor: *she nodded* "just a bit. We'd be hard pressed to go there ourselves, or send a runner, and not be needled for why we went. So perhaps we need to focus on what she IS then. If she's not a bard... not a drow... not a cleric... not a spider...what IS she?"
Deriaz: What about those. . . Uh. . . *He snapped his fingers a few times.* Quori. . . Quor. . . Yeah, those people. What about them? I remember you brought them up a while back, but never really got into detail. Are they able to shape change or anything weird like that?
Uxor: *she considered it* "I would...presume so. They are from the realm of dreams - and seeing as how dreams are, well, rather difficult to pin down sometimes, I definately could see shapechanging as a part of this. So perhaps that needs to be our search...to learn more about what comes from Quor?"
Deriaz: *He nodded.* It's worth a shot.
Uxor: *she pawed over the documents a moment, but then resigned to tapping the writing stick on the desk idly writing* "If I were someone who knew about Quor... who would I be?"
Deriaz: *He shrugged.* I don't know. . . It would have to be someone who is well travelled, I would assume. I don't know if you could just learn something like that in Stormreach.
Uxor: "unfortunately the only person even remotely familiar with Quor" *she stopped a moment, seeming to have a realization*
Deriaz: *He looked confusingly at her.* Lost your train of thought?
Uxor: *she wrote* "I just realized. . .the only person I know who knows about Quor with any sort of 'authority'... is Varro. Varro knows Mekari. So she has to be the source of his information."
Deriaz: so we ask Varro, then? But how do we ask him about Quor without looking like we're up to something?
Uxor: "We can't. If he knows Mekari as well as I think, then being questioned on her past, followed by being questioned about Quor...he will add things up too easily" *she pondered* "what about....Fred...." *she wrote the name with a cringe*
Deriaz: *He looked at the name.* Fred?
Uxor: "He is a... mind flayer. The one who lurks in the gardens of respite. I've seen him once in a while. He sells his 'skills' to folk with a desire to learn something new. It's creepy. I've never visited him personally but... I know that he could be a viable source of information"
Deriaz: Wait a second. Sells his skills? What do you mean? I don't know much about mind flayers, so you'll have to enlighten me. . .
Uxor: "Um, how can I explain this tactfully - the favorite food of a mind flayer is - the mind. They dabble with it as well. I guess you could say they like to play with their food? But Fred has seen a lot of people. Gotten to touch the talents of many folk of the city of all sorts. If we provided him a list of her abilities, he might be able to tell us what best she is"
Deriaz: He sounds like out best source of information, since we can't just ask Varro. . . Plus, I kind of want to see a 'mind flayer'. . . Would be interesting. . . *He grinned to himself.*
Uxor: "I assure you, seeing Fred would lift your spirits enough that you might never wear your mask again Der. Mind Flayers are like....walking seafood"
Deriaz: *He tugged on his mask.* Well, I think that could be debateable. . . But walking seafood? *He laughed.* Ooooh, that just makes me want to see him more.
Uxor: "Well, at least you're not a hard one to convince for this approach. Let us pay a visit to him then. Though I suggest you keep your guard up incase he decides he wants to offer us some 'free' services"
Deriaz: How would I be able to tell if he starts messing with me? I mean, if he plays with a person's mind. . .
Uxor: "Well if either of us starts to act odd. And if you see his tenticles reaching out for either of us... " *she tried to draw a little picture for him on the parchment, but it came out looking like a stick man with the head of an octapus*
Deriaz: *He laughed slightly.* Alright. So if either of us starts acting odd, or the tentacles make a move for either of us. Got it.
Uxor: *she nodded and held her hand to her face and wriggled her fingers and leaned towards him menacingly. Then she started to collect the paperwork, then pulled out another page, one he hadn't seen before, handing it to him*
Deriaz: *He laughed more, and then straightened out the sword and shield on his back. He stopped when she handed him the paper, and took it, skimming over it.* What's this?
*there were two portraits on it. One of a drow woman, the other of a warforged, and the eyes were red. The writing around the flyer said* "The House Denieth requests any information concerning the wareabouts of a Drow woman and Warforged who were seen tresspassing on private grounds with the intent of theft. They are to be considered dangerous, and should not be approached by any unarmed citizen"
Deriaz: *His eyes went wide once he realized what it was, and his left eye turned to the blood red shade again.* Oh, perfect. *Both voices came out at the same time. He shut his eyes and shook his head, and two orange eyes looked up at Uxor.* When did this start going around town?
Uxor: "Yesterday. Looks like when they were unable to resolve matters internally, that House Deneith has finally taken to seeking some outside assistance"
Deriaz: What are we going to do? *He pointed down at the mask.* Besides the red eyes, I'm pretty sure that would give me away at first glance. . .
Uxor: *she frowned* "I've been thinking about that too. Not to mention, it will seem odd for you to suddenly just not wear your mask."
Deriaz: *He grabbed the back of it with one hand, where it was tied together in a knot.* And the fact that I can't go anywhere without it. . .
Uxor: *she raised a brow at that* "You know, I always did mean to ask you why it is that you wear it?"
Deriaz: *He sighed.* Remember when you asked how many times Ragyr had taken control, and I said it was 3 times? Twice in House Deneith, and once in a bar fight with some Dwarves?
Uxor: *she nodded to that*
Deriaz: Well. . . I won't go into detail. . . I'm just going to say that the fight went a little farther than I would have liked. 6 Dwarves, 1 Warforged entered the fight. . . 2 Dwarves left. . . *He looked at the ground.* That, and the fact it was the first thing I found in Stormreach that I could really say was truly mine. . . Among other reasons. I felt I had to hide, since I had. . . Well. . . Killed 4 people, and had barely been in the city for 3 days. . . It was like. . . With the mask, I didn't have to worry about anyone recognizing me, you know? I only take it off around people I can absolutely trust. . .
Uxor: "Great. So now if you take it off, you'll be recognized. If you leave it on, you'll be recognized. If you adopt Ragyr's appearence, you'd STILL be recognized. We're going to need to find some way to change your looks" *she smiled when he said that, as she had seen him take the mask off perhaps only once. Then her smile faded a little*
Deriaz: Do you think we could play me off as someone else? Say. . . Um. . . I found the mask in the street? Cause the way they have me here, I look like Ragyr. Red eyes, black metal, and the mask. . . I've got orange eyes, and blue metal. Big difference there. So if I just say I found the mask. . .
Uxor: "and Ragyr is taller. They drew these somewhat to show scale. Perhaps. Or we could find another mask for you - say that folk were mistaking you for this warforged, and it was causing you grief, so you had to get a different...outfit?" *she tapped at one side of her face near her eye then wrote* "And Ragyr, you're going to have to lay a little low for a while anyway. One flicker of that red eye in conjunction with that mask and I don't care how tall you are, it will set people to thinking"
Deriaz: I. . . Guess I could wear a different mask. . . I would feel much safer with this on though. . . *He read the note, and one eye flickered quickly.* He agrees, though it isn't with complete satisfaction. . .
Uxor: "I didn't expect it to be. But we can't have anyone trying to take you in for a bounty. The minute you show your face, they will know. Then there will be nowhere you can hide that some hitman with a mind for some coin won't take it upon himself to bother you. As thrilling as that sounds, I'm certain House Denieth would comission someone to desintegrate you where you stood. And there is no coming back from that"
Deriaz: So, new. . . Mask? *He seemed to say that as if he had never considered it before.* Or try the story I came up with? Either way, we have to get both of us to Fred somehow. . .
Uxor: *she stared at the drawing for a moment and wrote* "Well. it is a black and white drawing. There's no indication of color really. And it's not as if this style of mask isn't worn by others around town. And then there's the color and height issue. I think if we go this route - that we just need to be prepaired for folk 'mistaking' you for the drawing, and come up with a buyable lie for why it isn't you. Ruetger can vouch for your being ...." *again she stopped writing, and she hissed again, writing* "**** it Ragyr! You walked out of my room! Where did you walk when you left here to find Mekari? Did you go downstairs???"
*The eyes switched red and the metal turn black as Deriaz willingly let Ragyr take over. His voice seemed to start in the middle of a sentence.* ". . . runt, I don't want to talk to her--- I. . . Mean. . . Um. . . What was the question again?
*Uxor circled the lines she just wrote and held it out urgently to him*
Ragyr: *He growled under his breath.* I swear, that runt. . . *He sighed.* Yeah. I went downstairs. What's the big deal?
Uxor: *she smacked her hand to her face, running it down a moment, and writing* "Was anyone down there to see you leave?? I mean ANYONE. Barkeep...drinking party....passed out drunk man in the corner...anything?"
Ragyr: I don't remember! *He shook his head.* There was. . . A group of Dwarves enjoying a round of drinks. . . The tavernkeep. . . There was a wizard or something at the bar. . . A bard and a few people were off in the corner. Private show or something. . . I'm not seeing the point here, mute. What are you getting at? All I did was walk downstairs!
Uxor: "Yes. you walked downstairs. And that means folks saw you. So they're probably going to come looking here at the inn for you very soon. If they aren't already. Not to mention, our alaby who was covering for us said we were at the rusty nail. Well there goes that cover, because so were 'you' too. Deriaz was at the rusty nail. So was the red eyed warforged. Both seen coming and going from upstairs. If they don't take you for the same person, they're going to at least thing that your 'runt' knows you and you're in league with one another. With that mask."
Ragyr: *He laughed.* Whatever, it's not my problem. Just so long as you two deal with it, and I'm not caught, I forgive you both for being so careless.
Uxor: *she squinted an eye at him* "it will be your problem when Mekari starts offering a price for that gem to the highest bidder who's willing to come forward with information to give to the House Deneith. If something like that hits the black market. . . you'll never see it again"
Ragyr: *His eyes went wide, and he growled again.* Fine. Fine. So maybe, just MAYBE, I was a little careless too. What do you want me to do about it, hm?
Uxor: "Help us think of some way around this. You're experienced at this whole...espianage thing...at least the force end of it. Killing witnesses is not going to help the matter, they've already talked and word of mouth spreads faster than plague. . . but we've got to come up with some way to keep folks minds OFF of picking you out of a crowd, and without raising the attention of the people who know Der already who would stop and ask questions themselves. It might not be within your normal protocal Ragyr, but you're going to have to put some trust in me, alright?" *she sighed and handed him the note with searching eyes for his cooperation*
Ragyr: *He crossed his arms and averted his eyes. For a moment, he remained like that, but his eyes eventually slowly moved down through the note. With a snarl, he snatched it out of her hands.* Fine. You have my cooperation, but only. . . ONLY because I don't have much control over what I can do with the runt in control.
Uxor: *she smiled a little and held her hand out. This was at least a gesture a mercenary could understand. To shake on something. She was definately not going to hug him, but they had to have some sort of.... truce for the time being*
Ragyr: *He looked at the hand in disgust, but his eyes turned red-orange for a moment. Looking as if he had no choice, he grabbed her hand reluctantly.*
Uxor: *She smiled, shaking the hand, and then she pulled out some more paper and scrawled on her knee with the other, and put the paper in his hand*
Ragyr: *He took the paper, also reluctantly, and stared at it.* What's this now? Something else to force me into doing something I would rather not?
Uxor: *the note said* "Ragyr, I will make you another deal. One that is only mine to keep. If you help us ... cooperate with us... I swear to you that until the day I cease to be in this world, that I will search for a way to get you your own bodies"
Ragyr: *He stared at it for a moment, and then shot a glance at her.* What is this? Some kind of a bluff?
Uxor: *she shook her head no, and held her hand to her chest in a salute and bowed to him*
Ragyr: *He watched her bow, and eyed her strangely.* . . . You have the wierdest customs here in Stormreach. . . *He curled his hand into a fist around the paper.* Alright, fine. You had better keep your promise, then. You have no idea how much I'd like this little proposal you've given me. Would give me a chance to finish the runt off permanently, or at least get him jailed.
Uxor: *she sighed and mouthed the word "karma"* *then she smiled a little and wrote* "See, what I mean about Karma? Settling to assist us, that is the first step towards seeing some good Karma come of things"
Ragyr: *He laughed.* Of course. Of course. Keep preaching about the Karma. Trust me, I've done more killings than you could imagine. Nothing bad has happened to me so far. . . But. . . Having the runt out of me, and being able to get him out of my life could be the good Karma you're talking about.
Uxor: *she folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. 'Nothing bad ay?' her posture said* "you don't consider playing second fiddle to 'the runt' to be a bad thing? Nor having your gem captive by a mad Quor creature bad?"
"nor being left disabled in the first place?"
"I could go on"
Ragyr: *He laughed, even louder this time.* Only minor blockades. . . *He stopped.* And don't start on being 'disabled' at the dock. *He glared at her, but grinned roguishly.* You don't even know the half of it. . .
Uxor: "Which reminds me, before we go galavanting off to find Fred. What did Mekari do to you? We need to know what to tell Fred"
Ragyr: *He held up one hand, and began counting them off on his fingers.* Froze me with a strange tune. Multiple times. Charmed me. Used some strange spell that transferred any damage she took onto me. Did some strange screaming thing to my mind. Made me feel as if she was draining something. Do I need to say any more?
Uxor: *she listend and considered these things* "the music would make sense. If she was Elana, she would have picked up a few tricks of that sort. The screaming yes... since youve both confirmed that she is the spider creature, that is what it did to Der originally. Charm could come from any number of abilities, natural or learned on her part. But the damage issue is a new thing. Did she say if it was permanent?"
Ragyr: She said to 'keep it in mind' if I wanted to harm her. So I would assume yes. . . Which reminds me. . . Is the job still on for her? I plan on finishing it through to the end if it is.
Uxor: *she considered carefully how to answer* "Due to these ... developments... there may be a change of plans. But that doesn't mean I won't have work for you still."
Ragyr: *He growled slightly.* Change of plans are never good. Means a job is closing before I can finish it. . . Though the other work is promising. . .
Uxor: "I imagine that Mekari is only part of something much bigger than we're seeing. So while there are complications in taking her out for the time being. . . more opportunities might be presenting themselves to us. So I need you to be ready. Though I suspect you're beyond that. If House Denieth's lackys come searcing for us, by all means. Kill them."
Ragyr: *His eyes seemed to light up at that idea.* Now THAT I like to hear. . .
Uxor: "I thought that might be your pleasure. Anyone who's come prowling in the night for you or Der ..or me. . . is no one interested in ambassadoring that's for sure. At this point, we're going to have to watch our backs. Is there anything else about Mekari that stands out to you Ragyr? That would be worth mentioning to Fred as far as figuring out what she is?"
Ragyr: Nothing that I can think of. . . Just what I said. . . If it's any consolation, I remember her hair color. Blonde. Other than that, I never got a good look at her to remember much more.
Uxor: "and any ideas on how it is we're going to keep folks from recognizing the two of you? You seem like the sort of person who built some notoriaty about you in the past with your frequent assignments. How did you keep your profile low key enough to move in close to targets?"
Ragyr: How did we keep it low profile? It was simple: No one cared. We would just do the job, someone would say something, but where we came from. . . *He shrugged.* It wasn't that big of a deal.
Uxor: "Well I suppose that explains the whole walking around for the world to see notion. Alright, if you were going to go incognito, how would you do it?"
Ragyr: How would I do it? I don't know. The runt was the expert at that kind of stuff. Buy him a new mask or something. *He tugged at the orange bag-like mask.* Or just do what he said, say he found it in the street.
Uxor: *she considered it a moment, then she wrote* "I think I have an idea. Deriaz was seen rather beat up. He's also spoken to the sentimental value of that mask. How...plausible do we think it would be for the 'black red eyed warforged' to have come to the inn, stolen the mask, then made himself visible on purpose to try and have a fall-guy *she crossed out and wrote* fall-forged? *the question seemed posed to both of them* *Then Deriaz went to get the mask back from this attacker, resulting in the beating?"
Ragyr: *He nodded.* Sounds like what would really happen if the two of us were seperate. *He laughed.* Worth a go.
Uxor: *she nodded* "Then that is our story. Deriaz, you got that? I think before we talk to Fred, we're going to need to spread word of this 'incident' among others...to further help the credibility of it"
*The metal returned to blue, and the eyes switched to red. He nodded.* Got it. Black, red-eyed Warforged stole it, I went to get it back, beat me up over it.
Deriaz: *He nodded again.* Spreading it would be a good idea.
Uxor: "The bartender can attest to seeing me tending your wounds, since I bought all the oil. I'm certain some people saw you passing through the streets before you got here with your injuries"
Deriaz: A few guards looked at me oddly, yeah. *He paused.* . . . By the way. . . You know, you didn't have to promise that. . .
Uxor: "I wanted to. You might see Ragyr as the...intruder perhaps in your mind. He might see you the same way. But considering who he is and the way he is, if he can do this for us, I would be willing to do that. Who knows, maybe he'll come around to the idea of" *she thought about it* "co-workers? Comrades is a stretch right now I think. And I'm relatively certain he's rolling with laughter that I'm a 'sucker' willing to do that for him. I know the minute I did it, he'd probably put a knife in my back. But sometimes you just have to free the wolf from the trap, and trust that it will be happier for being free that it will forego the idea of attacking you. And it deserves to be free. No one should be a slave to a situation against their will. Even him."
Deriaz: Well. . . I have to say. . . If you could do that for us? I'd be in your debt. *He grinned.*
Uxor: *she nodded* "Before we start spreading this, I need to make a stop. Make the story more known. Meet me at the guild hall this afternoon?
Deriaz: *He nodded* This afternoon. I'll see if I can't talk up this mask theft.
Uxor: *she nodded and smiled, and patted him on the shoulder before gathering her papers together quickly. She had to get out of here. Many things had come to her awareness now, and keeping an emotionless face was nearing the realms of impossibility. Once she was clear of Deriaz, all her concentration went into her new persuit, which had been consuming her thoughts*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn IV "Changes of Cloths" Chapter 5

*Hurt and confusion were painted all over Uxor’s face as she stalked around town seeking Varro. At this point, she didn’t care who saw, but she also didn’t stop to answer questions. Being an ambassador only made it worse, for people were inclined to look at her as she went. But all that mattered now was finding Varro – and for entirely different reasons than the day before. Her first stop was his home. When she didn’t get an answer, she let herself in. She stalked about until she heard the sounds of slumber coming from his bedchamber. The notion that he might not be decent barely registered as she thrust the door open; the anger she felt was enough to ignore anything that stood between her and telling Varro off. Immediately she went straight to his bedside, where she found him resting soundly. With a rigid finger, she prodded him squarely on the forehead until he forced his eyes open*

Varro: Woman, you have no concept of privacy or hangovers, do you? *he looked her over and pulled his sheets a little more securely round himself* Good morning Uxor. To what do I owe this unannounced visit? If you’ll give me a moment to...

*She’d already scrawled a note apparently, as she flicked the folded paper at him and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him*

Varro: I will take that to mean it’s of some urgency *reading the note*

“How dare you! Are you completely insane??? Why did you go to Mekari??? That is the LAST person who needed to know about Deriaz’s trouble! What if she tells someone about Ragyr? What if she ransoms that information? And he’s lucky to have made it to me alive! He was practically dead on. . .”

*Varro stopped reading and pulled the sheets to wrap round him as he stood up*

Varro: Look, first off... *she uncrossed her arms and shoved him, whereat he fell back onto the bed*

Varro: Nice. Very civilized of you. *he stared at the ceiling on his back a moment before continuing to read the remainder of the note*

“. . . he was practically dead on my threshold!! I came to you because I felt I could put my faith in you. I was wrong? For your information now Mekari has that stone, and who knows what she plans on doing with it! You’re going to tell me something right now Varro – who is Mekari? Hell, who are you really?”

*He slapped the paper down on the bed and sat up*

Varro: Is that so? Did it ever occur to you that there might be a good reason for me to not tell you? Or how about this – all things considered, wounded or not, you have Deriaz back, am I right?

*She held a stiff arm out and motioned for the paper, which he tossed onto the bed. He slid off the bed past her as she furiously penned out more on the parchment. He paced slowly, securing the sheets with his hand, and stretching, until she stormed round to face him and press the revised note into his chest, which he took with a gnarled nose*

Varro: No need for hostility

“Don’t act like you’re doing me any favors by having done it that way, or that you shouldn’t have to tell me. Do you know how much I’ve had to cover for you? All the times I stuck up for you with the others when your honor is called into question... *he stopped reading*

Varro: I don’t need this. You asked me to help, and I did! And you have a lot of gall barging in here with your inquisition. For all you knew, I could have been in here ‘entertaining’ company. Lots of it...

*Something about his words flared her temper. Maybe it was the stress... or maybe it was the notion of him frolicking about town disgracing the memory of Endaria. Perhaps mostly, it was the audacity of him to act as if he’d done nothing wrong. Her free hand whipped across his face so firmly, it turned his head*

*Varro closed his eyes slowly and grinned. Still with his head turned from the force of her slap, he brought his forearm up to wipe some blood from his mouth*

Varro: You know, I haven’t had a woman hit me like that since my late wife...thank you for the refresher. It’s funny, sometimes I forget that you’re such a strong arm. Tell you what *he turned to look at her* What’s say we talk some more, while we’re on the subject of who’s defending whom? What if I told you I already KNEW about you and the warforged spying on Mekari. Or the fact that you’re the ones who busted into Denieth looking for information on her. Or that I or Mekari could already have turned you in, if that is what I wanted. Or that I could have told the others about you following Mekari on the roof, hm? How about those things!? I could have ratted you out, but I didn’t because I knew you were just snooping on her that night, following her to find out if she posed a threat. Very respectable of you by the way, prowling after a lady in the dark. *He pressed the note back at her for her rebuttal to that bit of enlightenment. Indeed she wrote, but as soon as she saw the sentence on the page, she knew it was a mistake to have written it. She was just so upset with him.* “Not her, YOU! I WAS FOLLOWING YOU!”

*She tried to stash the note back, but he was very quick, and had plucked the page from her*

Varro: No no, by all means, we may as well be completely open now about *he got quiet as he eyed the words. Then his gaze fell on her, and his face flushed with color. She was someone who did not feel the bite of cold due to her race, but his look and words froze her solid. He was livid with abhorrent betrayal.*

Varro: Get out. Now.

*It had been a mistake to write it that way, and she tried to go for a new paper to write on and explain herself. He seized both her wrists with a free hand, pinning them to her lap, and she helplessly shrank down beneath him as he towered over her. His presence seemed to fill the room. More than anything she felt it was because she knew what she’d done, and her mind was only making it so, but she was petrified with guilt and fear of the look he was giving her.*

Varro: No. No talking. I want you gone!

*In the course of her time in Stormreach, she had seen many terrible foes and threats...viciously plated monsters with unholy instruments of terror. Now she found herself quaking before this man, who was unarmed, naked save for a bedsheet, and who had no weapon except the words that sliced into her. He forced her back, steering her with her two wrists held in his grasp. His knuckles were white as he clenched the sheet with his other hand, and the two awkwardly crossed the room in this manner. He forced out malevolent talk past biting teeth as he enunciated his points at her*

Varro: Know that if you ever try to come here again, you’re going to need a lock-pick. My door is closed to you. Now, either through my front door or out my window, I don’t care how you do it, but GET OUT.

*He gave another shove of her wrists and released her, going for his door and pulling it open. She tried once more for paper to write, and he yanked her writing stick from her hand, and hurled it out the door* LEAVE!

*She pleaded inaudibly with her lips, but his wrath was terrible enough to cause her to back out of the door. The moment the last part of her figure cleared the doorway, he slammed the door shut on her. She felt around on the ground through teary eyes for her writing stick. This was not what she had wanted. Why had she gotten so mad at him so quickly? To think the night before, all she could think of was his safety. Today, all she could think of was shaking the truth out of him. This was the result. She sat in the street outside Varro’s home, lost as to what to do now or where to go. So blindly she struck out for the Fellowship’s keep. Really she had no idea what she would do there. Some part of her spoke with a voice of reason – “You need to talk to Hope. This has gotten too far. You can’t talk to Der. You can’t talk to Sho. You’ve lost Varro now too. This has to stop. Enough lies Uxor. Own up to your actions.” These things she wrestled with in her mind as she drew closer to the place. She was undecided still when she saw Sho standing on the doorstep. Quickly she wiped her eyes and tried to hide the fact that she’d been crying, and braced herself for the next wave of complications.... for she had heard that Sho had the ability to know the truth of what one said. Now it seemed that would be put to the test. Uxor knew nothing she could do accept walk into the gathering of guild members, and pray to whatever forces were out there, that somehow this would get better*

[Robi3.0]

An elf sat in the middle of a dimly lit room playing a soft melody on a very antique lute. The song spoke volumes of sadness at only added to the depths of sorrow that could be found in his eyes.

The elf ended his melancholy tune just as the door of the room burst open. Though it emerged a large form fallowed by a slender one. The larger from was holding a bundle of something that the elves keen eyes couldn’t place. The elf quickly stood and whispered a command word; the lit the room with magical light. Falas couldn’t withhold his smile when he saw that the larger being was Grimlore and more importantly he was glad to see Belbe. The sight for the Drow sorceress always had him smiling; the fact was the only thing keeping him from professing his love to her was her more often then not shady business dealings and the company she kept. Falas considered himself an elf with a good heart even if the means he use to accomplish his deeds didn’t always fallow the letter of the law to a T. Belbe and her friends on the other hand did anything and everything as long as the price was right. That was the thing that drove Falas crazy about Belbe, her lack of moral compass.

Falas’ smile quickly turned to a frown as Grimlore place his bundle on the floor and it proceeded to groan; Grimlore pulled the cloth covering it away to reveal a very badly burned and very possible half dead dwarf. Belbe stepped between the grizzle package and Falas and said, “We have a problem.” Falas eyed Belbe suspiciously. “This problem you have wouldn’t have anything to do with the headless Coinlord and his entourage the city guard found a little less than an hour ago? They say it was an assassination.” Belbe looked away not wanting her eyes to reveal the truth, for Falas that one gesture was all he needed to see. He slumped over the prone dwarf and went to work. He looked up only once and said, “Never mind I don’t want to know.”

It wasn’t until late into the evenly or early into the morning that Falas had gotten the dwarf stable. Grimlore had long since gone to sleep in the corner of Falas’ one room shack. Belbe on the other hand had stayed awake the whole night helping Falas as much as she could, but mostly just sat there and looked worried.

Eventually Belbe fell asleep leaning her head against Falas’ shoulder as he sat watching the dwarf’s recovery. Kirshank had of course arrived at is house earlier that night and he been setting next to the door ever since apparently keeping guard though he was fast asleep. Falas scanned the room and his companions and wondered to himself way he couldn’t despite his best efforts distances himself form these miscreants. “Love is a fickle master” he thought to himself. He than began to whistle his sad tune to himself again.

The sun broke through the morning sky just as Belbe and her companions made their final preparations for leaving. Despite all of Falas’ hard work Beador was still not healthy enough to travel, so Falas had agreed to keep him safe until he was well. Kirshank and Grimlore waited as Belbe went back into the house to pay Falas for his safe house services and make the final arrangements for Beador.

Belbe found Falas sitting at his wooden desk. She walked up to Falas and sat two bags of gold in front of him one right after the other. The first bag is yours as payment for the use of your house last night. The second is Beadors when he recovers. Falas glanced over his shoulder just for a second then said, “No offense but I don’t want your gold. You know you are always welcomed here no matter what it is you do or have done.” Belbe sighed, “This is the amount you agreed upon with Grimlore and I am not going to take it back it is yours.” She turned to walk away when she was stopped by the slightly choked up voice of Falas. “Did you know that the Coinlord that was assassinated was a good man? He was working on passing a law that would put some of the money we pay in taxes to the Coinlords to use feeding the homeless, building an Orphanage and other things of that nature. That law isn’t likely to pass now that he is dead. The talk around town is that his death is the greatest lost to the peasants of Stormreach since the passing Delera herself.” Belbe throat began to swell with sorrow. All that she could manage to say was, “I did not know.” She than turn around and walked slowly to the door. Just before she shut the door Belbe dropped a third bag of gold on the floor of the house; it was the whole of her earning from the job. “Falas do me a favor and use this money to start a charity in his name please.” Belbe said nothing more as she turned around and left Falas alone. Falas watched the trio through his only window until they disappeared out of sight in the fog of the early morning.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn IV "Changes of Cloths" Chapter 6

*No matter how many attempts she made, meditation was not improving her state of mind. Each time her thoughts strayed back to Hope's words. . .*

"You will go and find the entrance to confront the dragon."

*Of course, it would have to be the RED dragon's abode, Uxor thought to herself. This was Uxor's punishment however, and despite rampid fear corsing through her, Uxor knew that in order to set things right, she had to go through with it. Rather than meditating, ultimately her mind flittered about, processing several aspects of her confessions to Hope over what she'd done.
The terror of flame was among the more prevelant concerns. Fire was frightening... and in Uxor's eyes, a dragon that was more or less fire incarnate, many times larger than she, was the pinnacle of horror. To find the entrance to the dragon through the Vault of Night was the task set before her by her leader Hope, in order to atone for the deceits Uxor had participated in. What made it worse was knowing that she had to do it without the aid of Deriaz or Varro, at Hope's command. That was... if Varro would ever again come within miles of her with any kind words to say anyway.
Hope told her to give it time. Simply waiting for things to work out was not in Uxor's nature, but giving aide was not her forte either apparently... or so the recent turn of events would indicate. This brought her train of thoughts back around to another comment made by Hope*

"Perhaps you have feelings for him more than friendship?"

*That comment plagued her as frequently as the rest of her worries. Did she? Once more, she told herself that it was not conceivable. It was wrong. How could she even dream of disrespecting her late friend? Not to mention showing disrespect to Varro - as if she needed to add to that list. He was in mourning, a widower for barely any length of time. She told herself that it was just her need to protect him driving her to act this way. Irrationally. But why was she protecting him? "I protect him because Endaria would want me to," she answered to herself.*
"Or is it because I want to?" *she reluctantly heard part of her whisper. Quickly she stuffed the thought back with renewed rationalizing.*
"We're co-workers. We have to be close and watch out for each other. We've come to be good friends...at least, we were good friends.
Until I mesed up.
Why did I mess this up?
And why did I hit him like that?
I could have just punched him. You don't slap...."
*There it was again. The feeling of wrongness which kited after her confused sentiments about him.The part of her that was logical took control of her internal monologue. She was loathe to admit it, but reason was much more reliable than emotion....
"Am I thinking like this because I really DONT have feelings for him? Or just because I'm afraid it would be in bad taste?
Because of what I think, or because of what others would think?"

*So what if she was... the point was null now, with Varro having cast her out, and her off to face firey death for who only knew what amount of time. She wanted to talk to him again, but she doubted he'd read anything she she wrote, even if it was true. The memory of his expression replayed again for her mind's eye... how hurt he'd looked; enraged, but not for battle. Never had she wanted to be teh cause of that. She started to wonder what hope was going to say to him. Would things really work out? Sho had said that anyone who failed to tell of a problem would be delt with as a part of it. Would they send him away? Arrest him? Strip him of his ambassadorship? Wouldn't that be the icing on the cupcake... for her to have directly contributed to that, and for him to know it. Then there was the issue of Deriaz. Uxor had spilled everything into the open before Hope, and now Uxor wondered how Hope would approach Deriaz while she was gone. Gone to find the dragon.

Her thoughts came full circle back to the issue of her journey, and in this loop Uxor remained. . .
Fear.
Loss.
Longing.
Guilt.
Anxiety.
Then back to fear.
Amid this conflict, logic twinkled through the haze of emotion, until she arrived at a train of thought that stilled her torments.*

"I got myself into this, now the only way out is doing what must be done. Do it for Der... he's put life, limb, and sanity on the line for me. Do it for Varro. Even if I don't know how to feel or what will happen after this unfolds, I know that I want him to be safe. Even if he hates me now. This isn't the time to second guess. I was taught better than this. I know what I've done, and it's time to endure, as I was taught to do. I didn't take that vow of silence worrying about how hard or impossible life could be because of it. Adapt, and find peace..."

*Uxor meditated on a new vow*

*Whenever she felt the fear starting to take hold... she would think of Deriaz and Varro, knowing that no matter what was happening, if she stopped...if she gave into the fear... she would fail them. She did not move from her meditation until she'd thoroughly instilled this into every part of her being, even going so far as to push aside pondering her sentiments on the bard, and accepting them as facts. If she really did have stronger feelings for him, than she cared to admit even to herself, then she would see this through. For those feelings only supported the will to press on and succeed.
Satisfied by her new resolve, she set about planning how it was that she would complete her quest.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn IV "Changes of Cloths" Chapter 7

*Uxor glared down at Mekari, trying to maintain calm. Word of the disturbance at the Phoenix had ultimately reached Uxor's awareness as the evening progressed. She was a bit suspicious when she kept hearing whispers of trouble from patrons coming in and looking up at the table she sat at - Varro's table - with hushed tones. When someone asked her outright if she knew of it, she was given brief detail; detail enough to know that seeing Mekari standing down below, peering up at her with her smug smile, was a bit surprising. Did the woman know no bounds? To think she would show herself here in the Phoenix again after so openly and recently attacking someone. . .
Though Uxor did note that there were perhaps only six people total in the bar counting she and Mekari at that moment, and three of those were bartenders. She also noticed that the tenders seemed particularly 'busy' for it being so empty this eve - Mekari must have threatened them to keep quiet. This did not bode well. She kept repeating to herself to be brave for the sake of her friends, and not let the woman's presence get to her.*
<"Am I so terrible, really? How interesting."> *Uxor heard a voice in her head. A bit taken aback, her thoughts raced momentarily. There was no mistaking the tone of the thoughts, and Deriaz had recounted before that Mekari could speak directly to your mind. Uxor wasn't certain if it would work, but she thought back <"What ARE you?"> and worked to bridle her wild fear. Someone was in her head, and who knew what that someone could glean while there. She tried to focus entirely on the conversation playing out between she and Mekari in her mind.*
Mekari: <What am I? I could ask the same of you, but that would be rude. It is enough to know that you are human...esk.>
Uxor: <Well unlike you, I don't make it a point to wear disguises. If someone asked ME, I would tell them the truth> *Uxor hoped her tone was coming across as threatening and not like a frightened cornered animal, fighting only because there was no escape.*
Mekari: <Would you? Seems telling the truth for you is selective then.>
*Mekari was trying to provoke her. Uxor wasn't sure if Mekari could feel her emotions or not, so it was best perhaps to not waste time hiding reactions only to appear even weaker by doing so. That didn't mean, however, that she had to put up with the banter.*
Uxor: <Obviously you have a reason to communicate with me. Here I am. What do you want, and if this is it, then we are done.>
Mekari: <You are friends with the Minstrel, yes?>
*How to answer.... Really it was none of Mekari's business what Uxor's state of affairs was, so the reply Uxor gave was simply shaking her head yes. For her part, she would continue to think of Varro as friend, even with all the trouble.*
Mekari: <I thought so. Such a pity that your last words with him were spoken...excuse me... written in anger.> *Uxor gave no response in mind or body to that. She was waiting for Mekari to come to the point of their encounter, and she wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of insults that Mekari was obviously trying to draw out with irritating remarks.*
Mekari: <I came here because I wanted to see the look on your face when I told you I've ended his life. You seem like someone who'd be pained by his loss, thus the most entertaining to watch. It will take a moment for it to settle in, but when it does, there is no substitute for the spectacle.
Does it hurt more knowing that when he died, he considered you a traitor? Or even more to think that he's back in the arms of his wife in the beyond? I'm neither unobservant or naive, Uxor; even I can see, by the disbelief painted on your face, that your feelings for him were strong.
I can see without the need to hear it, that you doubt my words. Let me remind you that you know the sort of person I am. To my displeasure, you've been opening doors that you were told to leave closed. I can't change that you've managed to see some of what is behind those doors. Just keep in mind what you saw if you value your life, and don't wish for a reunion with Lord and Lady Velox.
Still doubting me? Well, I guess it would be unusual for me to strike down someone of my own guild - but that would be assuming that my intentions were honest in joining said guild.
The fact that he was well known in the city did not grant immunity from his past. Things have been in motion for some time now, that you've no awareness to, so it is best not to dwell on why I killed him, so much as that it was long in coming, and unavoidable ultimately.
Would it please you to know what his last thoughts were?>
*By the time Mekari had come to this point of her conversation, Uxor's mind had run the gambit of reactions, and it seemed the drow looking woman did have some inkling of what Uxor's thoughts were without the need for her to send them directly.
First came the shock and aversion to the words that Mekari was saying... dead? Not to mention the audacity of proclaiming that she would relate it for her amusement. She was bluffing. Who would come here in the open and confess such a thing? Mekari was a liar. She was, however, right on about Uxor's feelings. How did she know that? The only person she'd really confided her thoughts in was a small handful, and none of them would speak to others of it. Mekari was just trying to draw out a reaction with her account of Varro's demise, but she definitely had a way of digging where it hurt. Because of how she is. She WAS a nasty person. Anyone who would do to Deriaz what this 'thing' had was no creature of any morals. Even so, to kill Varro would bring complications. Complications that would only be a serious issue to someone who intended on staying among the fellowship...
Someone who joined the fellowship with false intent was someone who could be capable of much wrongdoing.
Someone who had a file locked away by House Deneith listing her as a liability.
Someone who wasn't even a part of this plane potentially, who didn't hold the laws and values of this world as being of consequence.
Someone insane enough to stand there in the open and profess their enjoyment of seeing others suffer for her own amusement.
Someone who could...
kill.*
"Would it please you to know what his last thoughts were?" she heard in her head, and thus Uxor snapped. Diving off the platform unarmed, she came flying down like a falling stone, arms outstretched. Something within her stirred her past the fear, past the doubt, and even past the notion that by doing this, she might ultimately meet her end indeed. She knew what she wanted. Even if Mekari decided to lash out at her with powers, she was going to get what she wanted. There was no sound, no expression, no thought, and no warning as Uxor threw herself down from the high platform lunging at the form of Mekari far below.*
*Mekari didn't seem entirely surprised by it. She was more surprised that it had taken this long to invoke such a reaction. With no visible movements, and with seeming indifference, she defended herself. Uxor started to feel the sound that Deriaz and Ragyr had spoken of. A shrill cry in her mind, like the horrid shriek of thousands of suffering animals, unnatural and chilling, rattled her mind. She felt a part of herself slipping away as if her very essence were being taken from her. She bit her lip hard, and fought for control. If she failed, she failed them. Uxor clawed her way past the sensations into the present. There was only one thing that mattered, and she was going to see it through. She had anticipated that Mekari would try and stun her, and she'd hoped that even with that, her body might land on the drow and throw her off balance. Now she found that despite the sounds and the sense of personal loss... she was still in control. A face of icy, stoic, vengeance was now face to face with Mekari, and outstretched hands like talons bore down on Uxor's prey. To ring her neck would be no justice. To beat her down would only permit her the time to heal. Uxor knew what she wanted. She was never so satisfied as seeing the wave of expressions pass over Mekari's face, as Mekari realize she'd underestimated this*
*Annoyance. Displeasure. Shock. Mortification. Utter Ire. Uxor felt it was a rather fitting series of looks, considering what she'd felt up there. This was a thing of beauty, and if she never lived another day in her life, there could be nothing so satisfying as seeing these things in Mekari's eyes when Uxor's hands lashed out, taking hold of her face, and yanking it apart upwards and down. It was not, however Mekari's face. Uxor knew this. She didn't entirely understand what she had a grip on at that moment as two pieces of something slid out of view. Uxor was too busy taking in the features of a blonde haired woman, completely beside herself at having been exposed so entirely. Not knowing if Mekari could still hear her, she opted to think it anyway on the off chance that she could.*
Uxor: <Now I know you>

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn IV "Changes of Cloths" Chapter 7 continued

*Mekari had anticipated Uxor's attack. What she had not planned for, apparently, was for Uxor to still be functional when she landed. Mekari had side stepped, and had Uxor been disabled, the body of the fighter would have crumpled in a heap next to Mekari's feet. Instead, Uxor's hands found Mekari's face as her form rushed past, seizing hold of what she could, and as she fell beyond Mekari, she took with her one thing, and knocked another from the 'drow' woman's head. Holding fast to whatever was in her grasp, Uxor caught a glimpse of the thing. It was like a funerary mask... but made of something very odd. It was as if it were made of metal that had been submerged in the sea until it had taken on that familiar old green blue patina. Except it shimmered slightly. She didn't have long to ponder it, she only knew that she needed the strongest grip she could on the thing, because Mekari was in tow with her.
The force with which she'd ripped at Mekari's face to try and unmask and unhelm her, to rid her of the disguise, had also served to drag the two of them down somewhat together. Uxor burned the image of Mekari's exposed face into her memory. Ragyr had been right. She was remarkably pretty looking for someone of such malice. Graceful... likeable... a much better appearance than the creepy drow guise she presented. There was no time to consider these things, or bask in the success of her having exposed the blonde woman's face to the rest of the bar. She had Mekari on the ropes, and needed to force a choice onto her foe.
With one hand, Uxor held fast to the mask, and fortunately she was quite a strong woman. It would not take much effort, even for a frail looking person like Mekari, to ply it from her if Mekari used both hands and full focus. There in was the choice. With her other free hand, Uxor began to rummage through Mekari's things. She was going to find something of use... be it Deriaz's gem or some indication of the demise of Varro. Mekari could not both defend her personal belongings and fight for the mask. She would have to choose - her disguise or her affects. Either was a winning situation for Uxor. If she managed to get the mask from Mekari, she had a bartering tool. If she got Der's stone or anything else of consequence, she had what she wanted.*
*In such close quarters, Uxor had hoped Mekari would be incapable of using her powers in the heat of wrestling. A wash of fire coming over her body told Uxor otherwise. Fire. Her first reaction was to recoil in terror, but she steadied herself with her meditation. If she failed, she failed them. She heard an answer. <You, little dog, will feel the lash of a master's discipline. I was willing to be gener...> Another force drove both of them back. The two tumbled over across the wooden catwalk, over top the lowest level of the Phoenix. It was not Mekari's doing apparently, and Uxor wasn't certain what had happened. The two of them were rolling across the planks of the walkway, both still latched to that mask, and over the edge of the walkway they went. Uxor grabbled hold of one of the support ropes, and she felt a hard yank as Mekari dangled by the mask out over the open. She noted that Mekari was half covered in what appeared to be a frost. Uxor didn't take her eyes off Mekari however. She saw that Mekari was injured, and she judged the distance to the floor. Now it was her own turn for a choice.
Uxor let go of the mask, the only thing Mekari had hold of. Her hopes soared at seeing the blonde haired woman free fall. This hope was dashed to bits as Mekari's feet touched to the wood of the bar structures that towered up. Uxor had forgotten about her previous encounters with Mekari. Mekari found her footing on the wall as if one were simply watching someone skitter for footing on a horizontal surface, only here, it was up the wall as if gravity had no bearing. Mekari then scampered up the beam coming to right herself atop it directly across from Uxor. With mask in hand, Mekari looked to be readying some attack for Uxor this time. Fire. It would be fire and Uxor knew this. This time Mekari was not going to hold back either. It was all happening very quickly, but playing out so slowly in Uxor's mind. Dangling there completely helpless against whatever assault was to be unleashed, Uxor prepared herself for the reunion Mekari had spoken of earlier. She took some satisfaction in knowing that she'd finally managed to wipe that smug smile off Mekari's face.
Her vision was obscured as a torrent of air passed on either side of her. She didn't realize what it was until she saw the ice forming as Mekari tried to shield herself. Uxor was hanging in the path of an ice spell, and never before was she so thankful for her lineage.
Uxor then heard another voice, out loud thankfully, and it was one she did not recognize in the least. The voice behind them shouted clearly*

"It's people like YOU that ruin my chance at getting served in places like this, you imposter!"

*Uxor didn't take her eyes off Mekari to see who was talking. She saw that Mekari was injured greatly now. Unfortunately, she still had the mask. Uxor wasn't entirely certain what was happening as she saw Mekari's form dematerialize in a flash amid the freezing assault. She snapped her head round to see a male drow standing near the walkway. His hair was shaved clean down to the scalp, and his eyes were very light pink. He was wearing dull colored robes, but everything about the way he stood, spoke, and dressed suggested he was a spell caster of some kind. He was gnarling his nose at where Mekari had been standing*

"Hard enough getting service in this town without people dressing up like us and doing their mischief. You hurt badly?"

*Uxor heaved herself up onto the platform and looked at the drow in astonishment.*

"I wouldn't normally do that with you in the way but I had to take a chance that they called you the Maiden of Living Ice for a reason. You have the bartender to thank though for my intervention. Now, let's see if we can't get you cleaned up... hey, wait!"

*Uxor got to her feet and stalked right for Cog, who might have jumped right out of his warforged plating from fear at seeing Uxor storming towards him.* 'No no wait, you don't understand' *Cog stammered*

*Uxor snatched the tender up in her grasp, lifting him partly across the bar until their faces were very close together. She silently mouthed the words 'explain. now' and it was unquestionable that if Cog had any intention of continuing to clean his bar that night with the full use of his arms, he had better start talking immediately*

[TreknaQudane]

Storms of Xen'drik: Rain (Part 1)

More than one citizen of Stormreach thought it aptly named. Due to its position on Xen'drik it recieved frequent storms. Storms that washed away the blood, bile, and tears of dead adventurers and fallen heroes.

The rain beat a steady rythmn in the city around him, giving a beat to his life that his body lacked. Created near the end of the last war, Gauche was a Warforged fighter. Never actually sold to an owner, he -as Gauche prefered to be called- never had a purpose during the war nor one after to continue. Trained in the ways of stealth and killing, he was a man apart (so to speak) even among others of his kind.

The rain also gave Gauche time to think. As the world around Gauche was pelted from above, Gauche would stand and face the storms with eyes turned outward to what was to come but thought turned inward at himself. A born killer he was, but he wanted nothing of it. Trained intimately in the ways of the assassin, Gauche wasn't actually prepared to see his first victim die by his hand, to see the kobolds (somewhat) intelligent eyes fade from awareness to nothing to hear its heart struggle and falter... nor for its damning blood to cover his hands. His companions at the time congratulated him on the kill. They mistook the warforged's horrified silence as a moment to gloat over the fallen and quickly hurried on, stopping only after the warforged was out of site to turn and look for him. Gauche was already running the other way out and into the world above.

Looking down to his hands, Gauche saw red where there was none. No amount of water, sand or solvent would scrub that crimson scar away, that stain had been washed away long ago leaving this emotional one he was unable to clean.

"Never, " he thought to himself, "will I kill again. I would sooner destroy myself than take a life of another aware person. Nothing will break my oath... Nothing...."

<-Chapter 2-> (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1064307&postcount=25)

<-Thelanis Anthology Index-> (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=863569&postcount=1)

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn V "Perspective"

((The days prior to the Fellowship's search for Varro, and beyond: ))

*Uxor. Uxor, Uxor, Uxor. He was getting sore of hearing about Uxor. ‘Sore of Uxor?’ Varro tried to laugh at that rhyme, but such was his mood that even in his own jokes he found no humor. It seemed that everywhere he went, people were constantly speaking with him of the one he least desired to talk of. He’d tried to play off their recent fight as merely a complication of their ambassador work – a simple disagreement over politics. That seemed to satisfy the curiosity of most folk. It didn’t stop them from asking questions unfortunately. In his aimless walking around town, it was as if around every corner he turned, there was someone ready to needle him with “have you seen Uxor” or “when did you talk to Uxor last”. . . and his favorite: “How is Uxor?”
How is Uxor? Oh, you mean the backstabbing, snooping, spy? How in the name of all gods would I know? Maybe you should ask her yourself, I’m sure she’s lurking around here somewhere, following me. Or so his thoughts went. He was just glad he’d had enough training in diplomatic affairs to not speak his mind on some things. He’d been trying to block out the whole ordeal with constant partying and merrymaking, but even that wasn’t helping now. He’d tried turning to what dampened his memories of Endaria. Drinking. At this rate, he’d be perfectly content to drown himself in a cask of wine, and if he was lucky, no one would bother to pull him out in time.
Varro threw back another shot, and chased it with the wine and glowing blue vial mixture. Alone in his favorite perch of the Phoenix, he was only mildly appeased by the seclusion. Cog hadn’t even said a word to him when Varro walked in after a several night abstinence from the place. Cog had pulled out Varro’s usual poisons. Tonight was not for celebrating... not for socializing... not for games. Cog must have known with a glance at Varro’s expression that tonight was for oblivion – to extinguish the burn of whatever pain the Bard felt by dousing the flames with drink, until coherency was utterly suffocated. Varro had half a mind to thank the bartender for minding his own bloody business, and permitting this without so much as the slightest interference or lecture. Varro took another shot, and another. Every time he found his thoughts replaying the incidents of late, he would swallow down more liquor. He would only be satisfied once he was too far gone to be able to make sense of the memories. So until such point that his mind’s eye could fail to recount what happened... he would continue. He glowered at how it had started...*

*It was one of the more exotic garments he’d seen for some time. Varro brushed the grime of the Pit off the striking green garment, awaiting the appraisal by the vendor. A Robe of Acid? The wheels in Varro’s head set to turning immediately.
He felt a little too vulnerable in mere cloth to wear the thing himself. When you were creeping around, trying to get close enough for foes to hear your song, you wanted a good chain shirt between your skin and their blades at the very least. But seeing the fine craftsmanship of the robe, he knew it would be a waste to simply sell it.
Surrounded by the House Phalanian's wears, and the allure of the Robe of Acid, the idea flashed before his eyes like lightening: A fashion show. What better way to continue to build the Fellowship’s reputation for camaraderie and hospitality with the people of the city? Varro purchased two more robes, stopped by the bank to retrieve another decent looking garment he’d found a time earlier, and set off to find the guild hall. He was going to need advertising immediately – flyers seemed to prove the most effective tool – and a spokesperson. What better spokesperson than a woman? He knew one that owed him from his help with her masked ball... Uxor. He couldn’t really recount seeing her in a dress of any kind. He had, however, heard talk of the gown she wore to the ball. So if one threw something a bit more effeminate onto her, she would look very presentable for the task. Now, his task would be convincing her to wear the robes. Appealing to her vanity would not do, so he would need to appeal to her sense of duty.*

*A curse on all Robes of Acid, he thought. Varro took another shot.
<“You’re a little distracted tonight, no?”> He heard in his head. He groaned audibly, coming to an awareness that Mekari was sitting across from him, and the voice in his head was not his own. He wasn’t in any frame of mind for her playfulness. He quipped back a thought of <What do you want now?> *
Mekari: <I don’t ‘want’ anything...presently>
Varro: <Good. Then slag off.>
Mekari: <To clarify, I don’t want anything, but I did come to see how you are doing>
Varro: <Isn’t it enough that you’ve wrecked my life for a little while? Come to see if there’s any part of my happiness left to trample?>
*He went to take another round, and practically spat it out in disgust. Whatever that was, it was not his drink. Mekari smiled lightly, pushing the glass back to him*
Mekari: <Not to your liking? I thought I would bring a peace offering, but that reaction tells me you don’t approve of it.>
*Varro worked his mouth and tried to wash away the flavor with his chaser drink, to no great avail*
Varro: <Can’t even afford me the decency of drinking myself to death in peace hm?>
Mekari: <Look at you - sulking and miserable – and for what? You’ve become one of the more public figures in this city, and what are you making of it? Getting wasted beyond repair or care. Bravo.>
Varro: <If I wanted a lecture on my bad habits, I’d go find my spy, thank you> *to which he lifted his glass and finished the remainder of whatever dreadful concoction Mekari brought for him*
Mekari: <The pale faced one, ah yes... speaking of which, if she is what all this is about, I suggest you start being thankful. It’s better off with her gone. The more she knows, the more danger she would be in. So distance probably could save her.>
Varro: <It’s your fault anyway. Don’t sit there and tell me how much ‘better’ things are. Things WERE better before you came.>
Mekari: <Ever in denial, which is what I love about you my boy. For all your craft with people, you still have no capacity to admit when you’re in the wrong.>
Varro: *slamming the glass back down* <Things were getting better for me until the day you showed your face. Or correction, the day you showed your current face.>
*In his mind, it HAD all started the moment Mekari had stepped into his presence once more...*

Varro: Oh yes yes yes. You owe me little missy. See I'm rather coming to like this arrangement you and i have. You scratch my back, and I scratch yours. Isn't that how it goes? And it's my turn to be scratched in the initiative.
*Uxor narrowed her eyes at him, stomping her foot*
Varro: Sorry, that's not going to get you out of it. And no, you've not had an end to this conversation. Come, it's not like I'm going to make you actually work in the show...although *he looked up pondering the possibility*
*Uxor's eyes widened a little, and she shook her head no, followed by writing* "I will help with the sketches ...instead."
Varro: Sheesh, you'd think I asked you to dance in a wall of fire. Here, you'll need to try the rest on to make sure they fit. I'll need several drawings to pick from
*Uxor wrote out* "Are you just doing this to somehow get under House D's skin?"
Varro: Me? Never. What's wrong with holding some nice festivities for the city? The Coin Lords shine on such activities. If my doing this did happen to step on the toes of some nobleman, well...
*An approach caught Varro’s attention. As an ambassador he had learned to make nice with all faces who crossed the hall, and as immediately as possible, for many reasons. To avoid misunderstandings, to create a close sense of welcome to new members, and to discern intent – friendly or hostile- as fast as he was able*
Varro: Greetings traveler. What brings you among us?
*The woman walked towards them with a smile. At the instant of hearing her voice, the hairs on the back of his neck may as well have stood on end. Not from fear, but from annoyance and hostility.* “You must be Varro - I recognized you. Not familiar with your friend there” *she lifted her chin in a sort of reversed nod of acknowledgement at Uxor* “but I am called Mekari.”
*How dare she show herself here in such a way, pretending to be a stranger. That was not his greatest irritation. If she desired to speak with him again, she could have contacted him in private. No, she came to make a show of it even. Well he wasn’t going to let her have her sport.*
Varro: Uxor, why don't you go ahead and keep those robes for me. We'll find another time to continue. I'll be at my place if you need me. Mekari is it? Please, come with me.
*He worked hard to mask his great change of mood from Uxor, but knew that effort to possibly be futile. She’d taken to working closely with him, and confidence between one another was frequent. He was certain in her hold to her word, and if he told her to remain, he knew she would do so. Uxor was a creature of duty, and also one who could understand the need for privacy. No matter could be more private to him than this. There was no cause to say anything to Mekari further... she would know his intent – as well as his irritation. He stalked down the street with her gliding along beside him, with her sly and faked indifferent smile. He would say nothing to her out here. He would wait until they were back to his home. In the meantime, it gave him the opportunity to think over many choice words for her.*
*When they arrived at his home, he didn’t bother pulling out a chair for her, flopping himself instead into a chair on his own at the front room table. Undoubtedly there was a particular reason she had come to him, and so he broke into conversing with her in a tongue that fully assured him of who she claimed to be... the language of Quori*
Varro: [Sorry if the place is a bit messy. I wasn’t expecting company of your kind]
Mekari: [I like how you say that... my kind. No warm feelings towards someone who came to see after your well being out of the goodness of their heart? I had to come far out of my way you know, to be here and see you. Wasn’t too difficult to find you fortunately.]
Varro: [So good of you to 'check up' on me "Mekari"... or whatever name it is you're using these days]
Mekari: [It is my name. Not the name you knew... I've had fewer reasons of late to see the need to hold to my aliases.]
Varro: [Yes well, you'll have to excuse me if I don't exactly have the easiest time keeping them all straight. Nice face by the way - could stand to be a little darker though, you look like an elven drow mutt]
Mekari: [choice words . . . from one who knows so much about illegitimate unions. Though your father and I like to refer to it as 'planar mingling' or something else kinder than mutt, my dear]
Varro: [What game are you onto Elena? You must want something... you never come to spend quality time.]
Mekari: [Must I always want something to see you? Am I not permitted to visit out of simple desire?]
Varro: [You have some nerve. You think you can just shuffle out of my life and return to play games when it suits your fancy. So what was the draw this time, hm? Some Lord send you to spy on me?]
Mekari: [Don't play victim with me, it's not becoming of you. I taught you better. I just thought I should check in and see how you were handling your loss.]
*Varro scawfed at her*
Mekari: [No, it's true. When I heard of it, I needed to find you. To be certain you were doing well.]
Varro: [yes, well, as you can see, I'm alive, I'm eating, and life goes on]
Mekari: [I just know how much she meant to you. When your father died, it was trying on me. . . ]
Varro: [Don't. Don't even compare your experience to mine. Especially over a man I barely knew of to even speak a name]
Mekari: [Well, in any event, I'm going to be keeping my eye on you for a little while - in a way perhaps closer than usual. Though I've gathered much information in my searching for you. You've made quite the party-man of yourself around town, Minstrel]
Varro: [And just how's that. Planning on rooming with me? ]
Mekari: [Better. Hadn't you noticed my attire? I'm a field surgeon now... a cleric. A useful tool to folk of your line of work]
Varro: [I think I liked you better when you pretended to be a bard]
Mekari: [Always the poison tongue] *she laughed a little* [Actually, I think you'll find my services most beneficial to your fellowship.]
Varro: [Don't bother]
Mekari: [It's a little late for that now. You see, I met a lovely man who's already accepted me among their fold. I haven't made mention of our connection in the least, out of kindness. I'll be filling in among your ranks]
Varro: [What? No...that isn't going to be happening. I forbid it. One word from me and you'll be kicked out on the street so fast your body will get there before your clothes.]
Mekari: [Is that so? See, I thought you might say something like that, so I thought i had better remind you that it would behoove you to play nice. You see, I'd hate to have to be the one to break it to them about your marriage. Imagine what your little pale skinned lady friend might think?]
*This stilled his ire for the moment. He really didn’t want Uxor tangled in his affairs. He’d worked hard to avoid that.*
Mekari: [I suggest you keep that in mind should the urge to have me removed from among your fold cross your thoughts. Play nice though, and I won't have to resort to being 'honest.']
*Varro contemplated the situation as Mekari left. He was in such a comfortable position these days, and he didn’t want it to change. If Mekari were so inclined, she could set about change. He would have to tolerate her presence. This meant keeping his distance from her somewhat. After all, he didn’t know the circumstances of her joining... what had she told them when she applied? If she had mentioned that she was a ‘friend’ ... or who knows what other excuse of affiliation she gave them... that he could deal with. But if she’d presented herself as a stranger, he’d have much explaining to do in how it was that she said she was a newcomer that he was vastly familiar with. The best course of action was to avoid her. He would feel out the attitudes of the other guild mates before having a set way of behaving around Mekari.*

*Varro’s recollection of the arrival of Mekari was interrupted by her thought probing back into forefront*
Mekari: <Things were not as upward bound as you interpret my dear. I will not, however, bother explaining the benefits of my arrival – other than to remind you that I have your best interests in mind.>
Varro: <That’s always the story, isn’t it? Take care of the Minstrel, watch out for him, keep an eye on him. Am I suddenly everyone’s hobby?>
Mekari: <Did Endaria have this much trouble caring for you I wonder?>
*Varro set his glass back down and shook his head, huffing a deeply sarcastic laugh through his teeth*
Varro: <Ah good, what evening of mine would be complete without you twisting a knife in that unhealing wound...>
Mekari: <It is only unhealing because you make it so, as you are doing presently. My point was – which is lost on you undoubtedly – that you are driving others away from you. Granted it is probably safer, as I said before, but is that what you want? Far be it for me to tell you what you want, but seeing you here like this speaks greatly to your displeasure> *She pushed another glass towards him*
Mekari: <If you want to end it Varro, best to do it quickly, not in a way others can watch slowly. You might be mad at her, but your ‘spy,’ despite her and her metal friend’s insistence at sticking their noses in places they don’t belong... they seem to have a genuine interest in your well being. Misguided perhaps, but their intentions seem sincere. That you need me of all people to bring these things to your attention is a bit absurd, as I am the last authority on this plane for such concepts> *there was almost a shrug implied in her mental tone*
Varro: <You know, what did you do to her anyway? You’re the reason she started acting crazy in the first place.>
Mekari: <Me? To Uxor? Nothing. I’ve spoken maybe a handful of occasions with her since arriving.>
Varro: <I might be listening to you in my head, but don’t think that means you can get away with dodging my questions.>
Mekari: <I haven’t done anything for a change. Besides, I’m not the reason she’s acting ‘crazy’ ... you are.>
Varro: <See, now that’s where I beg to differ. Day before... all is normal; day after... crazy stealthy spy girl. How interesting that the timing of that hinges around your arrival>
*Really he should have seen it coming sooner. In retrospect, the whole situation made sense. At the time, he had been blinded by friendship.*

Varro: "Uxor? Lost your hearing now as well?"
*Uxor’s gaze came back. She’d been looking at her drink, but not looking ‘at’ it. Through it was perhaps the better word. The sound of his voice brought her once more to their drinking game. She gnarled her nose at him with a playful smile*
Varro: "You're a bit distracted tonight. Or is it that I'm finally besting you at this game? The mighty Uxor, vanquished by a mere musician?! What will the other warriors say when they hear of this. . ."
*He continued to tease her and prod her in this way, but it was apparent, even to him in his relaxed state, that something was bothering her.*
Varro: "What's on your mind?" *he asked, chalking another hash mark on the paper they were using to keep track of their drinking rounds.*
*She wrote on the scrap of paper the word "Dragon"*
Varro: "What about it?" *he asked as he started to polish another glass down, giving her ample time to write a reply. She turned the paper round to him as he finished*
Uxor: *she wrote* "The sightings. I know the training missions have increased. There's more talk now that we'll be the next commissioned to fight. . . I heard the new healer spotted a large red one flying over the gate of the harbor and market. And I know the team is being assembled"
Varro: "Of course. I've been fielding inquiries myself for the Lady Hope's 'team'. Your warforged friend is counted among the willing, I hear. That should make you pleased. In fact, he was here just the other night for a game of twenty questions with me since he apparently stumped Ruetger"
*She nodded as he finished his drink, implying that he should continue.*
Varro: "Seems our fine metal friend has gone and worked the political ladder until he arrived somewhere suitable. 'ambassador to the fellowship on behalf of Blue Line'... good for him" *he raised a glass in toast, which he handed to her to finish. She wrote, before following through the remainder of the toast*
Uxor: "Yes I know. I was in the guild hall when he delivered the message. And you're right, I am happy - for that and his willingness to help with the dragon. That is what is troubling me actually. I think they want me to fight the dragon with them. I don't now if I can bring myself to face that."
*This surprised him... almost as much as hearing that Deriaz had become an ambassador. He angled his head and lifted a brow in response to that note*
Varro: "Have they asked you to?"
*she shook her head, but then wrote* "Not in so many words. . . "
*after another moment, she wrote* "I just don't want to disappoint them" *and she took another strong drink*
*He leaned back from the table a bit, holding the next drink in his lap. He could tell she had a certain degree of shame or hesitation in what she wrote. How sad... so set between duty and personal terror. He knew if they asked her, she would do it. So the fact that she was still concerned suggested that they had not yet asked. He was glad for that. He wouldn’t want her to take a matter such as that upon herself. He figured that he understood how he felt with his fear of spiders, and knew Uxor’s fear of fire to be many times more so; he couldn’t imagine trying to function under such a self imposed paralysis as hers towards flame. In fact, he had such an awareness and empathy to it, that he was always careful not to bring any flaming weapons around her unannounced to be kind to her difficulty.*
Varro: "Uxor, while I'm sure they have a lot of faith and belief in you, they don't seem the type of guild to hold it against you if you stand this one out because of your phobia. If you think it will compromise the mission, they'll understand"
*She seemed a little relieved, but it surprised him slightly that she would think they would ask something like that of her, knowing of her problem.*
Uxor: "Even so. I'm considering doing it. I'm just, like you said, afraid I would jeopardize the journey."
Varro: "You don't have to prove anything to anyone Uxor. What's more, if you're doing it for pride or to save face, I won't let you. You spend a good deal of time telling me what I shouldn't get myself into, or how I should take care of myself. So once again, it is my turn to return the favor"
*she sighed, writing* "You are a good friend. I'm glad to know you."
Varro: *he waved her off* "Not good enough to keep up with the likes of you I am afraid" *he set the glass down. She frowned at him, writing "giving up so early?"*
Varro: "Maybe I'm just trying to take better care of myself these days? Ever think of that?" *Not that he’d EVER admit to her that she’d beaten him yet again. In fairness, he’d started their game before she arrived, and was thus ‘ahead’ in drinks to begin with. All that mattered now however was that he was starting to ache with drinking, and could feel the true impact of the spirits upon him. She shrugged to him and they shook hands, to symbolize the end of their game for the time being. He made a few attempts at getting off his feather falling spell, and this told him the sort of shape he was fast setting into. It was probably better to set for home before he completely went to his drunken ramblings to one and all. He was not gone so far that he couldn’t offer her continued comfort. He could tell she was still bothered, and so spoke as he drifted to the floor*
Varro: "Just take it one step at a time. One day, without so much as a care, you'll bathe in lava, I'm certain." *he grinned up at her as he staggered his way out of the Phoenix*
*He’d been making his way across town when he saw someone pass by with that smile. Her smile. He could recognize her expressions no matter what face she wore. He went to the place that she so frequently requested their meetings to be*
*Arriving in the ally, he found that she was already standing there, but in her Drow appearance now. He’d taken his time getting to her. Varro figured he could make her wait if she was going to insist on interrupting his evening. Again he resorted to Quori*
Varro: [Can I help you?]
Mekari: [The question is more, can I help you...I think I can. I think all of this is going to your head. You walk around like there is no reason to take any sort of precautions. When...] *she stopped, and seemed to focus on something.*
Varro: [Precautions. What precautions?] *he grew quiet when she did. He knew better than to try and carry on any sort of conversation when she was focused like that. She looked up at the roof, and he did so in turn. Then she proceeded in her fashion to walk up the wall steadily. Varro rolled his eyes and clambered up after her. Whatever prey was atop the building, if he didn’t come up with her, she’d be on it... if she wasn’t on it already. He gnarled his nose, speaking indignantly*
Varro: [You know, I'm not as young as you think]
Mekari: [Quiet]
*Something occured to Varro, and before the incident could go further, he decided to intervene.*
Varro: [Here, I'll make short work of this] *He started to play his entrancing melody. He was never without the means to make music, even if he had to resort to whistling. It all worked most efficiently. He was, however, more practiced with the lute, and thus preferred it and his own voice to any other. When he was confident that he’d played the tune in a sufficient radius around the roof, he turned to Mekari once more*
Varro: [See? No easy prey to be had]
Mekari: [I appreciate the demonstration, but it would do you well to pay closer attention. Especially at times of night.]
Varro: [Not all of us are so paranoid as you]
Mekari: [You should be. Ambassadors are popular targets for kidnappings and ransoms.]
Varro: [Also very public figures. . . so if a house has any tricks in mind, it would be within their interest not to do something that could draw undue attention to their doorstep]
Mekari: [Even so, do not think you are an exception]
Varro: [is our lecture finished? I have a pounding head to nurse, if it's all the same to you] *Mekari leveled her look to him*
Mekari: [Just watching out for your interests. Is that so wrong?]
Varro: [Your purpose is never that simple though. It’s not watching out... it’s a project...of some kind. I just haven’t determined what kind yet.]
Mekari: [You act as though I have no right for concerns]
*Varro was irritated with her to the greatest degree. She robbed him of his evenings at times. She felt it was her place to tell him how and where to be. Most importantly, always there was the knowledge that her objective was just that... an objective. He doubted her capacity to have real worry for him. This was an amusement for her – something to occupy her time until her next need to be afar for uncertain amounts of time. It was more like he was her dog... a pet to play with in between work. He resented it. To make his point, and because he was now well into his drunken lack of restraint, he pulled the sword on her. He pressed it close to her, until he could see in her expression that she was discomforted.*
Varro: [If I kill you now, it would remedy your 'concerns,' no?]
Mekari: [When did someone like you get the aura to wield a thing like that?]
Varro: [Let's just say I've learned to get around the properties of it enough to use to my benefit. My interests stopped being your concern long ago.]
Mekari: You're drunk. *she said in common*
*The bite of a cornered snake. She was trying to play off her fear with insults. Good... he wanted that. He was glad that she was not above fear. This dog of hers had teeth, and she was not his master, merely a keeper, thus, subject to his fangs if he felt cause to bite*
Varro: [I would kill you now, but it's probably your intention. Perhaps to deny you of it will wound you more greatly?]
Mekari: [it is your wish to see me suffer?]
Varro: [Always. In fact, I've a mind to just turn this weapon in you and watch.] *he hissed the words at Mekari, pressing the blade closer still. It was the truth of the matter. He had not asked for his lot in life, and he was bitter that she presumed that he should be thankful. Varro knew her however... and knew that she was probably crazy enough to have been doing all of this JUST to make him deliver that fatal blow. There was never any telling what scheme she had in mind... and she always had one. He withdrew the blade from her, seeing that she had been sufficiently shaken for the moment.*
Varro: [You should be proud that I’ve come as far on my own as I have]
*Mekari looked as if she were going to give a rebuttal or cool protest to his behavior, when her focus snapped away from him, and she took on that faraway gaze.*
Mekari: [Something is wrong. Go home.]
*Varro nodded, but rolled his eyes as she sped off the roof across town, undoubtedly checking on one of her ‘projects.’ Go home indeed. If he went home, it was of his own doing. Of course her request had been made for the vast paranoia that was hers. Always, someone was out to get him in her mind. Well good, maybe then he’d be rid of her constant fussing. He was her dog indeed. She cared for him in the same way one cared for a prized pedigree animal... a fear that something would happen to it or that someone would steal it away. Could it be called love though? Hardly. Maybe back on Dal Quor this was the nature of love, but he’d never understand it if so. She, likewise, would never understand his contempt and bitterness towards her.
There was something else at hand however, and his captive should be the one who was thankful ... for whatever had Mekari’s attention also kept them from discovery. He walked around, seeking out whoever he had snared in his music. He had his suspicions. Then he heard something fall...the sound of a form striking something solid, and metal jingling. He went towards the sound, and approximated where the invisible visitor was. He gave a good solid kick towards the area of a slight visual disruption, and he smiled as his foot connected solidly with a form*
Varro: Nice of you to be patient
*He blinked startled at the sight of Uxor sprawled on the roof, set to limp overturning when he kicked her. She was the invisible one? He became very thankful that he’d bothered to follow Mekari to the roof. If Mekari had found her first in such a state, she’d have been as liable to kill Uxor as ask questions of her purposes. Inspecting her for signs of wounds, he found that Uxor was unconscious. Confident that she was unharmed for the most part, he then sat beside her, watching her sleep and contemplating her presence. Of course... he should have guessed. Uxor had been tailing Mekari. That was what their drinking game had been for, to set him off to bed drunken and unawares, while she went covert to try and spy on Mekari. He should have suspected as much when Deriaz and Ragyr had come poking around asking questions of Mekari. No doubt, they’d gotten it in their heads that she was a threat somehow... which didn’t surprise him too much. Mekari could be likeable, but also just as dislikeable in her arrogance and foreign accent, so for them to be cautious over her was no great surprise. He started to pick Uxor up, set on carrying her to somewhere to recover and wake, but he stopped. If he moved her, Uxor would know that he had caught her red handed. This would mean that she might resort to being even more crafty or evasive of him. It was perhaps better that she not know that he’d found her, so he could more closely watch her actions. He cast the longest invisibility back upon her that he was able, sang a little tune to her to encourage sooner waking, but left her gingerly back on the rooftop where she’d fallen. As a precaution, he even healed her, whether she needed it or not, incase he’d kicked her too hard. In truth, he’d expected to find Deriaz up here on the roof snooping, as he already suspected the warforged was up to something. With great alarm, he sat up. If Uxor was here, and Deriaz was up to something... and that something related to Mekari...
With all the speed magic available to him, he set off across town. Really he had no idea where to start looking, but making the attempt was perhaps better than nothing at all. If he didn’t, he was liable to hear of a very deceased Blue Line ambassador in the morning.*
*The whole of the eve, he went from one end of the city to another. In vain efforts, he started for the guildhall, incase anyone had seen Mekari or Deriaz to know their last wearabouts. Then he crossed paths with a fumbling wounded warforged ambling aimlessly through town. This was Deriaz, and he was in poor condition. His run in with Mekari went better than Varro had anticipated*
Varro: Deriaz? Are you alright?
*Deriaz: stared blankly past Varro, and kept muttering something about needing to get to the guildhall. He seemed oblivious to his injuries. Varro had seen this before... charmed undoubtedly. Or dominated perhaps. It was difficult to say. Whatever the case, he took over the care of Deriaz. Again he was faced with the dilemma of Deriaz being aware of Varro having awareness of their actions. He made them both invisible, and fortunately, at this hour, there were few even in the guildhall to have to avoid. He took Deriaz to a room and inspected his injuries. Mental ones... and Varro knew the sort of help that Deriaz needed. Varro rooted through his bags and found several choice scrolls of restoration. He crossed his fingers trying to use them on Deriaz... scrolls were not his forte in magic. With many attempts more than necessary, he succeeded in restoring Deriaz to full capabilities. It would take time for the affects of what Mekari had done to wear off, so he used the opportunity to attend to Deriaz’s comfort, left a small bottle of oil for him, and then stole away from the room, leaving Deriaz to awaken unawares of who had tended to him*

*Mekari had infinite patience apparently with Varro’s temper, but she was not taking his accusations without protest, as she pulled the drink away from him this time. It was empty, and he was holding it out of habit more than drinking*
Mekari: <Need I remind you whose choice it was to not tell her about me?>
Varro: *he rolled his head in annoyance* <Didn’t you JUST get done telling me how much better off I am without her? That the more she knows, the worse the trouble?>
Mekari: <I said better off for her. Obviously, you’re no better for it>
Varro: Well of course I’m not! I’d rather be dead than feel like this! *He’d forgotten to reply silently in his head, but didn’t seem to have noticed*
Mekari: Then what’s stopping you? Do you need help?
Varro: Wouldn’t you enjoy that I’m sure *he sneered at her*
*She had once more succeeded on bringing him to thinking on that which he did not wish to. The feelings that surged in him whenever he thought about the betrayal*

*When Uxor had come to him, frantic and full of panic over Deriaz, he had to help her. Despite knowing what Deriaz and she had been up to in regards to Mekari, he would help her. She was his friend. He retreated to his room to get more dressed and consider the situation, leaving Uxor to pen out her feelings in the other room, and found Mekari perched in the window of his bedroom. She must have been there a long time, because she spoke directly to his mind rather than out loud, so she had an awareness that Uxor was there*
Mekari: <Oh good, you’re up. Saves me the trouble of waking you>
Varro: <How long have you been listening?>
Mekari: <Does it matter?>
Varro: <Fair enough.> *he slipped on his shirt and glared at Mekari* <You stay quiet, we’ll talk afterwards>
Mekari: <What’s the trouble with your pale faced friend?>
Varro: <That is not your business>
Mekari: <She’s pretty you know, in a queer, monochromatic sort of way.>
Varro: <I assure you, it’s not THAT sort of trouble. Now scram> *he didn’t permit further discussion, and passed through the door.>
*When he learned of the situation with Ragyr, Deriaz, and the fact that Uxor had set Ragyr after Mekari, he was alarmed. Before now, he’d been watching casually, making sure that Uxor and Deriaz didn’t get into deeper trouble than they were already in. The ransom flyers were no trouble – the two had at least been smart enough to go in disguise. This situation was too much though. Varro was going to set things straight and final. He managed to obtain all the information Uxor knew of how to best Ragyr, who was wielding Deriaz’s body. After careful consideration, he formed a plan, and it would hinge upon Uxor staying out of the incident. It was good that Ragyr was already out alone. He also knew that if he told Uxor to stay somewhere, that she would. They could trust one another in this way. Once Uxor had calmed and gone, he returned to his room where Mekari was waiting.*
Mekari: *she smiled at him in the window* <I couldn’t quiet catch all of it, but your little play language has enough snip-its of Quori for me to know that something is wrong, and that you’re planning>
Varro: *he sighed and looked at her* <I need your help>
Mekari: <Oooh, at last you see the benefit of having me here then?>
Varro: <More I admit that I’m a little outside my limitations for this situation.>
*Varro explained all he knew of the matter to Mekari, who took the information in with a face of broadly grinning amusement. When he’d finished, and started to relate his plan, she shook her head to him*
Mekari: <I have a better idea, not unlike yours, but a better one>
Varro: <He has to be unconscious or dead for it to work>
Mekari: <Or willing. You say you don’t want him killed, no? Then I am your best hope of that. Trying to put him down, he won’t go willingly. And what’s more, if he knows that you’re involved, you’ll never be rid of the threat of him. So, I am the best avenue. He wants to find me, then he will have me. Just not in the way that he is prepared for>
*Mekari went over the plan of attack*
((Chat Transcript & Writing combination. Special thanks to Deriaz/Ragyr))
*Two little red lights was all that Mekari and Varro needed to know that indeed, Ragyr was up above. They’d come in invisible, slowly, and watching from great distance. As was planned, Varro waited for Mekari to assume the form of Uxor, as was her capability of disguise. Once she’d climbed up to him and gotten his attention, he started his song. He inched closer and closer until he was confident that Ragyr was affected by it. Varro remained out of sight for the time being while he watched Mekari and Deriaz interact. After a moment, Varro heard Mekari in his head with her report on the situation*
Mekari: <It’s no good, to the first idea. I can’t get him to take it out. The gem must really and utterly control it, and I can’t compel him to remove it because he’s aware of what it will do apparently. So it looks like we’re going to have to be more forceful.>
Varro: <Alright. Just don’t kill him if we can help it.>
Mekari: <Just come with us. We’re heading down to the harbor docks>
*Varro followed, holding back his song until Mekari prompted him to resume it, whereat he played until once more, Ragyr was again ensnared in the song. He could hear words of protest, but Mekari was soothing him, and after a few more moments, he saw that Ragyr had become Deriaz.*
Varro: <It worked? Already?>
Mekari: <Not yet... just getting something straight>
*Varro decided that he needed to listen in closer and pay attention, so he slipped closer than before to hear what Mekari said to Deriaz. He raised his brows at Mekari when he saw her drop her disguise entirely, revealing her true appearence to him with her helm. He was about to ask her what she was doing, when he saw her take off her helm as well.*
Varro: <What are you doing??>
Mekari: <Patience.>
*Varro listened carefully*
*Varro could see that terror was on Deriaz’s face at the sight of Mekari. His previous run in with her must have instilled a fair amount of caution, if not fear. He wished that Deriaz would have taken that to better heart. He listened to Deriaz and Mekari talk.*
Deriaz: Why the disguise?
*Varro heard Mekari request mentally for a relent his music for the moment*
Mekari: That is not your concern. I felt it was necessary for you to realize that you are in over your head. What is important is that now it seems there is somewhat of a bounty on my head? So I wanted you to see this. To know that it would behoove you to let the past remain the past. . . because if you don't. . . I will ensure that you never see this world again. . . and your counterpart will have ultimate control. Know that I will hold the balance of your existence in my hands, and should you act in a way that does not please me, I will know. And I will see to it that your body is the permanent house solely of your fine friend. Now if you would be so kind as to permit Ragyr to speak with me again
Deriaz: I. . . Yeah. . . Yeah, sure. . . *His eyes went colorless again. The metal became black, the legs and arms extended slightly, and the red eyes flashed on.*
*It was then Ragyr who was standing there, and eyed Mekari.* Well, you look a little different since I last saw you. . .
Mekari: Indeed. I wanted to show you something. You see, it seems I've been painted out as some sort of... how shall I say... monster. As you can clearly see, this is obviously a misconception. I understand that there is a price on my head, and I believe that it is part of this misunderstanding. But what I wanted you to see, is that it is actually within your interests not to kill me. Do you know why?
Ragyr: Can't say that I do. Humor me.
Mekari: Well, first go ahead and stretch out on the ground. As I said, it is something that is hard to explain. More of a visual element.
*Mekari requested Varro to resume his music. He wasn’t quite sure what she was up to entirely yet, but he knew that it was something for her to go to the trouble of showing her real face. Even Varro had only seen her real face a handful of times in his life.*
Mekari: Now pay very close attention to what I am going to say. Stay there please. *and she backed up a distance from him* I am going to cast some magic on you again that will help to illustrate this, are you ready?
Ragyr: *He nodded.* Go ahead.
*Varro’s song was already drifting to Ragyr, and doing the job well. Once more Ragyr couldn’t move. He heard Ragyr protest*
Ragyr: What's the big idea!?
*Varro switched to another type of magic, a more forceful hold of Ragyr’s body than the simple drifting melody. He cast it repeatedly until it stuck soundly upon Ragyr. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Mekari had drawn a blade, and was making a broad slice across her arm.*
Mekari: I want you to know that I have just cut myself quite deeply
*Mekari licked the blood that ran off her wound, and Varro rolled his eyes at her. Completely mad, there could be no denying it really. She was still up to something though. The sounds from the warforged told him that she had not cut herself idly.*
Mekari: should you find yourself itching to bring harm to me, that you will suffer my pain as well. And secondly, I want you to realize that if you EVER want to be in control of that body one day, you had better think twice about following this job of yours. I want you to realize that I can strike you down without the need to be in front of you. So think hard, friend, the next time you feel the need to lift a blade towards me. Because if you kill me, you will never be free again. Do you understand? You will never find your control. Do I make myself clear? If you please me, perhaps, one day, I will find the need to hire you myself.
*Varro was a little impressed...and disheartened, when Ragyr could still manage a response to Mekari. Varro knew Mekari’s methods, and knew them well... well enough to know that the ‘forged was suppressing his outcries.*
Ragyr: No. . . Can do. . . I've got a job. . . And I always follow through.
Mekari: I want you to know that I will be the keeper of your precious gem. If you ever want to see it again, it would be ill advised to kill me.
*A low growl came from Ragyr finally, and Varro knew he was breaking under the onslaught. It wouldn’t be long now.*
Ragyr: If you. . . Really want to take it. . . Why don't you fight me fairly?
Mekari: Oh Ragyr... do I look like the sort of person who cares for the fairness of the world? I appeared to you as a spider by the name of all gods *she scawfed* Remember this moment. Remember that my death means this is the end for you. *and the assault on him continued until he was no longer conscious. This took time. Mekari lashed out at Deriaz with other forces that were to her, as well as physically coming to him and marring him. Varro stepped forward*
Varro: <That is enough. He is out.>
Mekari: <Do you think so?> *she gave Ragyr/Deriaz’s form another slash with her blade*
Varro: <Mekari! He’s out. We just need him unconscious, not dead. What’s say we try that gem BEFORE you kill him, hm?>
*Mekari knelt down and plucked the little object from Deriaz’s forehead. It slid out easily now that the forged was unconscious. She tossed the gem to Varro, who caught it with surprise.*
Varro: <What’s this for? Thought you were keeping it.>
Mekari: <I am. But it would be too obvious that it were in my possession. I need it somewhere more secure than this, and somewhere unsuspected. That would be you my boy. Keep it safe for me. I may have need to use it again.>
Varro: <No. If I am keeping it, it will be mine to do with as I see fit. Got it?>
Mekari: <Suit yourself. I suppose it won’t matter which of us keeps it. All that matters is that they don’t have it.> *she nodded towards the warforged on the ground*
*Varro had to really marvel at the beauty of her insanity. She had pitted Deriaz and Ragyr against one another so fully, and so unmistakably, and in a way that kept her clear of the flames. Each feared the other taking full control, and in this way, she had control over them both. What’s more, even if they did manage to kill her and sift through her belongings, or find some other magical means of locating the thing, they would still be unsatisfied, as it would provide nothing. Varro waited for Mekari to leave, and ensured that Deriaz would not bleed to death before setting off to find his own means to prevent divination on him having the gem, and getting a good drink before retiring for the eve. Strong drink was required after this night.*
*A firm prod to his forehead the next morning had him glowering awake. He was so thoroughly annoyed at Mekari’s wake up calls.*
Varro: Woman, you have no concept of privacy or hangovers, do you? *but when Varro’s eyes came open, they were met with the brightness that was the light of early dawn on Uxor’s form, staring down at him. A bit subconscious about the fact that he had naught on but the bed sheet, he shifted it more closely around himself* Good morning Uxor. To what do I owe this unannounced visit? If you’ll give me a moment to...
*She’d already scrawled a note apparently, as she flicked the folded paper at him and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him*
Varro: I will take that to mean it’s of some urgency *He had a sneaking suspicious that she was not pleased with the results of his ‘help’ for Deriaz. None the less, he started reading the note, which went:*
“How dare you! Are you completely insane??? Why did you go to Mekari??? That is the LAST person who needed to know about Deriaz’s trouble! What if she tells someone about Ragyr? What if she ransoms that information? And he’s lucky to have made it to me alive! He was practically dead on. . .”
*Varro stopped reading and pulled the sheets to wrap round him as he stood up. Obviously she’d had much time to stew over the matter between the previous eve and now.*
Varro: Look, first off... *her shove, which he was entirely unprepared for, forced him off his feet back onto the bed. He blinked at the ceiling in considerable agitation, but her intent was clear. She wanted him to read ALL of her note. *
Varro: Nice. Very civilized of you. *he stared at the ceiling on his back a moment before continuing to read the remainder of the note*
“. . . he was practically dead on my threshold!! I came to you because I felt I could put my faith in you. I was wrong? For your information now Mekari has that stone, and who knows what she plans on doing with it! You’re going to tell me something right now Varro – who is Mekari? Hell, who are you really?”
*He slapped the paper down on the bed and sat up. The sheer nerve of her to come storming into his room; she was definitely looking a gift horse in the mouth at this point. Uxor had no idea the amount of trouble he’d gone through to protect her and Deriaz, beyond the night before. For her to come in here and make such demands really set his mood fowl.*
Varro: Is that so? Did it ever occur to you that there might be a good reason for me to not tell you? Or how about this – all things considered, wounded or not, you have Deriaz back, am I right?
*She held out an arm for her paper, more than likely so she could continue her written tyrate. Varro moved by her, stretching and trying to get his bearings for the morning. He was still a bit pained from drinking, and it was as yet a bit early for him to be awake. This of course didn’t matter to Uxor, who promptly came around with another note for him, which she shoved into his chest roughly*
Varro: No need for hostility. *he hated when women got into this mode. The lecture. How he loathed lecture. Her next note he had intended to read in full*
“Don’t act like you’re doing me any favors by having done it that way, or that you shouldn’t have to tell me. Do you know how much I’ve had to cover for you? All the times I stuck up for you with the others when your honor is called into question... *he stopped reading. Stuck up... for him? He was going to lay into her with all the ‘sticking up’ he’d had to do himself to level the playing field, but he knew it was a mood point. This would earn him nothing but further lecture from her. The notion of her acting as if she held some lofty power against him really got his dander up however, and he found himself instead turning the topic to her utter disregard for what he had done, and her place in his home.*
Varro: I don’t need this. You asked me to help, and I did! And you have a lot of gall barging in here with your inquisition. For all you knew, I could have been in here ‘entertaining’ company. Lots of it...
*His head turned from the force of the slap across the face she gave him. He hadn’t anticipated it really. In the past, such a slap across the face might have generated a different reaction from him. Today, it set him on the offense. He’d had enough. Who did she think she was? Alright, perhaps his comment about ‘entertaining company’ was unnecessary, but so too was her attitude. He closed his eyes and grinned with the satisfaction of knowing that he was about to put her in her place, friend though she was. He was going to be frank with her, because at this point, she needed it. He felt some blood going down the corner of his mouth, and wiped at it passively, and it was not just blood that dripped from his mouth now, but his pointedly placed sarcasm.*
Varro: You know, I haven’t had a woman hit me like that since my late wife...thank you for the refresher. It’s funny, sometimes I forget that you’re such a strong arm. Tell you what *she had hit him pretty hard, even for a slap. But the fact that it was a slap made it all the more insulting. If she’d have punched him squarely in the face, he could have seen that as a conflict between friends that might require a few blows, then drinks afterwards. The slap though was something reserved for those you wished to discipline, not quarrel with. Discipline him indeed. He turned to look at her. Discipline.* What’s say we talk some more, while we’re on the subject of who’s defending whom? What if I told you I already KNEW about you and the warforged spying on Mekari. Or the fact that you’re the ones who busted into Denieth looking for information on her. Or that I or Mekari could already have turned you in, if that is what I wanted. Or that I could have told the others about you following Mekari on the roof, hm? How about those things!? I could have ratted you out, but I didn’t because I knew you were just snooping on her that night on the roof, following her to find out if she posed a threat... very respectable of you by the way, prowling after a lady in the dark. *he pressed her paper back at her, waiting for her to try and regain herself from his points, and here he would reign triumphant. She penned out with an angry face something, then stopped, and he knew by the look that she’d written something she didn’t want to, and this was promptly followed by her attempting to hide it away so he couldn’t see it. She was strong, but he was quick, and he yanked the page from her hand lightly and swiftly.*
Varro: No no, by all means, we may as well be completely open now about *when his eyes came to the words to read them, his speech and carefully prepared scolding fled him. Instantly, he was made aware of his ignorance as his eyes processed her writing on the paper*
“Not her, YOU! I WAS FOLLOWING YOU!”
*Uxor had been following him? HE was her target? All this time he thought that she’d spent tailing and investigating Mekari, she was actually investigating him? Thoughts raced as he tried to get around this notion. There had to be another answer for it. He put together the string of things related to his observations, and each time he found himself at the conclusion that even if Mekari was a person of suspicion, he too was of the same suspicion in Uxor’s eyes. Wild, livid, painful betrayal was upon him. His eyes came to Uxor like he was looking on all the agents of House Deneith. Perhaps she WAS from House Deneith, and he’d been too stupid to put the pieces together until now. The reason she was snatching the note back was her cover was blown. To think, he’d taken such care in getting Deriaz’s gem safe from Mekari, in watching over her, in putting faith in her and sharing many things in what he thought was utter confidence. . . all of this arrangement shattered like so many stones through glass. Uxor had started to try and write. More lies; something to cover herself with. Here before him stood an agent of the worst kind – an agent that had posed as a friend. He wanted to kill her, and he was very close to laying into her with all the power of magic he had available to him until he could get to a blade. Some small part of him, vain hope perhaps, stayed his full wrath. Maybe there was an explanation? Some chance that she had some other motive, or worked for some other force. Maybe Hope had put her up to it? The thought that she would go against him at the command of Hope, guild leader though Hope was, was just as unsettling. He knew if she didn’t leave now, he was going to harm her though. The more he thought on it, the closer he was coming to that.*
Varro: Get out. Now.
*Uxor tried once more for the paper, and he pinned her in his grip, and she shrank before him. Obviously she knew what she had done. Seeing her cowering there generated mixed feelings of hurt and anger. She KNEW that she was wrong, and that made the matter all the more terrible.*
Varro: No. No talking. I want you gone!
*He forced her back, steering her with her two wrists held in his grasp. His knuckles were white as he clenched the sheet with his other hand, and the two awkwardly crossed the room in this manner. He forced out malevolent talk past biting teeth as he enunciated his points at her. He wanted her out, and gone, immediately.*
Varro: Know that if you ever try to come here again, you’re going to need a lock-pick. My door is closed to you. Now, either through my front door or out my window, I don’t care how you do it, but GET OUT.
*He gave another shove of her wrists and released her, going for his door and pulling it open. She tried once more for paper to write, and he yanked her writing stick from her hand, and hurled it out the door. This act made him cringe a little to himself. To think that their friendship had so come to this moment, that he found himself treating her in this way... he had nothing left but to rage at her* LEAVE!
*When she’d scampered past to the street, and he’d slammed the door on her, he stamped around his house like a maimed wolf, snapping and striking out in his frustration and suffering. How could he have been that stupid? He was that stupid because he had wanted a friend, that’s how. He had allowed her to get close... allowed himself to get close... and Mekari had been right. Varro had been careless. All this work as an ambassador had blinded him to some things. Now he was in a great fix. The fashion show was upon him, his co-worker was an agent of who knew what, and then there was the complication of the guild... and the fact he was still ambassador. Why did all the things of his universe have to collide in such monumentally disastrous ways at all times? He broke at last, collapsing down to the floor, fondling Endaria’s ring that he wore on the smaller of his fingers on his right hand. Angry, bitter, and remorseful tears could not be held back. Before now, he’d stuffed his agony away with drink... then public activity... and ultimately companionship. Now, with that companionship lost, he found he had no one to confide in, and that before at a moment such as this, he would have had his wife for comfort. He did not even have that now.*

Mekari: *she resumed their mental banter* <Look – you have three choices. Move on... tell Uxor what she wants to know... or end it all. You apparently are ill suited to the first. As for the second, you know that by telling her, you put her at risk. And you can act as if you’ve utterly broken ties with her, but I’m a bit more perceptive than that. So I know that despite your anger, you still wouldn’t want things to happen to her. Where does that leave you? I can’t tell you what to do, I can only present what I see. Think on it, but decide soon. It’s pathetic to see you rotting on your feet.> *Mekari turned the glass over on the table.*
*Varro ran his hands over his head, smoothing stray hairs back out of his face, and grumbled. He was particularly irritated that Mekari was making sense for a change. Mad though she was, she had a knack for being startlingly logical now and again... when it amused her to be so.
Sleeping was no comfort. Partying was no distraction. Drinking was temporarily nice, but ultimately no real remedy; when he sobered up again, he would be right back where he started. To top it all off... despite the anger, the hurt, and the wounded pride, he knew that he missed Uxor.*


((-----------Chat Transcript----------))
*Varro was walking across town purposefully. He was not sailing by in his usual manner of speed, and glowering at something. The fashion show had gone well, the party had gone into the hours of the morning, and here he was, stalking about like a wildcat with a thorn in its paw*
*Deriaz walked past him, completely absorbed in his own thoughts. He glanced at Varro once as he walked by, but then stopped. A few seconds later, he took a double take, and realized who he had just passed. He turned around, and ran after the Bard, yelling his name.*
*Varro stopped, and twisted his head around to look back, his body following in turn partly*
*Deriaz saluted once he caught up to the Bard.*
Deriaz: Hey. Just wanted to say, great job at the Fashion Show. Great job putting it together and everything. . . *He trailed off, as if trying to piece together what he was going to say next, without making it come out wrong.*
*Varro turned around fully to face him, seeing that the warforged was intent on conversation. He stared at Deriaz with a look that suggested he was anticipating Deriaz getting to the point of this approach*
Varro: Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself.
Deriaz: I meant to ask you before, but I never got around to it. . . I noticed you were, well. . . You were giving me weird glances before the show. Did you want to ask me something? I mean, I wanted to bring it up before, but I figured with the show about to start and everything, it would be best to wait until later. But then you ran off.
Varro: Now that you mention it, yes I suppose I did want to ask you something *he folded his arms* Tell me something Deriaz...you're good friends with Uxor, yes?
Deriaz: *He looked at Varro in a confused way.* Of course I am. You know that, don't you?
Varro: I assumed so, but I thought I had better ask. Maybe you didn't think of her as highly as she held you *he shrugged a little* but back to my question. What do you suppose would have gotten into her as far as hearing that she's been checking up on her guild mates. Thought maybe you'd have some insight as to why she'd do something like that.
Deriaz: I hold her higher than anyone in this city. . . But. . . *He paused for a second at the question, but tried to cover it up as him thinking on it.* Maybe she was just wanting to get to know everyone more? I mean, she has said she treats you all as family
Varro: *that comment caused him to grin, and chuckle a little, but the laugh definitely was not a humorous one* Family. Yes of course, it is perfectly normal to investigate one's family. Maybe I'm reacting badly, I don't know, but here, I'll ask your opinion. Since you hold her so highly. What would you say if you found out that she was spying on you? Like you were some kind of vial outsider?
Deriaz: *He blinked a few times, and then shook his head.* I guess I would consider it a little odd at first, but would be ok with it if there was a reason behind it. I mean, she's not the kind of person to do something like that without having a **** good reason behind her.
Varro: Even if you were friends? Even if you trusted your life to her? You wouldn't be the slightest bit miffed that she didn't trust you the same way?
Deriaz: Well, sure, I would be a little upset. But come on, you know me Varro. I'm not exactly one to hold a grudge. *He laughed.*
Varro: *He nodded a little* Now let's take this hypothetical scenario a step further. What if you found out that not only was she spying on you, but she'd convinced others to do it too?
Deriaz: *He began to tense up slightly under the torrent of questions.* Well. . . Others? I guess I would think that it was a little more than odd. But, again, if there's a reason behind it. . .
Varro: Put reasons aside for a moment *he brought a hand up to rub at the tuft of hair on his chin* how would you feel?
Deriaz: Reasons aside, then, yes, I would feel a little violated. But it wouldn't be something I would hold a grudge on. I would just shrug it off as, well, something minor.
Varro: And what do you suppose you'd feel towards the people who helped her spy on you, hm?
Deriaz: *He began to think there was a greater meaning to these question than what the Bard was letting off. He shrugged, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.* I dunno. Confusion, I suppose. . . You know, for a hypothetical situation, you sure have put a lot of thought into this.
Varro: Well that's my position - I have to be able to imagine all sorts of things that might not ever happen in my lifetime. But it's always nice to have a fresh prospective. *he rubbed his chin again* Confusion. Interesting....And let us say that all these things were known...how would you confront her about it? And the ones who helped her?
Deriaz: Confront her? Uh. . . Well, I guess I'd just come straight out with it. Ask her why she hired people to help her look into my history. . . *He shook his head.* Look, Varro, am I missing something here? You've never asked questions like this before, and quite frankly, it's making me nervous. Did you hit your head or drink too much or something?
Varro: *he rubbed at his chin and mouth, reflecting on Uxor's strike to his face at their last encounter* I suppose a hit on the head is the case. Sorry to take up so much of your time with my theorizing. You're right. I should just be direct with who ever it was
Deriaz: *The Warforged froze, and eyed Varro.* Be direct with. . . Varro, I thought you said this was hypothetical. . . Now you're sounding like this is a real situation.
Varro: Oh it is...but the sentiments and actions are hypothetical because we were talking about you.
Deriaz: *He shook his head, and began to wonder if Varro was aware of what Uxor and he had been doing.* Well, I mean. . . Just because we're talking about me doesn't mean you have to use them. Just because I said I would be direct doesn't mean you have to. Better to do it in a way that you think is best, not what someone else thinks is best.
Varro: No I rather think in this instance it's better for me to seek outside opinion. My gut reactions are based in emotions right now, and that could prove bad. Things might be said or done that might be regretted later.
Deriaz: *He stared at Varro for a moment more, contemplating what to say next, or just to drop it there. One idea came up, and he decided to take a stab at it. 'Uxor already said she was going to confess to Hope, so I guess it's worth a shot,' he thought. He waited a second more, deciding how to say it, but decided just to throw it out.* Uxor isn't spying on you, is she? I mean, even if she is, what makes you think she has someone with her? *'Not the best way,' he thought, 'but I guess it's too late to take it back now.'*
Varro: *This seemed to catch him off guard slightly. He didn't say anything for a moment, and instead he pulled out something from his garments, and held it out* Her own mouth...figuratively speaking
*the scrap of paper said* "Not her. YOU! I WAS FOLLOWING YOU!"
Deriaz: *He stared at the paper in shock. 'So she went to him as well. . .'* Well, I guess that answers that half of the question. Did she tell you she had help? Or. . . Are you just taking a stab in the dark?
Varro: Just putting pieces together. Mekari said she's had encounters with someone already prying for information. Now this. It's only reasonable to assume that where Uxor has been watching me, so too have her 'assistants'
Deriaz: *He shook his head.* But w-- *He stopped himself, realizing he was thinking out loud. He shrugged it off.* I'm sure she had her reasons. I know, you said put reasons out of mind, but I'm sticking to them. And I'm sure she had her reason for hiring an assistant. . . Did she give you any hint to who she had? *'Walking a thin line. . .' he thought, but he didn't care. He wanted to figure out exactly how much Uxor had said when she went to Varro.*
Varro: Someone she trusted. Which is interesting to me, because here I thought I was the one she trusted.
Deriaz: *He faked a look of thinking.* Well, do you know who all she trusts? Maybe someone from the Fellowship? *<'What are you trying to prove?'> The voice of Ragyr, his other personality, came up, though quiet, in his head.*
Deriaz: <'Just shut up for a minute, alright?> * he shot back.*
Varro: Oh I don't know. I suppose anyone in the fellowship could be counted in among that number. Even you could as well.
Deriaz: *He laughed.* Me? You don't think I would spy on you, do you?
<'Look, what are you trying to get out of him? Just tell me what you want to hear. I'll get it out of him.'> *Ragyr again.*
Deriaz: <'I said shut up, alright? I know what I'm doing.'> *Though in all honesty, he was just pushing the conversation for anything else he could get, and didn't have a real goal in mind.*
Varro: I guess that would come down to how likely I think you would be to do something if Uxor asked it of you. Since you two are friends... and she trusts you...and she might have had a good reason.
*Deriaz decided to prod somewhere else.* Well, I guess you have a point there. . . *He shrugged casually.* So. . . Have you heard about those thieves in House Deneith? Pretty bold of them, you think? *'Not the best transition, but if he takes the bait. . .'*
Varro: I've seen the flyers, yes. But stupid of House Deneith to leave themselves open for it. *he spat the words 'house denieth' practically. Varro had never been overly subtle about his distaste for House Deneith*
Deriaz: *'Hook. . .'* You think they'll catch those two? I mean, though they may be asking for help all over Stormreach, any two who can break into House Deneith and get out without getting captured have to be good at keeping out of sight.
Varro: I think it just depends on the company they keep. If they're smart, they'll stick with folk who aren't likely to just hand them in for the money. I have no great confidence in that House, so you'll forgive me if I don't give the thieves a lot of credit for their accomplishment.
Deriaz: *'Line. . .'* How about that reward they're giving for their capture? I heard about it from Sho. Pretty big amount. . . You think you'd ever turn them in, even if they turned out to be people that you may have known?
'<You're cutting it too close. . .'> *Ragyr laughed.*
Varro: Oh I don't know. Depends on how in need of cash I was. Now that you mention it, after the Fashion Show, my funds have dipped pretty low. It would be a tempting offer.
Deriaz: *'Sinker.'*
<'And what was the point of that?'>* Ragyr sighed*
Deriaz: Even if it was someone close to you? I mean, no matter how much you needed cash, I would hope your friendships and relationships come before mutual needs. . . That's just me though. *He shrugged*.
Ragyr: < 'Duck out now, while you have the chance, D.'>
Deriaz: Well, I should probably leave you to do what you need to do around town. . .
Varro: Well you said someone I know. Knowing and being friends with someone are two different things... apparently.
Deriaz: Well, let's say friends, then. Would you turn them in, then? If they were your friends?
Varro: I suppose it would depend on what kind of friend they were. Though, if they really were my friend and acted the way a friend should, then I wouldn't have any reason to want to do something like that, would I?
Deriaz: *'Not the answer I was expecting, but. . .' He shrugged.* I suppose you have a point, then. Let's go with Uxor. You said she's been spying on you. Would you turn her in for the money, even though you and her are close, but she has been spying on you and Mekari? *He shut his mouth. He heard Ragyr cackling. <'Why did you throw Mekari's name at the end!?'>*
Deriaz: Er, well, just you. Or Mekari. Or anyone in the guild. *'A poor attempt at a save*
Varro: *He stared at Deriaz in disbelief for a moment* I'm sorry, did you really just say that to me?
Deriaz: Well, I mean. . . I. . . Well, let's just say it WAS Uxor. . . And not that, um, Drow on the flyer. Would you? This is complete hypothetical, like you were doing to me earlier. *His mind began to race. 'You idiot. All that work, and now it's about to backfire on you!' He wanted to punch himself.*
Varro: *He just stared at Deriaz in amazement for a moment as Deriaz continued to tunnel his way through the earth. Varro gave a moment before he started his answer* If there were a price on Uxor's head... *he shook his head and looked down at the ground, laughing in an odd sort of way. Somehow Deriaz had said something incredibly funny to him. He put his hands on his hips* Honestly, right now? I don't know any more. There was a time when I could tell you that no, I would never do that to her. But there was also a time when I could tell you that she would never betray me.
Deriaz: Well, if we're speaking in hypothetical terms still. . .*'Don't do it. . .' a voice in his head yelled. His own voice.*
Varro: By all means
Deriaz: And you knew BOTH of the thieves on the flyer. . .
Ragyr: <'DON'T DO IT!'>
Deriaz: Would you turn them BOTH in?
Ragyr: <. . . Idiot.>
Varro: Would depend. Let's see. If it were Uxor and someone else I knew...who *he eyed Deriaz up and down mock studying him* happened to be a masked warforged....I'd have to take a lot into consideration. For instance, what had the masked warforged done to me. Well, if he were offending me, then I'd say probably so - it would be worth the money. However...this would be a favor to House Deneith by doing so. So then I would have to weigh my disdain...*he held his hands out like scales* Which did I hate more... Deneith, or the thieving spies...
Deriaz: Well. . . *He laughed nervously.* How much would you have to hate the thieves to want to actually help Deneith?
Varro: See that's a good question. I mean, getting back to your hypotheticals...
IF it were Uxor, and she had gone and utterly destroyed my sense of trust in her by stabbing me in the heart with treachery... I'd say that'd be pretty good grounds to start forming hatred. Because I don't know about you, but nothing quite makes you feel as good as when someone you saw as your friend...your co-worker...the one you confided in....goes and does something that shatters your sense of trust in other people. Especially after you were reluctant to do so in the first place. Don't you think? *the more he talked, the more biting his words became, and he hit every consonant with pristine pronunciation, making the statement very crisp and vehemently clear*
Deriaz: *'Get yourself out of this hole. . .' he thought to himself.* I suppose you're right. . . Well, I, um, I should probably get going.
Ragyr: <Oh, right, because just dropping it and running doesn't tip him off at all! Maybe you haven't noticed, but you're still in the hole.>
Varro: What's your hurry...have someone you need to check up on?
Deriaz: I, uh. . . No, no one at all. I've just held your attention for quite awhile now. I didn't want you to not have time to, uh, do whatever it is you were heading off to do before I, um, interrupted you. Yeah. . .
Varro: Not at all. I've been a little discombobulated today. I was actually just walking to clear my head. If I had somewhere I was going, you would have had to run a lot faster to catch up with me. So getting back to your question...which I still hadn't answered....
Would I turn them in? Hmm.
*<Smooth, runt> Ragyr's voice echoed in his mind, louder than before. <You really have lost your touch.> Deriaz ignored him, and focused his attention on Varro again.*
Varro: I suppose if I had wanted to do something like that, no matter what she'd done to me, I would have already done it. Maybe she should have taken that into consideration while she was busy lumping me in with the Cults of the city. I guess that would have been logical of her to do. And if I had any intention of ruining her life like she's about to ruin mine, then I'd already have acted on it. Hypothetically speaking of course. But, like you said earlier, maybe she had a good reason. Hypothetically speaking.
Deriaz: Of course. Hypothetical. *He laughed, and tried to hide the nervousness in it.*
Varro: And since we're still talking in hypothetics...no? Here, let me think on this. You say she had a good reason probably? What possible reason is a good reason to betray the trust of your friend?
Deriaz: Well, maybe she did it to keep you safe from something. . .
Varro: Do you suppose she ever once considered that I might not be in any danger in the first place?
Deriaz: Well, maybe she thinks someone is a possible threat to you. . . *Ragyr laughed again. <Nerves getting the best of you? You're not being as careful as you were earlier>*
Varro: So...instead of asking me about it, spying was the ticket then?
Deriaz: Maybe she didn't want to hurt your feelings by asking you straight. Or maybe she was afraid you would have taken it the wrong way. . .
Varro: How good to know how she really feels about me then - that she can't come to me and talk openly with me
Deriaz: *He shrugged."* Well, I mean. . . Um. . . Maybe she was afraid to confront you about it, because. . . Um. . . Because she didn't want you to take it the wrong way.
Varro: And what way could I possible take spying as? *he shook his head* I'm sorry, but I really thought...REALLY thought... there was a certain level of communication we had. Enough that doing something like that would be uncalled for. *it was more apparent now the longer they talked that Varro was talking to Deriaz as if he expected what he said to somehow get back to Uxor*
Deriaz: I. . . I. . . *He sighed.* I don't know what to say. I don't know how Uxor's mind works. . .
Varro: Apparently, neither do I. *he paused, looked at the ground, then refolded his arms* I will level with you Deriaz. Because it's very apparent that you're new to this...ambassadoring... and the ways of word play. So I am going to spare you of it, because you amuse me.
Deriaz: Amuse you? *He stared at Varro for a moment.* . . . I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. . .
Varro: That is a matter of taste, and they are not for dispute. *he refolded his arms* I knew that the two of you were checking up on Mekari. What I DIDN'T know...was that it was also me you were searching on. Tell me, why did she do it?
Deriaz: *He frowned behind the mask.* So, you do know I was the one working with her. . . I can't exactly tell you why she did it. When I offered to sneak-- To look around for information the first time, it was just on Mekari. I don't know the full reason why she would look up you as well, but we did.
Varro: See, I was going to compliment your hypothetical thieves on being sure to cover the head of the forged *he tapped on his own head about where Deriaz's glyph would be* Because anyone who saw that would be certain to identify him by it later...no matter what colors he was painted up in. What reason would she have to look for things on Mekari in the first place. Did she do something to her?
Deriaz: *He shook his head as he said the words 'no matter what colors he was painted up in,' but continued to listen.* Well, she did tell me that just the sight of Mekari scares her. I didn't push it when she brought that up, though.
Varro: So...she's afraid of Mekari...for unknown reasons...and that was good enough to warrant your actions. And hers?
Deriaz: *He shook his head.* No, that wasn't the reason I helped her. I helped her because. . . *He paused.* I helped her because I wanted to. She's my friend. I wasn't going to just let her tell me about Mekari, and then just blow it off, allowing her to do. . . Whatever, on her own. I don't know what warranted her to do what she did. . . But I helped for my own reasons. Fear or not.
*that comment Varro considered for a moment longer than the rest. The expression of contempt that he'd had most of the meeting was softened with a subtle sadness* Thank you for your time Deriaz. *he gave Deriaz a low formal bow*
Deriaz: *He watched the Bard give the bow, and then sighed.* I'm sorry if what we did was rude and rash. But we only had your best interest in mind.
Varro: *He nodded to that, but was only semi-responsive really.* Take care.

((----------End Transcript----------))

*The warforged words with him on the street had struck a cord with him. He remembered what it was like to feel that way about Uxor – a sense that you would do anything to help her. To feel like there was someone who didn’t care about your past, only that you were friends with them in the present. He sat up a little and looked directly at Mekari. He should have known.*
Varro: <You’re such a liar, you know.>
Mekari: *She seemed amused even in thought* <Well I suppose it wasn’t the truth to say I didn’t want anything. I want you out of this fog. If having that silent ice girl around is what it takes to cause that to happen, I will endure her nosing about. Don’t expect me to protect her however. That is a luxury I accord to you alone.>
Varro: <If. IF I did want her back....I don’t see how I’ll get it. Hope’s sent her away, and at this point, something tells me she was all too eager to comply. Patching this over is a bit more complicated than a simple ‘I’m sorry’>
Mekari: <I’ve already planned for such. Do as I say and all will be resolved. I want you to leave for a while. Make yourself scarce, even to your allies.>
Varro: <Absence and the heart, ay?>
Mekari: <I’m not finished. I want you to send her a few gifts. Then all you need do is wait, and leave all else to me. Don’t wait at your home however. Go somewhere you can gather your thoughts.>
Varro: <I guess I’m going to have to wonder as to how you’re going to magically fix this, considering the present animosity everyone has for you?>
Mekari: <Well, do you trust me?>
Varro: <Enough to go along with your crazy headed plan? I suppose.>
Mekari: *she smiled casually at him* <She went to find the dragon you know?>
Varro: *He stood up, pushing the chair back* <What?!>
Mekari: <Well, she’s back now, and you can send her gifts through normal channels. But, do me a favor. Do it anonymously.>
*Varro rubbed the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes in irritation at Mekari’s habit of flippantly changing topics as if they were talking about town gossip.*
Varro: <Now I know you’re lying. She would never seek out...>
Mekari: *she interrupted him promptly* <Unless she really didn’t care what became of herself or not. So if you want this to work, trust me. If you trust me, I want you to come stand over here in front of me.> *she stood from the chair, facing out over the Phoenix from their high platform, with her back to him. He reluctantly went round the table to stand beside her.*
Mekari: <No, here. Face me.>
*Varro rolled his eyes and lurched in front of her, crossing his arms, and facing her.*
Mekari: <Now, I want you to act naturally for me.>
Varro: *He didn’t unfold his arms, but he gave her a broad, forced grin, that was more like bearing his teeth than a true ‘smile.’* <Better?>
Mekari: <Much.> *She gave a thrust at his chest with two stiff arms. Varro fell backwards off the ledge of the platform, grabbing for anything he could as he lost his balance utterly. With alarm, he realized he was plummeting down to the lower levels of the tavern in free fall, with nothing but armor and stone floor to break upon. At first, he wrenched about in the air like a cat trying to land, but having been set sailing backwards into the void, and being rather full of spirits he’d been drinking, he was disoriented. He scrambled to find his spell components to try and cast a feather falling spell, as the bars of the lower level ladder sped by him. There was no time, and he was too ill prepared.
Hard stone slammed against him. He heard things breaking, and due to the sensation of agony resonating through him, he presumed it to be parts of himself. It was quite surreal, at least until the torrents of pain overcame him fully, and his vision went white. He then felt energy being channeled onto him, but the feeling was positive, and he became aware that there were people around him. Someone was healing him. He tried to yell at Mekari, but it came out as a hoarse bark.* You tried to kill me?!
Mekari: *smiling down from far above* <Now who’s the liar? Didn’t you just get done telling me that you’d rather be dead?> *then she said aloud* Remember it well.
*One of the dwarves standing nearby was speaking to Varro* “Easy lad, we’ve got ya.” *the dwarf looked up and cried out* Someone grab that Drow!”
*Varro became aware that hands were on him, lifting him over to stretch out on a nearby table. They were fussing with getting his breastplate off to inspect his injuries. All he could do was glare at Mekari however, with her pleasant smile. Several men were ascending the ramp to the upper platform intent on going after her. The look she shot them paused their pursuit however. They looked between one another with uncertainty, and it was all the more time Mekari needed to make herself disappear. Varro heard one of the folk who tended him cursing* “These spell casters and their teleporting! There outta be a law against it in the walls of the city!”
“Well you can’t trust a Drow neither, outta outlaw them while they’re at it”
“Looks like you’ve smashed yer ribs pretty good lad, and that arm to boot.”
“Just hold still, we’ll take care of ye minstrel.”
*Varro leaned back down to allow them to mend him. He wasn’t certain if Mekari was still maintaining the link with him or not, but he tried anyway.*
Varro: <That... was THE dumbest thing for you to have done on SO many levels.>
Mekari: <On the contrary...> *so she was listening.* <First off, it decides for you your course of action. You really don’t want to die Varro, no matter how miserable you might be. The fact that you tried to save yourself is proof enough. Secondly, since this means you’ll be needing to tell your ‘spy’ the truth, that you take your new found time to think on how and what you tell her.>
Varro: <Well way to do your little experiment in front of an audience. You do realize that once word of this starts getting around, the guild will be calling for your skin. I’m fairly certain that if they didn’t have the motivation to confront you before, that they will now.>
Mekari: <Just let me take care of things and be patient.>
Varro: <And what shall I tell them if Asked, hm? That you were ‘testing’ my will to live? I’m sure that will go over like an airship without an elemental.>
Mekari: <Well you’ll need to leave tonight of course. Don’t bother going back home. If you do as I say, you won’t need to answer any questions. But should you be asked – you tell them the truth. I tried to kill you. It is the truth.>
Varro: <Trust you indeed. You and your plans.> *He got no reply.*

[TreknaQudane]

Storms of Xen'drik: Rain (Part 2)

“No, you walking of tree. I'll nae train you,” the grumbling wizard said for what seemed the tenth time this week. Drenor the wizard, dwarf in service to House Kundarak had enough things to worry about. Especially when the request was to teach a Warforged of magic. Stoically, or perhaps stupidly, his companion, the Warforged followed him along. Looking over his shoulder, Drenor saw Gauche was still beside him and sighed.

“Listen...eh...lad, it's not that I don't want ta help ya, I just don't have the time. I'm busy settin' Kundarak wards as you know and designin' traps. That takes all my time up. Plus I've got to be testin the damned things,” the little wizard explained. Looking about he realized with a start that he'd arrived where he needed be. It was a new construction in the Kundarak ward of Stormreach, an impressive building, if not a bit shoddy, not really good dwarf work, to his sensibilities it appeared something more... Human.

Turning to face the Warforged in front of the building, “Listen, I can see ye have the knack, yer kind were made from magic, its only right. I just can't teach you. I'm sorry. Just... just go away Gauche.”

“Very well Drenor. Thank you for your time and the tour.” Seemingly defeated the warforged gave a curt nod and walked away towards the marketplace of the city.

Muttering to himself about crazy warforged, Drenor watched the living construct leave. “Ah well, “ he thought to himself. “He's got the talent.. .“ Turning towards the door Drenor dropped his hand to his belt pouch for the keys to the door.

Fifty paces off, and after Drenor had stopped looking, Gauche had come to a stop as if expecting the agonized cry that came through the air, "BLASTED WARFORGED!”

Grinning as only a warforged can, Gauche fondled the keys in his hand, excellent Kundarak make, he was sure the wizard would miss them, and ... perhaps... trade for them.


<-Chapter 1-> (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1062201&postcount=23)
<-Chapter 3-> (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1187373&postcount=69)
<-Thelanis Anthology Index-> (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=863569&postcount=1)

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Encounters
Chapter 1


Deriaz sighed, and took a deep breath of air as he left the Phoenix Tavern. The blue Forged’s mind wandered back to what he had done to Points and Liyra back inside—With help from Jaggie, no less. He laughed to himself, and began walking towards the Harbor.

They always said he was different. He didn’t think so. He was a Warforged, no different than the others, wasn’t he?

He passed through a small crowd blocking his path, pardoning himself as he went. No one said a word; he only received odd stares. Normal to him. He continued on, passing through the Harbor gates. Behind him, he heard the sound of footsteps. He shrugged it off, thinking it just to be someone going in the same direction as him.

They always stared oddly at him. He never knew why, but he took it in stride.

Deriaz continued straight through the gate, heading down the large wooden stairs to the Waterworks. He grinned to himself, hearing his Bastard Sword and Tower Shield clank against his body as he went down. As he reached the bottom, the sound of footsteps continued. He shrugged it off again. <Probably just some adventurer heading into the sewers.> He took a left, heading towards his normal spot on the docks.

They always whispered behind his back. He never knew why, but never asked.

Deriaz reached his normal spot, and sighed in relief. He sat down, and stared across the harbor waters; past the shore, past the lighthouse, as far as his eyes could go. The footsteps stopped behind him. A deep voice laughed a moment later.

“What’s the big idea?”

Deriaz turned and stared at the newcomer behind his orange mask. Ragyr, what some would call his alter ego, was standing behind him, arms crossed. The black metal and red eyes seemed to shine a little more in the setting sun. Deriaz’s orange eyes rolled, and he stared back at the water.

“What idea?” he grinned to himself.

He was always took the brunt of the jokes. It never bothered him.

He heard Ragyr step up next to him, and take a seat. “The ticket. To Khorvaire. Have you forgotten the two of us are linked? You didn’t honestly think I was going to ignore something like that, did you? I watched the whole thing.”

Deriaz shrugged. “I have my reasons. The main one, though, was you. You lied to me. . . When I bought the tickets, you said you were going to go out and find jobs—Ones that didn’t involve killing, mind you—In Stormreach to help us out when we landed in Khorvaire. Then I find out you and Sho are working together to kill that Aemilius character? If you ask me, that doesn’t exactly sound like what you were looking for.”

Ragyr stood up. “Well, you know, it’s like they say. “Old habits die hard.””

Deriaz looked up at him in confusion. “Who says that?”

“I dunno. People do.”

“Mmm. People. Right,” Deriaz laughed, and looked back across the water.

“Once I’m done with Sho, he told me he’ll give me more money and power than I can imagine. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll buy you another ticket once I’m done.” Deriaz heard his footsteps. Ragyr was leaving. He sighed.

They always said he was different. . .

“You’re not going to change me, you know that, right?”

Ragyr laughed. “Same to you. Did you ever think I would?” he chuckled lightly to himself as he left.

Deriaz returned to looking out over the water. A large ship was coming in, probably from Khorvaire or somewhere else. He removed the necklace around his neck, and fiddled with the large spearhead of the Silver Flame and the two earrings on it. He felt at home, in his own little world on the harbor dock, until Ragyr’s voice came flooding into his mind.

<It’s like I said before. Leaving is best for you. You only cause problems, remember?> Ragyr laughed.

<Maybe so, but y’know something? That doesn’t mean I can’t make it up to them somehow,> Deriaz sighed. His mind began to wander again, to the events in the Phoenix. More importantly, it fell to one line spoken by Jaggie, when she had brought up the Lord of Blades.

“You’re the only. . . Human Forged I know.”

. . . And for the first time, he was happy for it.

Deriaz’s hand curled around the necklace. He took one long look across the clear water again before putting the necklace back around his neck. He stood up and turned on his heel, running back to the Fellowship guildhall, where he frequently spent his nights. Tonight, he had a crate to unpack.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Encounters, continued
Chapter 1


Deriaz sighed as he collapsed on the bed in the Fellowship guildhall. He turned his head to the left slightly, groaning at the half-emptied crate. He then scanned the walls, feeling a bit satisfied with the plentiful amount of swords standing the corners or hanging on the walls. Deriaz put his hands over his eyes, trying to relax for the moment before getting up to work again. The sound of the guest room door creaking open stopped him for a moment, though.

Ragyr closed the door behind him, his arms crossed. “You’re just trying to make this a lot worse, aren’t you?” Deriaz laughed, taking out one of the Bastard Swords in the crate. He took it over to the corner, letting it stand with another group of them.

He turned, and stared at Ragyr. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he laughed.

Ragyr walked forward, lifting a foot onto the edge of the crate as Deriaz leaned down to grab a second sword. “You know well enough what I’m talking about. Who do you think you are, telling me, of all people, that I’m forbidden to go with Sho? Hm?”

Deriaz looked up at him, mocking confusion in his eyes. “What do you mean, me forbidding you? Didn’t you stand behind me after I told Sho no multiple times?” Ragyr put his foot down.

“Well, sure, but—“

“So if you’re so mad at me, why did you? I was only saying no. You had your own right to completely deny me and go with him. Yet you didn’t.”

Ragyr began to mumble something, but all that came out was nonsense. Deriaz grinned with satisfaction. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, hanging another sword up on the wall.

“Well, uh. . .” Ragyr’s mind raced, trying to think of a comeback. He instead decided to try a change of conversation. “You know, if Sho does bring him—“ he said the word like he was talking about a god “—you’re going to be in a world of trouble for calling him a chump, right? And your personality. . . That’ll make you a mark instantly.”

Deriaz shrugged. “What can I say? I’m just a people magnet.”

Ragyr growled. “Just you wait. Sho will stick by his word. I trust him. And when he comes, I’ll be there to watch you fall!” Ragyr stormed out of the guest room, throwing the door open. Deriaz stared after him for a moment, before shrugging again and continuing on his unpacking.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn VI "Silence" Chapter 1

*The travel on the airship had been one of considerable unpleasentries. Not the ride itself, but the thoughts that were so heavy upon Uxor as she ventured. She had but three days to accomplish what she intended. Would it be enough time before the search started for Varro? While she did not want to leave the city at such a time, the incident in the catacombs had warranted immediate action. After four years spent without any articulate word passing from her lips, in the heat of her emotions, she'd broken her vow of silence. Now there was need to return to her master for guidance, as a fallen pupil. What lay in store for one who had committed such an act was unknown to her. The remainder of the journey was spent scanning the landscape for signs of Varro. It was a slim chance to see him, so high up, but at this rate, any possibility was worth trying. In a way it steadied her nerves as she made passage to the monastery.*

*The other monks of the grounds paid no heed to her as she walked through, other than a kind nod to acknowledge they were aware of her presence. There was no need for such idle banter. Uxor had a purpose, and they too had their own matters to tend. But a civil nod of greeting was polite. Uxor felt as if her appearance marred the monastery; she was a failure in their teachings.

*When Uxor's eyes came upon her master, she knelt down dejectedly, preparing to utter of her failure to follow in his teachings. Before she was able to speak, he raised a hand, kneeling in front of her*
"Be at peace maiden of ice, and we will work through your struggle to regain your path. Fear no confession to me of your having spoken.
*Uxor batted her eyes in astonishment of her master's kind... and accurate... words.* "How do you know this?"
"You are not the first student to come to me, looking as you do. You might consider yourself to appear before me in failing, but even now, your silence speaks louder than any words you were preparing for me. There is no purpose in lamenting for our actions, which belong to the past... even as we do them. Therefor, it is right for us to instead reflect purposefully on the past, and consider those actions we are yet to make. The past touches only then with influence, if we are wise enough to heed the lessons learned. Tell me not of short comings Uxor, tell me of the lessons.
*Uxor recounted all the events that had befallen her since her departure from the monastery. The telling was long... and awkward for her. Back when she had been screaming at Ragyr, she had been so caught up in the surging feelings, that she hadn't paid any attention to how strange it was to speak again. Now, in a less heated state, her master's attentive - but silent - consideration seemed to emphasis how odd it was to hear her voice telling of these things.
When she came to the most recent events... the appearance of Mekari... her falling out with Varro... the trouble of Ragyr and Deriaz... and her ultimate breaking of her vow, she wept openly, struggling for calm to form the story for him. At last the telling was complete* "Master, I am at a loss of what to do now. Am I going mad? I came to you because I realize the full weight of your teachings, and that I am still ignorant to them. My broken vow is proof of this. I don't know what to say, to do... all I know is I am in need of your guidance. *she bowed her head abjectly to him*
*He smiled softly at her* Is this your conclusion? Very well. You cannot find your path without knowing the ways you have come before. Seeing them is not enough. What you have told me is this 'seeing,' but now I will help you to 'know' your journey. Each footfall will be addressed. *he folded his hands on his lap and stoically, but gently, asked questions of her* "Why do you fear this Mekari?"
*Uxor was caught off guard somewhat by the question, not having expected this to be the first thing deliberated* "I don't know. It is a feeling I have when I look at her, or when I am aware she is near. Or even times when she is close at hand, but I'm not yet aware. The feeling comes, and I must work to suppress it. But I have no answer for why."
"Have you felt this of any others before?"
"Yes. In a way. I have similar sentiments whenever I reflect on my time as a slave under the Vissui."
"You are ashamed of this fear."
"Yes. I am always ashamed when my fears hinder my actions in times of need."
"How do you over come it?"
"I meditate on what will happen to others if I should surrender to my fears."
"This is a lesson well learned maiden, but you must also not be downcast on yourself for feeling these fears. While to be held with its power is detrimental, I ask you to consider what would have happened if you had not experienced this sensation. This Mekari would have acted unchecked and unsuspected, quite possibly accelerating whatever plan was afoot. Your account biases me, as I have no point of view otherwise to advise with, but much of your experiences reflect poorly on that stranger's character and morality. So take heart, knowing that fear can act as warning. Through it, this person will be hard pressed to come upon you without your knowledge, no matter what appearance she takes."
*Uxor had not considered it in that light. In fact, she'd been so busy trying to out think the feelings, that she had numbed herself to when they were NOT present. Her master was not finished with her however, and he continued...*
"Tell me of breaking your vow. When did you feel yourself let go of the oath? What were you thinking of in that moment?"
"I was thinking of Deriaz. I thought Ragyr was behind his death just to save his own skin. So I hit him. I just wanted him to be quiet, out of respect at least. But Ragyr wouldn't. I was so angry with him. I would have beaten him to death if Sho and the silverflame brother had not fended me off him. It was like once the gates of my thoughts were open, it just kept rushing out. I... wanted him to feel as bad as I felt. I was wrong."
"Some say half of the truth is still a lie, Uxor. Tell me the rest."
*Her pale skin warmed slightly in the face. How her teacher was so perceptive of her would always be a mystery. She wondered often if one day she would infer of others in this way* "Varro was gone. Very possibly, he was dead. Imagining bad things befalling my best friends is one thing... seeing it happen, an entirely and utterly horrible experience..."
"Why do you hesitate to speak about him?"
*Again she became quiet, the tone of her face now more akin to a pale one who got little sun, rather than a snowy white corpse's complexion. She felt her face flush at his direct questions* "Because I don't know that it is right of me to feel as I do."
"Why?"
*Uxor flushed more at the question, sitting up straight, but casting her eyes away* "Because my feelings are not appropriate."
"He has told you this?"
"It is not anything he's said, it is what I know. We work together... he is a widower... I was friends with his late wife even. Duty outweighs any personal desires." *she recited his teachings* "you say 'suffering is caused by desire, and the inability to obtain desires. Rid yourself of desire, and there can be no suffering.'"
"Guilt."
*She almost shrank down at the mere sound of him speaking the word. How unnerving it was that her teacher could see into her so accurately. Of course, briefly she reflected on the notion that, if he could not do such, he would be no master* "It is not fair to Endaria to feel like this."
*Her master's brows softened more so, and his stoic expression gentled some* "I cannot advise you in this matter, maiden. Other than to say this: You speak of ridding yourself of desire. In this instance, how you would achieve this is one of two paths. Confrontation, or stop having want for him. I must say though, it is no small matter that causes someone to turn from a vow they've so held to for years. "
"I let my emotions outweigh my sensibilities, Master. It's as if I were going mad. I could never have acted such a way before. If you had told me it would happen in the way that it did, I would not have believed you. Until now. But why or how is irrelevant. My vow is broken, and I come to you for guidance. What recourse do I have?"
"Renew your vow."
*The promptness of his reply caused her to stammer* "Re...renew it? Master, I don't understand. What is the purpose of taking a vow, if one can simply break it and return to it after?"
"Maiden, what is the purpose of taking a vow, if one can take the easy way out by breaking it and being then free of it? Uxor, you chose this path of self discovery. You speak still of inner turmoil and confusion, and so you have much to learn still. You are as yet a tiny seedling, struggling to fully take root in the world around you. Do you understand this?"
*She nodded quietly, and bowed her head.*
* He chuckled softly at her a moment, whereat she looked up to him puzzled as he muttered* "A seedling" *then he continued to explain* "It is not so easy as to simply resume your silence now. Know that if you wish to continue the vow, there are consequences. I praise you if - after hearing what you must endure - you chose to continue your vow regardless of what comes. Many students do not return to me to seek guidance when they have strayed. Fewer still are truly committed to their enlightenment enough to face what consequences await for their actions. One day, when you are no longer enshrouded by the dark mist of confusion, which clouds judgement, you will find peace and freedom from your service of oath."
"I understand, Master." *she awaited his instruction*
*He nodded low, acknowledging her decision* "You will again undergo the ritual of the severed song. As you are aware by now, there are magics of the world around you with the capacity to undo the permanence of the ritual. Should you come under the influence of such powerful healing magic, then the true test of your commitment to silence is at hand."
*she listened with a nostalgic sense. Such things had been described to her when first she decided to take the oath. It was the remainder of her master's words that she patiently, but curiously, awaited.*
"How well you now know the challenge of self discipline, Maiden. I see you have removed your marks." *he touched the edges of her ears, where the silver rings used to cling.* "What has become of them?"
"I had intended to give them to my two friends... a keepsake to remind me of the day I fell away from my path."
*Again the soft smile graced her master's expression.* Well, you are in need of retrieving them. I hope your friends are able to be contacted. *his face became serious once more, neither condemning nor empathetic. It simply...was.* "You will continue to mark the anniversaries of your devotion, but now you are to bear a new tribute. For each time you turn against your vow, you are to mark the occurrence by returning here to be branded. Should you fail to return here for this, you are to mark yourself. Furthermore, when you renew your vow, you will perform the severing of song with your own hands. Do you understand that which I speak of, Maiden of Ice?"
*There could be no arguing the matter. This was how it was done. Though the gravity of having to commit the ritual herself was enough to push her current worries from her mind. After a moment, she responded.* "I understand. I will perform the severing of song, by my hand, and be subjected to that which is required by the brothers to atone for my wandering off the path to my enlightenment." *and she bowed low, preparing for the ordeal to come. Three days. She had three days to perform the ritual, recover, and return for the search. She tried to focus very hard on becoming ready for the task.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn VII "Ice and Fire" Chapter 1

((Takes place after the search for Varro, and the point at which Varro and Uxor come upon each other outside the Phoenix. After Sho reintroduces himself to the guild, Varro requests for Uxor to come talk with him))

*There was a certain amount of joy she felt, to offset the awkward lack of conversation between them, as Uxor walked alongside Varro through the streets. Seeing that he was alive and well was comforting. He'd said nothing further since requesting her to walk with him, and she in turn wrote nothing. Instead, she basked in the knowledge that despite her most stupid of actions...
despite all the doubts...
despite Mekari's malicious deceptions...
he was safe.
They arrived at his porch, and Uxor hesitated to follow him up the stairs. Varro stopped and looked over his shoulder at her, as she stood uncertainly at the bottom step. He spoke again, but still in their coded language of Auren and Quori.*
Varro: [I know what I said before, but I'm asking you to come in.]
*Thoughts of his command to her to be gone were fresh in her mind, but that was not her only reason to pause. Momentarily, she questioned if it really were him, or if it were a trap waiting inside. Then she remembered the words of her master, and she noted no overpowering feeling of fear - other than her own nervousness at what conversation was in store. He stood holding the door open to her, and waved a hand to encourage her to come up. He couldn't blame her entirely for not trusting his intentions*
Varro: [Enter. Please.]
*Uxor collected her willpower, and slowly made her way into Varro's home.*
*Once inside, Uxor cautiously looked round, inching towards the chair and table in the front room. Meanwhile, Varro closed the door behind them. He then walked to his bedroom, peered in, and closed the door. The same was done in the guest bedroom. Not entirely certain of his purpose, Uxor waited for him to indicate that she was to sit. He walked towards her at the table, pulled out a scroll, and held out his hand. When she tried to take a seat, he motioned for her to stop*
Varro: [No, not that. I want you to hold onto me.] *he held out his hand again. Getting up from the chair, she angled her head, not understanding him. Uxor pulled out her own scrolls. Initially she thought he'd gotten his scroll out for her to write on, but that was not the case apparently. Very briefly her eyes roamed to the scroll on the table to try and gather the context of it. She meanwhile wrote out* "Hold onto you? Why?"
Varro: [I don't expect you to know why, or even to be agreeable about this. Just please hold onto me. I will explain afterwards, alright? I wouldn't do this if it weren't necessary.]
*Teleport. She recognized the symbols, though she had no way of using such a scroll herself. Her stance went a little defensive, and Varro followed her gaze to the scroll on the table.*
Varro: [I'm not trying anything underhanded Uxor. Here, look ... if you're worried, touch my face. It's me.] *He held his chin up, awaiting to be prodded and poked, as seemed to be the custom of about half the city of late* [If you don't believe me - which you rightly should not - check for yourself.]
*Uxor reached out and yanked upon the hair on his chin, plucking a few strands out.*
Varro: OW! What in the name of all gods?! *his hands flew up to nurse the irritation of his soul patch being disrupted.* I said TOUCH not wound! It's bad enough you've got the entire town in an uproar so that I endure my face being handled like a carnival petting exhibit.
*Uxor was relieved by that reaction. At least he sounded to be in his usual mood.* "Sorry" *she wrote* "I just don't understand."
*He reverted back to their code speak*
Varro: [Look, if I tell you now, it would negate my reasons for doing it in the first place. I'm trying to help, and right now what we need is...]
*he considered a moment, before motioning for her writing stick. Knowing no other way of getting answers, but also knowing how much easier it was to bluff in writing, reluctantly she handed it over.*
Varro: [What we need is this] *and he wrote the word "privacy."*
*They volleyed the writing stick then. How odd it was that he couldn't just say what he meant in their private language, and it worried her.*
Uxor: "Why are you writing?"
Varro: "Because I can't take the chance of being overheard"
Uxor: "Could we not just write entirely then?"
Varro: "That is your speciality, not mine. I will say that you will thank me afterwards, alright? Let's not give her any more time to catch onto my intent." *again, he held out his hand to Uxor.*
*"Her." Uxor had a sudden understanding of whom he was meaning. Granted, it only added more riddles to her already confused mind, but she knew that at last, there was a possibility for answers. On this hope, and the hope that Varro was willing to be reasonable with her, she took his hand.*
*When her eyes refocused, and the world steadied under her feet again, she saw they were in a strange stone hall she'd never been in before. She was about to set to questions, when a white doorway shimmered into existence in front of them. Varro motioned for her to walk towards it, but she recoiled her neck, liking this even less than the teleport.*
Varro: [Here, I'll go first. I promise it's not going to hurt you.]
*She wrinkled her nose, once more turning to her parchment to write* "I know what a Dim Door is Varro, I'm not just an ignorant meat shield for you magic wielders. I just want to know where you are taking me before I leap blindly through."
*He folded his arms across his chest, looking down in thought* Fair enough. I'd be the same way after what's gone on. *He stepped towards the doorway* [If you want to work past this... if you want your explanations... then you'll come through the door. But, I won't force you to. I'll be on the other side waiting.] *and his figure was consumed by the white light of the door as he stepped back through it.*
*Uxor glowered at the door. There was no way to know where it was open to. There was also limited time to decide. If she didn't go through, and the door closed, then so too closed the possibility of reconciliation between them. This she could not allow, not after all she'd come to see and know. One way or another, going forward would give her answers, for good or ill. This did not mean she had to walk like a lamb to the slaughter however, and so she kept her arm upon the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it if need arose, as she passed through the door.*
*The vastness of the space, compared with the stuffy stone hall she'd departed, caused her to immediately draw blade. She was out in the open, thus anything from any direction could come for her. The air was hot, and it was very bright around her. The ground under her feet was unstable, and so she braced herself. Her eyes were trying to adjust to the surroundings, as she whirled to face a voice talking close by*
Easy, easy, you're safe Uxor! I told you nothing will hurt you! For the love of all gods, don't slash me!
*Focus came then on a form that was Varro, who had his arms before him, shielding from any impending strike. Everything was so bright. At last her eyes adjusted fully to the place, and she saw broad, flat open sands, with hills beyond. It very much looked the picture of 'the middle of nowhere.' Another large shape, which she'd taken to be a threat initially, turned out to be a scrappy tree, clinging to life on the open plain. Uxor sheathed her blade, but her expression was unmistakably clear. Explanation was needed.*
Varro: I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you where we were going. Then she'd follow. AT least this way, it will take her time to figure out I'm gone, and even more to know where. More over, in this place, if she were invisible I could STILL see her coming. *He kicked at the sands under their feet.* Invisible she could do... traceless, she could not.
*Uxor mouthed the word 'Mekari,' to which he nodded*
Varro: Our private speech works well, but she is fluent enough in Quori to gather context from our talk unfortunately. If you and I are to have words, I needed to take us somewhere away from prying eyes - utterly. Somewhere that was easy to keep an eye on.
*Uxor had already started to write a bit on the page, but Varro interrupted her*
Varro: First thing's first, we're not going to stand here in the blazing sun. We're also not going to stand. *he went over to the small tree, gesturing for her to follow. From his pack, he pulled out two cloaks and a robe, spreading them on the sands*
Varro: Not quite a chair, but better than working sand into that armor, no?
*Uxor came over to situate herself on one of the cloaks. The little tree, sparse as it was, still managed to soften the directness of the sun's rays.*
*She finished what she'd started to write, and he didn't interrupt her. The page bled with question marks. She handed him the page* "What is going on? Who is Mekari, what does she want, and why did she tell me that she killed you? More over, I know what you told them, but where have you been? What is it she doesn't want us to find out? Is she behind Endaria's death? WHAT is she? Why does she wear that disguise? Why are you hiding from her too? *she would have written more, but realized in just those lines much was there for him to answer. He read over the page entirely before he spoke.*
Varro: I will answer any questions you like Uxor, so long as you first answer a question of mine about you. If you can answer me truthfully, then I will speak of it all. At length. No secrets, no half truths, and no semantics. Agreed?
*So much he asked of her before giving back, but this was his way. He knew he could trust her word, while she was hesitant to admit the same towards him. Still feeling no surge of fear, she nodded agreeably.*
Varro: Good. Now... I was told that you are, in point of fact, able to speak? That you have spoken even in my absence?
*To this she nodded. Not proudly, but those were facts. Mostly.*
Varro: Then why aren't you speaking now?
Uxor: *she wrote on a fresh side of her paper* "Because I can't. It's hard to explain, but it's a physical reason."
Varro: Then explain, and tell me the reason.
Uxor: *she tried to think of how to tactfully ... or even sensibly... explain what he was asking of her* "I do not speak, because that was my choice. I took an oath to silence, for self enlightenment. I broke that oath while you were away, and I returned to my master to receive punishment. The reason I cannot talk is because I have not fully healed. Even if I WANTED to break my oath right now Varro, I cannot."
Varro: What was the punishment?
Uxor: "It is not the punishment that prevents it, it is the vow. At onset of taking the vow, a severing of song is performed.' *she patted her throat.* "but this time, since I had broken the vow, I had to perform the severing of song on myself."
Varro: You...cut off your own tongue?
*She shook her head 'no'* "The tongue is not the origin of song, you above all people know that Varro. It is only a tool to shape that which comes from out the throat."
*Varro shuttered visibly at that notion. Either her vocal cords, or her voice box entirely, either notion made his skin crawl.* Sorry, I just.... can't imagine going through life without that. Much less doing that to myself.
Uxor: "I don't expect you to understand. This was my choice. There is magic that can restore the damage, as I encountered in my ventures over time. But this does not relieve me of my vow. It merely tests my devotion. So yes, I spoke. And now no, I cannot...lest someone use magic to regenerate that which is severed. Even then, I would not speak. It is not yet time for that." *In truth, resuming writing was difficult. In only that short time of speaking once more, it was so easy to revert to trying to form speech again, but the sound dead in her throat was a harsh reminder.*
Varro: Why take such a vow in the first place? I've never asked before, but since I'm about to lay all in the open for you, I felt I should at least be permitted that.
*Uxor nodded to that notion* "I needed direction and discipline in my life when I was freed of slavery. I had to learn that there are ways to be heard without need to speak. It is a true test of self discipline, and an experience to learn intimately of yourself. One day, when I understand and find that which I seek, I will be free of the service to my vow."
Varro: Understood...somewhat. Can't say I completely agree with that, as I find writing or singing to be a far better exercise in self discovery, but matters of taste are not for dispute. I will answer you as promised....where to start...
I suppose that I should start off with warning for you. The more I tell you, the more likely it is that you are entangled deeper in my affairs. This could be dangerous. It seems if we're to continue working together though, that we're going to have to trust each other. So know that I'm telling you as a show of good faith, not to try and catch you up in danger. If I can avoid bringing harm to you by leaving certain details out, then I will. But that is your call.
*She considered his words a moment, then wrote* "Lucian, you don't have to hide anything from me anymore. I know about the sword. I've learned a portion of Mekari's involvement with you. I just want to hear the truth from you directly."
*Varro furrowed his brow at the note when she handed it to him. This was followed immediately by an outburst of laughter from him, enough so that he rolled onto his back, gasping for air. Uxor slouched a little, not understanding his reaction in the least. He calmed himself enough to speak* I'm sorry but... This *he gestured to the paper* This is what you really think?
*When she nodded most seriously a 'yes,' he chuckled still* Amazing. The man can still worm his way into my life for influence, even in death. Uxor, why would you think that I am "Lucian?" Who told you that, Mekari?
*She motioned for the paper back as she shook her head 'no'* "I saw your portrait in the archives, when we were researching Mekari."
Varro: I can see how you might think so then. Well, you've decided for me which of the questions to answer first. You've been trying to force the pieces of a puzzle into alignment. You have the right pieces, just the wrong picture you're trying to match them to. You didn't see my portrait in your snooping. That was the late Lucian d'Deneith. I look more like him than Mekari. But if you ever saw her face, and stopped to consider, not all of my features are Lucian's.
*Uxor was speechless - and more than merely by the oath. The image of Mekari's true face was unmistakably burned into her memory, and now she could see what she hadn't noticed before:
How fair skinned Varro was; how blue his eyes were; how lanky he was; how graceful. With a good deal of uncertainly, she wrote the word* "Parents?"
Varro: Unfortunately, yes.
Uxor: "You're a" *she paused* "Deneith noble??"
Varro: No. *he held out a stern finger* There is a distinct difference between being a noble, and merely being born of one. Especially in the eyes of a House.
Uxor: "That is why you hate them? House D?"
Varro: No to that as well Uxor. I do have quite the resentment in that regard, but my reasons are more complex than that.
Uxor: "I don't understand. In fact, I feel more confused now than if you'd not told me. If Mekari is your mother, why is she after you? Why are you hiding from her? Why did she tell me she killed you??"
Varro: Because, she's utterly and completely insane. I don't mean that jokingly, sarcastically, or even condescendingly. She really IS mad. Unfortunately, in a wise way. Granted I didn't know what her entire plan was, and it's always pointless to second guess it, but I have to admit, it did get you to talk to me.
*Uxor nearly socked him in the arm at hearing that, instead forcing her effort to pen* "YOU KNEW? You knew the whole time? I was worried sick! I had the whole city combing the waterworks for your body!!"
Varro: Look, I said she is insane. I didn't 'know' what she was up to, only that she had a plan. I wanted to find a way for us to start talking again. I couldn't really figure out how that was going to happen. So Mekari had an idea of how to force us to talk apparently. She just doesn't think of things in terms of sensible. To her, the ends always justify the means... but she's usually correct in her planning, even if it is outlandish. Having the whole fellowship trying to skin her alive was of little concern to her, compared to getting me out of my fog. If it makes you feel better, to prove to me that I still have the will to live, she tried to kill me to see if I'd actually try and save myself.
Uxor: "That is absurd! You mean to tell me your own mother does such things, but in your interest. That's like saying...I can't even think of anything it compares to but... she's your mother Varro!"
Varro: Uxor, what is your favorite belonging? Something you cherish... that you'd never leave it behind or wish to see damaged. Consider that this is still just an object. Property. That is what I am to Mekari. I am her prize. Her valuable gem. But you could not say that you 'loved' your item, any more than you can say that my mother has 'love' for me as a traditional mother would. That is the reach of her insanity. You say she is out to get me? No. She is here to watch over her item. She loves me like a child loves a purely bred pet. Anything that threatens something that pleases her she will not stand for. Hence her insistence on being involved in my life, whether I want her here or not. She is not so forceful as to try and steer me directly. Her preference is to influence in other ways than to merely tell me what to do.
Uxor: "If she is your mother, are you a....whichever of the things she is?"
Varro: Me? No, I'm afraid I am but a mere mortal man Uxor, and very much of this plane fully, if that is what you imply, as was my father.
Uxor: "So you mean to tell me that Mekari came all the way here, risked everything she has, just so she could play babysitter to you?"
Varro: If it makes no sense, then yes, I'd say that's an accurate description of her motives. Though only in part. There is some reason for her to be here , I just have no idea what it is. She never tells me. Probably better that way.
Uxor: "Is she dangerous? I could say much of what she's done has been in self defense but, is she dangerous on her own?"
Varro: Yes. Most certainly she is. If it suits her larger picture, she will sacrifice you. The danger is knowing her. With the exception of me. Again, I am her prize. That is why I've kept you so in the dark. I didn't want her to find a plan for you. Apparently she did anyway. I have to ask though Uxor, why are you so afraid of her? Did she do something to you?
*She shook her head* "I just feel that way when I see her. I think it has something to do with what was done to me to take my memories perhaps? I just am overcome by feelings of fear when I see her. From the first time I saw her, when she came into the guildhall even."
Varro: So that's what's got you acting all stupid of late?
*She wrinkled her nose at him* "I am not acting 'stupid' I was being concerned. Some stranger that paralyzes me with fear shows up, and you walk down the street with them as if they're your best friend"
Varro: You mean as if they were my mother *he crossed his arms*
Uxor: "That's not the point! I was watching out for you."
Varro: What is it that has you thinking you always need to 'watch' me? If I was in danger, I would have said something or made a signal or... something. Instead, you took it in your own hands to act like my guardian in matters that were way outside your expertise.
Uxor: "That's not it. I was" *she huffed, trying to think of what to write.*
Varro: You were what? What rational was there in that? You didn't ask me how I felt. Didn't bother to approach me directly about the matter. Didn't even consider that things might not be as they appear. So what were you that possibly instills that sort of breakdown in our communication levels Uxor?
*Cold. It was the most immediate sensation he was able to perceive when he found she was pressing her lips to his. Whatever further banter he had prepared vanished abruptly. The motion was quick, and still. As quickly as it had happened, she had pulled back, and was staring down at her paper in her lap*
*Uxor just couldn't think of any words to write that would explain to him what it was that was causing her to be as she was. Her mind had gone to the teachings of her master - that there were some things that expressed better than any words. She glanced up at Varro.*
*The figurative mask that Varro wore, to shield the outside world from gleaning his real sentiments on matters... a diplomatic tactic... was utterly shattered. He stared at her with either surprise or shock, openly and without acting. He was always acting, even in his most emotional moments. This look was almost worse to her than the look she recalled when he'd been irate with her in his home. This had been a mistake. Back down to her paper her eyes fell, and she wrote* "I'm sorry. I should not have done that. My feelings are inap"
*His mouth was so warm. She was met with the heat of it as he stilled her writing with one hand, and used his other hand to pull her head and face towards his, deeply and fully kissing her. At first, she almost jerked back from it. She felt her face flush from chill to almost luke warm now, all the while marveling at just how heated his tongue felt. The parchment and writing stick fell away from her grip, and she allowed the sensations to consume more of her senses. There was something so... recognizable about the act; some distant feeling of familiarity as she worked her mouth against his. The dejavu passed away from her focus, and now she let the passion take hold of her. She had longed for this, and the part of her rational that had stuffed the yearning away was pushed blatantly aside. There was only now. The want of him. There was only desire. Desire.
Desire for things we cannot attain, she heard herself say. Or was it her master's voice saying it? Desire caused suffering; rid yourself of desire, and you rid yourself of suffering. What was she doing?*
*In a panic over what was happening, Uxor pulled back from him, breaking off the kiss, groping for her papers. She kept shaking her head 'no.' Varro opened his eyes and furrowed his brows, gasping now for air for a different reason than laughing at her*
Varro: What?
Uxor: *she finally managed to get him clear of her enough to write* "This is wrong. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. This is wrong."

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 2
Identity Theft


Deriaz took the stairs down to the Harbor two at a time. In his hand, he held a rather large Longbow. It looked to be designed to be used by a Warforged, but Deriaz was known to not be the best at ranged combat. On his back was a quiver as well, looking to be filled with about twenty arrows.

He jumped the last twelve steps, hitting the ground and tumbling, but continued on. He passed by the Waterworks, and took a left down towards the Harbor docks. A large ship was just setting out, and a green Warforged sat alone, watching it go.

Ranux.

Deriaz quickened his pace, and looked around before approaching him. No one around. <Good,> he thought to himself, <no one to eavesdrop.> He stopped, regained his composure, and walked casually up to the Warforged.

Ranux turned upon hearing the steps. He grinned, and clapped as Deriaz stopped and saluted. His light green eyes fell to the Longbow, and he looked back up at the taller Forged.

Deriaz shook his head. "I'll explain that later. First things first: You're sure you want to do this?"

Ranux nodded. "Of course I do! I can't stand working for this fool anymore! He treats me like dirt, and I never get any breaks, and--"

Deriaz held up his free hand, stopping him. "Alright, alright, fine. I'll get you out of here, then. . . I'm just worried that if I "kidnap" you, in a sense, I'll be charged with robbery if I'm discovered. The last thing I need is more trouble, or hell, a second bounty on my head."

Ranux shook his head. "Come on, please? You've gotta help a Forged out, here!"

Deriaz gave a deep sigh. "Fine. But if we're going to do this," he held out the Longbow to Ranux, "you're going to need to hold on to this."

Ranux looked up at him, confused. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

"That's not good enough, Der."

Deriaz gave a deep, growl-like laugh. "Look, if I'm going to sneak you out of the Harbor, I'm not just going to have you looking like the stereotypical Harbor worker. We're going to show you off as an adventurer, alright?"

Ranux's eyes lit up. "Adventurer? Me?"

Deriaz nodded. "You have any skills at all? If we're going to pull this off, it may help to know what you're good at, so we can use that to our advantage if anyone questions us."

Ranux grinned. "You've already nailed it. I'm pretty decent with a bow. It's what I used to do in my free time, before my boss-- Master, really-- started working me this hard."

Deriaz reached behind him, pulling the quiver off of his back. He handed it to Ranux. "Good, cause I don't have the money to buy much else."

Ranux gladly took the quiver, and strapped it to his own back. He took a step around Deriaz. "Shall we be going, then?"

Deriaz frowned. "Actually. . . Uhmm. . . See, that's the thing. Hide that bow and quiver for awhile. I can't hide you in my guest room at the Fellowship guild hall. I'm going to need to ask Hope or someone if I can borrow a second room to hide you out in, in case someone finds out I was the one who took you, or they question me."

Ranux sighed lightly. "Ok, sure. I got a pretty good hiding spot. Just promise me you won't take forever? I don't like this guy. . . I want to be rid of him."

Deriaz laughed again, and nodded. "Don't worry. I'll be sure to get a second room as soon as possible." With that, he saluted again, and ran off back towards the Fellowship guild hall.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn VII "Ice and Fire" Chapter 2

Varro: Wrong... *he sat up a little* As in to say because of who we are, or because it is not what you want?
*Uxor grimaced at the question. The trouble was she wanted it too badly. There was so much difficulty in explaining this to him.* "It's not proper or fair. Besides, it's not about what I do or do not want. It is about what is right."
*He read her words, coming to steady his breathing again. After a moment, he reached out to tip her face back to looking at him. Until that moment, she hadn't realized that her gaze had been fixed upon the paper in her lap. Reluctantly she looked back to the bard, feeling his eyes searching hers for something*
Varro: Are you happy?
*Her brows worked together, and she tried to look down to write a reply, but he kept his fingers gingerly beneath her chin, preventing her from doing so.*
Varro: It is not a complicated answer I need, Uxor. Yes or no... are you happy?
*She shook her head 'no.'*
Varro: And did you feel unhappy doing that just now?
*Visibly she protested with her expression. The questions were not as simple as yes or no.*
Varro: I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that was unpleasant for you.
*She tried to look down again, but this time he leaned towards her, still catching her by the chin with his fingers. His nose brushed hers slightly, and she could all but sense the narrow distance between their lips. He remained there, and Uxor continued to try and stuff her feelings back behind that logical part of herself. The alluring warmth of his breath was muddling her efforts to suppress her quickened heart rate. Still he hovered, until she felt the slightest brush of the air against, as he spoke very softly. It was as if his words carressed her lips as he formed them.*
Varro: Tell me that this is not what you want. Forget what is 'right,' and tell me if you felt nothing. If you feel nothing now. I need you to show me this is not what you desire.
*Uxor had her eyes closed to try and focus on making her hands function. She couldn't see what she wrote, but painstakingly she scratched something out. He glanced down slowly to read it, still perilously close to her.*
Uxor: "Suffering is caused by desire for things we cannot have."
*He withdrew his fingers from beneath her chin.*
Varro: Well... then have me.
*Varro shut his eyes involuntarily at the exhilarating feel of coolness, as Uxor took his face in her hands, and gave into her passions. It felt good to be desired again. Behind her kiss, he could feel the yearning that drove her to nearly overwhelm him with her attentions - as if at any moment, he would dematerialize from her, and she was getting in all that she could now, while there was still time. He reveled in it. Many lips before had his graced in his time, but this was truly exotic to him. The chill of her, which slowly seemed to be coming to thaw a bit, only made it that much more thrilling. Dimly as he enjoyed, his mind picked over the situation. So this was what had been the matter with her. Though, if she wanted him so badly, why did she say nothing of it before? This brought him to recall her statement moments ago... that this was 'wrong.' Now it was Varro who broke from their kiss.*
Varro: I'm...glad we had this talk. *he grinned a bit, still savoring the return to physical attentions once more.* Now, who told you that you can't do this? Mekari? As I said before, put no weight in anything she says.
*Uxor also seemed to be regathering her composure, and he could see her scolding herself for their exchanges. To her writing she turned once more, now that he was permitting her the chance to explain at length.*
Uxor: "Mekari said nothing to me. This is just what I know. It doesn't matter what I want, it's the principle of things. You're still in mourning Varro, and this... this dishonors Endaria's memory." *she paused and her lips pressed with shame* "I dishonor her memory. This isn't fair to you."
Varro: I see. *he rubbed at the tuft of hair on his chin* So you're a better judge of what is fair to me than I am?
Uxor: "It's not like that. I only want to be a good friend to you. This is not being a good friend. This is me being selfish. I wanted to be truthful with you, but I don't want that to compromise your well being."
*He seemed to find something amusing, and sighed slightly*
Varro: I am tired of sulking Uxor. What's more, if this is something that makes you happy, and I'm uplifted by it, what its the harm in it? I don't need you to love me. I just simply need you to... be. Don't we deserve to be something other than miserable for a while, the two of us? I think we've endured both our shares of hardship, irritation, and pain. Besides, it's a good match... you want me, and I am rebounding. More perfect circumstances could not be asked for to suit our moods.
Uxor: "Varro that's absurd! You're suggesting that I should... use you? That we're to 'use' each other to find comfort? You're just upset. This was a very poor decision on my part."
Varro: On the contrary, this is the best news I've had for some time. I know I spoke a little rashly to you in anger before, but when I said I'd been entertaining company, I was bluffing. I'm lonely Uxor. It's nice to be needed again, and the type of need you have is different than I'm accustomed to. You apparently want me in a way that has been built out of caring. That makes it a very new experience for me, to be wanted for something apart from physicality... which also makes it all the more appealing.
Uxor: "But it's not right"
Varro: Well who cares? So long as you and I are happy, what does it matter? Stop thinking of things in terms of right and wrong, and start thinking about yourself just this once. You're always acting to help others, and don't get me wrong, it is as noble quality. But it is also denies you of happiness. When was the last time you were not alone? You spend so much time in your duty that you fail to drink in the life that goes on around you. I've been failing in that too, but spending time out here with my thoughts has brought me to realize this. I didn't need to rip my own throat out to realize that I've been in a dire state for some time. If this is what helps us both to be rational pleasant people once more, so be it. Who is there to condemn us, hm?
*She mouthed the word 'Endaria'*
Varro: Ah yes, Endaria. Something else that I gave much thought to. It has been eight months since her loss. All of the time, my thoughts were to the fact that no one can find her in the afterlife. Then it dawned on me that it is equally as likely that she does not WANT to come back, and therefor, chooses to refuse contact in the beyond. Now, that might sound depressing, but knowing her as I do, she may well have had a very good reason to do that. Wishful thinking? Probably. But how am I to survive thinking of conspiracy and abandonment, when instead I can also weigh in the possibility that she sacrificed herself to protect me somehow. You above all others could understand that principle, no?
Uxor: "This is a bad time to ask this, but if I do not now, I will forget. I have too many questions for you. What is it that you don't want Mekari to tell me about your marriage to Endaria? I overheard her" *she scratched out 'I overheard her'* When I was eavesdropping on you when Mekari first came here, I heard her say that she had something she would tell me that you didn't want me to know about."
*Varro thought for a while, trying to place what conversation she might have been referring to, and seemed to at last come upon it*
Varro: It is not so much you in particular as just a matter that I kept private. Endaria was a stolen bride. She was arranged to be married to a Deneith nobleman, but she didn't want to wed him. I was a minstrel of the House at the time, an entertainer on commission. I'm a bit if a free spirit myself, so I couldn't blame her for feeling that way. So I helped her run away. Effectively, as it worked out over time, I took the man's bride for my own. It was not something I needed to be made public.
*Uxor nodded in understanding of this. Her line of questions and his talk of his meditative trip to the desert brought her to a conclusion*
Uxor: "It was you. You sent me the sword, didn't you? And the book"
*To this he nodded* Varro: I found them, and thought you could use something nice. Especially after our fight.
Uxor: "Why didn't you put that they were from you?"
Varro: Because I didn't think you would accept them knowing that they were from me, at the time anyway. I'm glad to see you've gotten use from them. *he nodded to the sword, which was at her hip*
Uxor: "I know you're feeling forlorn Varro, but we can't just charge into things...as far as 'you and I' goes. What if Endaria is able to be brought back?"
Varro: I think you're saying that because you were attracted to me when she was as yet still alive. Am I correct in my guess?
*Down to her lap her eyes fell. When he put it like that, it sounded worse than it felt in her heart. Some friend she was to Endaria*
Uxor: "As I said. I dishonor her."
Varro: What's more, you feel bad because now that she is not here, you have the capacity to be with me... if not now, eventually... and you think somehow that is your fault? You didn't kill her Uxor. You didn't wish her dead... did you? *he qurked a brow at her*
*Very adamantly she shook her head no, and wrote* "Never! I was happy for her. Yes, I was attracted to you, but that she had someone like you made me happy for her."
Varro: Easy, I was only kidding. I know you are not the sort to wish something like that on someone else. Always so serious. *He grinned, then his expression became more somber.* Look, if Endaria were to be back among the living, yes it would be complicated. But am I to spend the remainder of my days in misery on the chance that it will happen? If our places had been reversed, and it were me in the afterlife, I would want her to be happy, not rot at my tomb. Knowing that she did everything in her power to try and bring me back, I would have satisfaction. Do I intend to forget her? No. But I do intend to live my life. That is more than I can say for my frame of mind before, and I think seeing me like this now would please her far better than seeing me suffer. Now stop holding back. Life is around us like so much wine waiting for us to take the deepest drink we can. . . and we're both thirsty Uxor. Drink with me.
*It so frequently escaped her mind that he was a man who crafted words, and he was in true form once more. Therefor when he moved to kiss her this time, objection had died in her. He too had no thought to past or future. There was only now. Free and unchecked, one shared sentiment now ruled their minds. Lust.*

[Captian_Watcher]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
Clan Scorpion Imperial
Sho's Fate? Chapter1 of many...

As Sho spoke, an elven figure came through the doorway of the tavern, and motioned Sho over. Sho quickly finished his statement, and escused himself to go outside for a minute. The Fellows saw him leave with the elven figure, and all turned to Sorgo with answers, but he only srugged.

*Sho turned to speak with the female elf outside* Why are you here?

I have news of our father*She spoke cooly*

*Sho growled* He is NOT our father, HE killed our parents and adopted us, he is our uncle, and nothing more!

*She frowned* This is not the time brother, want to hear the news or not?

*Sho sighed* Yes, Axalise, speak, what is the news of Aemilius?

*Axa looked down* Um...you know how you crippled him?

*Sho eyes her* Yes, why did he die yet?

*Axa smirks* Not quite, he actually is uncrippled now.

*Sho frowned* What!?

He found some healers of great power and got healed, his spine is fixed entirely, and he is stronger than ever.

*Sho cursed in draconic* ****!!

And that is not it, Sho, he might be coming here to stormreach.

*This time Sho's eyes widened in fear* Why?

To speak to you and other business. We know not fully the reasons.

*Sho thought for a while, then switched the language to undercommon((don't know whats called in eberron))* Thank you for telling me, Axa, but why are you really here*points to her bags* You are packed as if you are gonna stay.

*She gives a fake smile* I come to live with you brother, and relax from the life I have, I hear your guild is very good, and I wanna join.

*Sho eyes he suspiciously* Fine, follow me, I will introduce you.


Sho enters the tavern with the female elf behind him. As they get closer and more in the light of the fireplace, people could see the elven woman. She was pale white, blood red hair, and lips. By her robe and staff, Sorgo made the observation that she is a magic user of some sort.

"Sorry for leaving all," said Sho, "I would like you to meet my *coughs* sister, Axalise Drizzin, Sorceress of Cyre. She would like to join the fellowship."


----------------------------Later on in Axalise's room----------------------
*A dark low voice spoke in the dark to Axalise* ...So you know what to do, right?

*Axalise responed* Yes father, get the trust of the fellowship, then get the trust of the coin lords, trust of the houses, and of the twelve. Then find their weak points and report to you, and at the same time recruit as many as possible to help with the second invasion.

*Aemilius in his dark, low voice* And? you forgot the most important part! Convince your brother to join me, as the heir to the empire where he belongs.

*Axa nods* Yes father, I will. Ph'xari.

*Aemilius* Ph'xari.

[Captian_Watcher]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
Clan Scorpion Imperial
Sho's Fate? Chapter2 of many...



Sho woke up in his room with the burning pain on his back.
‘Crap, the fricken dragonmark again. Why is it messing with me again. Been 4 years since it burned last. I’ll never under stand’ Sho thought to himself.

“Ouch,” Sho moaned as he got up, “That fire giant really hurt me when he stepped on me. I hate giants, just big dumb dwarves, that’s what they are, oversized dumb dwarves.”

A knock at his door.

“Yes?” Sho asked. Axalise stepped in and closed the door behind herself. “Ello Axa, mind frosting my back a little.?” ‘Axalise Drizzin, my adopted sister, an elf of white skin, and blood red hair. I really don’t know why she’s here in Stormreach, but I am glad for her icy abilities, she is the best ice sorceress I know.’

“Your back again?” She asked with a crooked smile, “I used to be jealous of those who had dragonmarks, but I am happy I don’t now”

“Just cool me down, and enough with the smart talk.” Sho snapped. Axalise cast a very gentle chill touch on his back.

“How was the adventure last night?” She asked, “I heard there were very many hobgoblins and a fire giant”

Sho groaned, “Now I see why you specialized in ice magic and not fire, I hate things with fire—“

“What about your flaming rapier?” She interrupted?

“…Except that, I will always love Inferno”

“You named it?”

“Yeah, Inferno, and Shocker” Sho said with pride. “What’s your point? You named your staff Ingazo.”

“That’s because Ingazo was the ice spirit I trapped inside of it.” Axalise replied.

“…..*Sho grumbles in Draconic*”

Axalise smirked. “There,” She said, “Better yet?”

“Yes, thank you Axa.” Sho said with a sigh of happiness that the burning is gone. “So, why did you come here?”

“I already told you…”

“No, no, I mean to my room. Why did you come here?”

Axalise paused.

“I was checking to make sure a trap has not killed you yet. You are good, but things happen.” She finally said.

“Humph,” Sho said, “No trap can get me. I’m Sho Drizzin the Lavender.”

Axalise frowned.

“Why do you keep calling yourself that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sho Drizzin the Lavender!”

“Cause that’s who I am….?” Sho was trying to see what she meant.

“No you are not, you are Sho Scorpio, heir to Clan Scorpion Imperial. The Drizzin part of you died when mom and dad died, the lavender part of you died in hell, so why having the wrong name?”

Sho was ****ed, his mark burned with his anger.

“How dare you speak like that? Has Aemilius poisoned your mind with his foolish lies!?”

“He is now our FATHER, Sho, get used to it.”

Sho raised his hand ready to strike her.

‘STOP FOOL! Don’t you dare do that, you are better than that. Put that hand down **** it, she is your sister, younger sister. Fool, you know yourself, don’t be something you are not!’

Sho slowly put his arm down, happy he conscious kicked in.

“Sorry….” Sho apologized quietly, “Please, just leave, I have work to do.” Axalise looked at him in fright for a little, gulped, and bowed. She left quickly.

Sho sighed in relief. Too much pressure and pain on him.

“Fricken giants.” He whispered under his breath.

[Captian_Watcher]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
Clan Scorpion Imperial
Sho's Fate? Chapter 3 of many...


A tall, orange-gold warforged stepped off the ship, that came from the North, in the docks and looked around. He had Blood-red ruby like eyes that glowed with pure power. On his back was a wooden tower shield, and to his side a well built khopesh.

“Stormreach…” the warforged said slowly in his low, metallic voice. “Sho”

**-------------------------------------------*--------------------------------------------**

Sho walked the streets of Stormreach. He was not very happy. He could not find very much information on Mekari, and now Uxor was very upset about something with Varro, his guess. He had problems, Aemilius will be coming to Stormreach, and had to take him out. Sho has his cursed devil eyes to rely on though, the only time he was thankful for the cursed things. Last time Aemilius saw Sho, he was very cautious of Sho and his eyes, and the power he had. But that is not enough to stop Aemilius from taking over Xen’drix.

‘You need to find Deriaz, and speak with him. You need all the help you can get’

Sho walked into the Rusty Nail for a quick drink. He saw a large crowd in front of the bar, so he took a seat to wait. After a few minutes a warforged walked up to him. Very large, orange-gold color, and red eyes.

“Hello?” Sho said in question to the forged.

“Sho” said the metallic voice of the forged. “I bring a message.”

Sho’s eyes narrowed. “Ok, forget the introductions I guess”

“Aemilius is on his way, he going to meet you in the Phoenix Tavern in 3 days. You be there or trouble.” The forged spoke coldly.

“Aemilius? Here? 3 days?” Sho’s eyes widened in fear. “Damn! And who are you, to bring the message?”

“I am Aemilius’ warforged. I come to announce HIS arrival, because, as you know, he does not like to come unnoticed. I am also here to make money for him, and deliver messages to the other people.”

“Other people?” Sho asked.

“Classified, you are not to know.” The forged responded, “But remember, 3day, Phoenix Tavern.” The warforged turned to leave, but Sho jumped at him. Warforged being strong and fast, let the forged one knock Sho down in the air, and drew his khopesh. “Stay back, or I will injure you.” His voice rang in metallic anger.

Sho wiped the blood from his forehead where the metal arm struck. “And when he is here, what happens to you?”

“When HE is here, I would have served my purpose. Unlike the foolish brothers of mine who chose freewill, I actually serve a purpose.”

“He will kill you? Then why do you still listen?” Sho asked.

“Because I was built to serve the dark skinned, elven breathers. I will die in honor, and will not have to deal with the freewill my foolish brothers have.” The metallic voice spoke. “Why must I have said it twice, breather, you losing your hearing?” Sho shook his head. “Then bye, you are wasting my time.” The warforged turned around and left.

Sho looked around for a sec in thought.

‘Damn…3 days, where is Deriaz!’

[Captian_Watcher]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
Clan Scorpion Imperial
Sho's Fate? Chapter 4 of many...


Sho headed back to the guildhall, and as he approached, he saw Deriaz by the door, at least passing it. But it did not look like the old warforged. Sho quickly scanned the warforged with his eyes, yup, same build as Deriaz, but not the same color, and no mask. Weird. Sho came up to him.

“You,” Sho said pointing to him, “Follow me to the kitchen.” Deriaz, who is actually Ragyr, followed with a questioned look. When they got to the kitchen Sho sat down, an took out a flyer that he saw on the streets. “Sit!” he ordered to Ragyr.

“I have no need to” Ragyr said.

“Ok, then , “ Sho pointed to the picture of Ragyr on the flyer, “What’s this?”

“Is this a trick question?” the warforged asked.

“Why are you on a flyer for STEALING? And why in the hell to you look weird Deriaz.”

“Not your business, and I am not the runt.”

“By runt you mean Deriaz I guess.” Sho said. “Then why do you have the same mechanics as him?”

“Because the twerp uses my body. Is that all? I have to leave.”

“Twerp? You and Deriaz share the same body?”

“Yes, and he is still knocked out by the mindflayer. So until he can wake up and take control, I am.”

“Interesting.” Sho thought. He was so curious that he decided to read the warforged mind, finding out very much. Like the deal between him and Uxor, and his encounter with Mekari. Sho’s eyes glowed lavender, and he took action. A lavender light covered Ragyr, and he was thrown, and pinned to the wall.

“What’s this?” Ragyr asked surprised.

“Let’s make a deal, Ragyr…” Sho said with a smirk.

*---------------------------------***----------------------------------*

Meanwhile:

Sorgo was walking around the guild hall thinking about Sho and his ‘Dragon mark’ as Turen told him.

‘Hmmmm…” thought Sorgo. “Philarin is the only house here in Stormreach, that has the elven dragon mark, I should go ask them about Sho.” Sorgo stopped as he walked by the kitchen, for he heard a large crash. Surprised, Sorgo put his ear to the wall to hear what’s going on.

<chair gets smashed>

“Again, why would I work for you, a fleshy?” said a metal voice.

<sound of metal being pierced, and then a loud slash, followed by two things dropping to the ground>

<A Warforged laughed>

“I could do worse.” Said the voice of Sho.

“Don’t flatter me fleshy.”

<sound of someone choking, and a neck being broken>

“Still stabbing elf?” said Ragyr

<clapping sound by entrance.>

“Congrats, you killed my shadow clone.” Said Sho. “And all I wanted to do is talk some business.”

<Ragyr gave an angry metal growl. Then loud sounds of him running to where Sho is. Then sound stopped.>

“I put a darkness spell around your head, and now you are being held by me.” Sho said with a half serious voice. “Still think I am a puny fleshy?”

<Ragyr gave an angry yell.>

“I’m gonna kill you fleshy, and rip you to pieces!!” Ragyr yelled.

“We’ll see.” Said Sho.

<The sound of metal being punctured repeatingly.>

“You better accept my offer, or you’ll die from oil loss.” Said Sho.

“You wouldn’t do that, the runt will die too, you don’t have the guts to kill me.”

“Well, I don’t plan on you dieing, I thought this would have ended long before, but you won’t listen. So, if you accept my offer, you live and I’ll be happy, Uxor be happy, and I won’t be blamed for murder, but if you will not listen, I have no choice but to let you die.” Sho explained.

<Ragyr and Sho talk more, but they are quieter, and harder to hear.>

“….alright I’ll do it, what’s the….” *Ragyr*

“Great, he will be here in Stormreach soon….kill until I tell you.” *Sho*

“Ok, anything else? *Ragyr*

“Do NOT kill Mekari…not work for Uxor…alone…answer to me only.” *Sho*

“And my name….cleared for ever?” *Ragyr*

“Yes…” *Sho*

“The twerp won’t…this” *Ragyr*

“I know……go, I’ll take you to Sorgo, he will heal you.” *Sho*

<Footsteps>

Sorgo hurried away to his room, ready to heal the wounded warforged.

<The kitchen is a large mess. Tables, and chairs are destroyed, one wall is crushed, and oil is all over.>

[Captian_Watcher]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
Clan Scorpion Imperial
Sho's Fate? Chapter 5 of many...

Part 1...
Sho quickly ran into the Phionex Tavern. Today was the day Aemilius showed his face, here, in Stormreach. Earlier today Sho had his rapiers ssharpened for the special occation.

Earlier: {"What?" the smith ask. "You wand me to sharpen your rapiers? Why? They are piercing, not slicing. Do you not know about weapons? You should bot be using these if you don't know they are used."

Sho put down a pouch of platnium pieces.

"I know what I am doing," Sho said angerly, "Do it or will take my business elsewhere."

The smith grumbles, and takes the money and swords.

"They'll be done in about 2 hours." said the smith.

When Sho came back, the swords were sharp and shiny.}

His uncle was coming, an emperor, he had to be prepared. Sho headed towards the fellowship table up the top, and took a seat at Varro's table. Only a minute later, a figure walked up to him with a smile. This person was a jet black skinned male drow. Pure white hair, and deep blood red eyes. He wore a half-plate, a shield on his back, and a khopesh at his side.

"Hello my son" said the drow in his uncanny dark voice.

"Hello Aemilius." Sho said, "And I am not your son."

"Ok," Aemilius said, "Lets not go into that now, we are here to talk about pleasent things."

"Whats so pleasent talking to you." Sho said with a fake smirk.

"humor, humor." Aemilius chuckled. "So, how have you been?"

"Fine, until you showed up." Sho snapped.

"Good, good. I've been doing better too, asyou can see, I am not crippled anymore. And after a few months of getting into shape again, I've been very happy myself, and seeing you fills me with joy." Aemilius chimmed.

"Glad to hear that," Sho said sarcasticly, "So, when and how are you going to take Stormreach?"

Aemilius laughed.

"Oh, I don't have a date yet, but in a few months if the ships arrive on time."

"Ok." Sho said nodding, trusting Aemilius, knowing he never lies no matter how twisted he is. "So...why then?"

"Why am I doing it?" ask Aemilius.

"Yes"

Aemilius sighed. "Ok, well you know our history here on Xen'drix right?"
Sho nodded.

"Well, you also know that your fathers clan, and my own, came here on a mission for Vulkoor, and your father decided to quit, and live peacefully under ground. So I took over, and I am leading my new powerful empire on a new mission from Vulkoor. And that is to take over Xen'drix, kill all giants, learn all their magic, unite all drow, and rule this land as drow only, and maybe a few warforged slaves." Aemilius added with a smirk.

Sho sat there quietly for a sec, then spoke, "So, I know you are, and was the priest of the clans, still, Vulkoor has not spoken to our people for far too long, why do people believe you?"

"Because they know I am related to Vulkoor, he is my great, great grandfather. I have some of his powers, I am THE priest connected to him." Aemilius said proudly.

"You? Related to the Mockery?" Sho exlaimed.

"Please, do not use that name the humans gave to him. Those names are cruel."

"Well so are the dark six, **** it." Sho gritted between his teeth.

There was a long pause.

"So...am I related to him too?" Sho asked.

Aemilius nodded. "Realated, but posses no power of his because your mother was an elf."

Sho stares in disbelief.

"Because you and I are the last blood ties to him, I want to make you my heir." Aemilius said. "Come, join me to help our people."

"To help our people by killing millions of innocent how does that work?" Sho raised his voice.

"It is for the best, Sho, can't you see what is to be done?"

"No, apperantly I don't see."

Aemilius points to Sho's eyes. "It's their fault. Those evil eyes darken your vison, keeping you from seeing what needs to be."

"My eyes are fine!" Sho yelled back.

"You must be rid of them." Aemilius said drawing his khopesh.

Sho draws his rapiers. He winced. His mark burned, it was warning him.

'No fool! Stop, don't fight, your doom! Run!!!'

Too late, Sho attacked first, Aemilius blocked easily. Over and over again Sho and Aemilius exchanged blows, both block each others hits. Sho was ready to use the power of his eyes, when he was stunned by a stun spell.

'****,' Sho thought, 'Can't think straight, losing thoughts.'

Aemilius walked over to Sho. "This is for the best, Sho." he said as he put his hands on Sho's eyes, dug his fingers in, and ripped Sho's eyes out, and threw them to the floor. Blood poured everywhere.

"AAAAAAAAAGH!!!" Sho yelled in great pain. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!"

Aemilius then cast cone of acid on the eyes, disinigrading the eyes until there was nothing left.

"There my son," Aemilius spoke calmly, "You are fixed, cursed in darkness you are no more." He lifted the knelling over Sho up. "Let us go, I must find you a healer."

Aemilius pulls the greatly wounded Sho out of the tavern to house J.

Part 2...
Sho awoke with his head throbing in great pain, like a warforged was standing on his head. It was dark. He opened his eyes, it was still dark, Sho then remembered. Anger burst out, Sho was ready to kill, but couldn't move, he was in too much pain. He heard voices, two voices, so he listened.

"Thank you very much again Sir Jorasco." Aemilius thanked the halfling.

"No problem at all," said Jorasco, "Anything for the father of good little Axalise. She helped us alot, as did Sho. It's a shame, his eyes, how did this happen again?"

"He was trying to disable this realy deadly trap, and there were hidden spikes, that went off when he disabled. The spikes hit his eyes." Aemilius said putting on a false worried look.

Jorasco shook his head. "Shame, what a shame, he was such a good elf, very talented, and this happens to him. Curse those evil creatures that dwell in this city and cause people like Sho to get injured or die." Jorasco shook his head. "If only I was able to give him eyes and lrt him see again, but magic only can heal so much."

Aemilius pulls out a blind fold with runes on it.

"Look here Sir, here is something my greatest priests created after 50 or so years of reasearch, and experiments. This helps a blind man see. These runes connect to the wearer's mind, and sends him the outline of objects to his mind magicaly. This does not restore ones vision, but helps his walk around better at least." Aemilius explained as he showed the blind fold.

"Very interesting." Jorasco said interested. "Come, to my library, tell me more, and what they did."

Aemilius and Sir d'Jorasco walk out. Sho waited a few more minutes to move.

'****! I'm blind, he took my eyes, he...he, CRIPPLED ME! How am I to stop him now...' Sho thought in his head.

Sho walked to the Pionex tavern the best he could. The magical blind fold helped, but Sho still could not tell the difference between the wall and the ground. He was blind, he was in pain, he was lost.

'How will I stop him now...'

[Captian_Watcher]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
Clan Scorpion Imperial
Sho's Fate? Chapter 6 of many...


'Ragyr **** it! You are given me a whole **** load of troubles.' Sho thought.

Sho was tired, he just had a whole problem with Ragyr trying to kill Deriaz. Sho almost died bring Ragyr back to life after Sho crushed him, and Mekari did her own damage. Then Sho had to go to the catacombs to stop Uxor from killing Ragyr, and in the process he heard Uxor speak, for her first time since she made her vows. Sho talked to her, and tried to understand her, and tried to explain to her that all is fine, and about the importantance of souls.

As Sho spoke, he saw a womans figure walk across the hall.

'What was that? How did I just see some one?' sho thought to himself.

'Sho, get out now!' the figure yelled at him.

'Maria? Maria is that you!? But you are dead, which means I am seeing things, or you are-'

'I am an umbra. I am Umbrae Maria, I am the ghost of Maria, here to keep your intension true, so you can kill Aemilius and save what would have been our child's home.'

'Maria, I am blind, and am old, and am tired, I don't think I can do it.'

'That is why you are making a team, a group of people who are willing to die for what ever you offer them by killing Aemilius. '

'But all I have is Ragyr on my side. I wont use Uxor, Deriaz, or Lady Hope. They are far too valueable.'

'More will join your cause, those who matter, and those who don't. Those who don't will work for you directly, and will kill Aemilius. The other followers who you think have true souls will hold Aemilius' armies, and keep the city standing. But none of this will happen if you stay. You will die here if you stay.'

'I miss you, and Jack...why has fate brought us like this?'

'Just get out, what your fate is unwritten, don't make it so by dieing here, because then everyone's fate who is not drow or wont join Aemilius will come too, and they wont be nice deaths either.'

'Why is up to me to save Stormreach, I am but a former criminal.'

'It is NOT up to you, but it is up to you to bring the people together so THEY can save their home, now go leave!' Umbrae Maria disappears from Sho's mind.

"Maria." Sho whispered. Uxor looked at him questionaly on what he said, but Sho shook his head, and continued to speak.
**************************************
"Axalise, we must keep Sho alive, we can't just get rid of him, he is my heir." Aemilius explained to Axa.

"But he hates you, and will try to kill you." Axa disagreed.

"NO! I will die, and hopfully by Sho's hand, he IS the HEIR to my empire, and he will be the next ruler of Clan Scorpion Imperial, sooner or later!" Aemilius yelled. " It's his fate, to die as the ruler of the largest, and most powerful empire! I will not kill my own blood."

Axalise mumbled, and Aemilius sighed.

"I know you are looking out for me Axa, but he must live. Why do you think I got him the best healing after destroying those cursed eyes?"

Axalise nodded, and bowed. "I will leave now, I have more things to do."

Aemilius bowed back. "Carry on my daughter."
*****************************************
'SHO!' Sho heard his name yelled loudly in his head. 'Come to the upstairs of the catacombs.'

Sho frowned. That was his death call. He could leave, or he could do something else.

'Sorgo!' Sho called to the knight over their mental connection. 'Sorgo, are you there, answer, I am about to die!'

'What?' Sorgo answered. 'Why in the bloody silver flame are tou going to die?'

'I am about to use my death, to fake my death.'

'You...you lost me.'

'I will die real soon, believe me. Aemilius is upstairs ready to kill me, so I will die, get buried, and later that night you and Ragyr will come to bring me back to life. And make sure you use that magical rod that the hight priest gave you. I don't want to come back as the undead.'

'The greater rod of true rez? But thats my best wand, the High priest of the silver flame gave me it himself.'

'Hey! I'm...Stormreach is more important. Use that to rez me.'

'All right. What message am I to give to Ragyr?'

'Tell him to meet you at my grave, the night of my funeral. He will dig me up. Tell him to witness my rebirth, and the plan is a little different, but will end the same. Also, bring me a staff, and a very large robe, that will cover me completely, especially my face.'

'Got it. Is that it?'

'No, if you see Mekari, ask her if she would like to help me kill a famous person. And if you see her before I am risen, and she will like to help, bring her to the grave when you bring me back to life, so she can also witness my rebirth.'

'Why are you deing though? If you know where, just go away, run.'

'Because this is the best way. Now go, write the message to Ragyr, and prepare. And make sure my funeral is after they find Varro. Now I must leave.'

'bye Sho...and i'm sorry.'

'I know you are, shut up and go. Becareful when I die. Our connection might hurt your head.'

'Got it.'
Connection end.

Chapter 6 of many...The Death?

Sho walks rup the stairs to the upper catacombs. He saw an outline of a person in the shadows of one hallway, so he walked there. He braced himself, but started coughing som blood up from his lugh wound. As he stopped coughing, a khopesh was thrusted into his stomach, and came out the other end. But the force of the thrust was different. It was not of Aemilius' style. He always slashes, never thrusts.

"What the hell." Sho said as he was deing. He looked closer at the outline of the figure, and he grabbed at the robe the killer was wearing. Sho jerked his hand back from the deathly cold touch of the robe. This isn't Aemilius.

"Axa? Axalise is that you...?" Sho knelled over, and fell to the ground, blood filled his lungs, blood poured from his wound by the cup fulls at a time, and all he though was, 'Axalise'

Sho grew cold, blood almost all gone, he dies...

[Captian_Watcher]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
Clan Scorpion Imperial
Sho's Fate? Chapter 7 of many...

<Ragyr> *Ragyr walked quietly into the bar, taking a spot against the wall. He scanned the patrons slowly, but sighed, not seeing who he appeared to be looking for.*
<Jaggie> Excuse mehh--ohh..Hello Ragyr *Kaggie slid through the door, around the large 'forged.*
<Ragyr> *He nodded to her, and continued scanning for a few seconds afterward. He froze, then, and did a double-take, running out to catch Jaggie.* Wait a sec!
<Jaggie> *Jaggie looked back, stoping mid track* ....yes?
<Ragyr> *He snapped his fingers a few times, and then pointed.* Jaggie, was it? You were at the Catacombs earlier, right?
<Jaggie> *Turning to face him she gave a nod of the head* Yes.. Are you and your brother ok? I haven't seen him since then.
<Ragyr> Yeah, he's. . . Uh . . . Fine. Yeah. *he averted his eyes for a second.* Look, have you seen that one elf since then? The blind one.
<Jaggie> The one that wouldn't let me finish healing him? Even though he was half dead when I came across you bought in House Dennith? No. Last I saw of that one, he was at the catacombs. I left shortly after Deriaz and Uxor..Is he stile injured?
<Ragyr> Well, last I saw, no. He was fine. I needed to talk to him, though, and I haven't seen him. Him and I have a sort of agreement, and I needed to see him. You remember the way to his apartment, right? Think you could lead me there? I need to check up on him.
<Jaggie> ok.... *She looked questionaly at him, lightly shruged and began to head towards House Dennith.
<Ragyr> *He grinned.* Perfect. Thanks. *He followed a distance behind her.*
<Jaggie> *She tilted her head back so she sould see Ragyr from the corner of her eye.* What had happened to Sho anyway? Why was he so badly injured? *She stoped* Your not going to hurt him are you?
<Ragyr> Well, I was kind of to blame for the first injury when we got into a fight earlier. . . . You know, when I was kind of bounty crazy after Deriaz. *He shook his head.* But no, I'm not. I just need to talk to him. Things are . . . Happening, and I thought he should be informed.
<Jaggie> Very well... *Jaggie continued again, stile watching Ragyr just in case* It's not far now.
<Ragyr> *He nodded again, but stayed silent.*
<Jaggie> *In a matter of a few minutes they were at the gates and past. Heading towards the apartment buildings.* I belive it is that one thier. *Jaggie pointed at an apartment. It's door opening with the wind*
<Ragyr> Perfect. *He laughed to himself, grinned, and walked past her. He disappeared into the apartment.*
<Jaggie> Ur welcome. *Jaggie stoped and watched him go past. She stod their for a moment stareing at the door. Sho hadn't fixed the lock yet..*
<Ragyr> *Ragyr came out a moment later, frowning.* He's not here! *He shrugged.* Any idea where else he could be? I remember we went to the Catacombs, but he was with that mute-- Well, former mute-- When I left.
<Jaggie> Umm... *Jaggie looked around* I hear he has many places... Though I never saw him leave the Catacombs. He was in bad shape then. Perhaps he is in the care of the Flame priests. *She shruged*
<Ragyr> Then I need to get him out of there and alone. *He walked past her again.* He needs to know what Der-- Well, what's going on, at least.
<Jaggie> Der? What's wrong with Deriaz? *Jaggie trotted up behind him, a look of concurn upon her face.*
<Ragyr> *He waved the question away.* Nothing, nothing, he's. . .Uh. . . Yeah, he's fine. *He started walking away again, back towards the gates to the Market.*
<Jaggie> If you can't say the truth, learn to lie better or don't say anything at all. *She growled., stoping to allow more distance between them*
<Ragyr> *He stopped, and looked down at her.* Fine, you really want to know? If I tell you, you can't say a word to anyone. . . Got it?
<Jaggie> *She hadn't expected that.* O..okay. *She brought herself to attention.*
<Ragyr> If you say a word, I swear. . . Look, remember when Deriaz left the Catacombs earlier? Well, I wasn't far behind him after he went out of sight. I followed him to the Harbor, adn we talked for a bit. It turns out, he's feeling guilty about everything that happened. Which is good for me, cause I don't have to worry about the guilt.
<Jaggie> yeah... He side he felt sorry for all the mess that happend... *she bite her lip and contiuned to listen.*
<Ragyr>Anyway, he brought up an old idea I gave him, before I learned that there was a Forge here in Stormreach. I had, at one time, convinced him to try to buy a ticket back to Khorvaire. Once there, I planned to lead him to the Mournlands. Heard there were other Forged there, figured it would be the best for him to stay there. Not have to worry about fleshies. Plus, I could continue taking jobs there.
<Jaggie> *She straightend at the mention of the Mournlands* Crye...
<Ragyr> *He nodded.* well, I thought he had forgotten about it. After that whole incident, tough. . . *He reached into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper.* He sold a sack of gems he had been saving up. Turns out, he's considering the idea again. He's probably back at the guild hall, planning on the leave. He planned to leave sometime after he found that Minstrel. . . . I'm telling you though, don't tell a soul.
<Jaggie> why would anyone want to go to Crye.... ur... the Mournlands?... It's a terrible place with strange creatures and undieing things...
<Ragyr> Well, he seems to want to get away from everything. He's too hard on himself, if you ask me. Not that I'm complaining. It's not that bad a place, really. . . *He took a step to te side and continued towards the gates again.*
<Jaggie> ...I...I was there seven months ago... It's a terrible place... *She looked up and began to follow again*
<Ragyr> To each their own, I suppose. *he laughed, and went through the gate into the Marketplace, heading towards the Catacombs.* If he wants to leave, I for one, am not going to stop him. It's not like many people are gonna miss him. It's like I tell him, there are less problems when he isn't around.
<Jaggie> .....Deriaz doesn't seem like the type to join Blades' crazies... *She spoke low*
<Ragyr> Well, he isn't. Funny you mention the Lord of Blades, as well. One of the main reasons I needed to see the elf.
<Jaggie> but... *Jaggie clamped her mouth shut*
<Ragyr> *He turned his head to look at her out of the corner of his eye.* But what? *He grinned as he turned back, seeing the Catacombs coming up.*
<Jaggie> Sorry.. May I help you find him? I've a question to ask...In regards to Blades.
<Ragyr> *Ragyr shrugged* Sure, why not. He says he knows Blades personal-- *He stopped, both in speech and in movement. He shook his head.* Forget I said that. *He continued.*
<Jaggie> ...Maybe he could tell me where he's bee... *Though her voice was low she obviousely lacked the ability to keep her thoughts to herslef.*
<Ragyr> Woudln't know. Probably. *he sighed* The elf is supposed to give me a job with him. Second in comman, apparently. *He laughed as they got to the doors.* He better be telling the truth.
<Jaggie> Hie..*She nodded then looked at the catacomb walls.* I.. I don't think I can enter...
<Ragyr> Oh, come on. It's just a place. It's not like you're gonna die from stepping in here. *He laughed.* Besides, the elf could be here.
<Jaggie> ...no...no...I can't go in...I'll stay outside...If he's thier I can talk to him latter.
<Ragyr> *He shrugged.* Fine, your decision. I'm telling you though, it's not like you're going to die by walkin gin. *He opened the door, and disappeared.*
<Jaggie> *Jaggie watched him pase through the door and sighed. Once he was gone she sled her back bown against the wall, scooped up a loose stone and tossed it towards a tree.* You don't know how wrong you are.. *She sighed again*
<Ragyr> *He poked his head out a few moments later.* You. You can heal,right? Get in here, we've got a problem. I found him, but he isn't moving. And Blades knows I have no idea how a fleshy works to heal one proplerly.
<Jaggie> wha-? *She jumped up and grabed the door* Where is he? *She tried to push her way in but her hand hanged unto the outerwall, digging into the limestone wall* ****** *she growled and forced her hand to let go of the wall. Her movements where stiff and jerky and the glow of her eye became nearly non-esistant.Her face had become void.*
<Ragyr> so much for not wanting to enter. *He said with a smug look on his face. He led her inside and to the right. After a moment more of walking, he pointed at a body on the ground.* Tried shaking him, but he isn't responding.*He followed her over to the body, and nudged it with his foot.* He was fine when I left him, I swear. . . Y'know, just in case you're thinking I'm the one that did it.
<Jaggie> *She stepped over to Sho's body. Her face looking like she would gage if she had the reflexes.
<Ragyr> Well? He going to be ok, or not? Quit looking so grim, it's just a body.
<Jaggie> His body is bloated...and stinks... I don't think he's alive..*She bent down and touched him. Then placed the side of her head to his chest.* ...hes...cold...
<Ragyr> So he's been here awhile. . . Doesn't look like he's been defiled for any bounty, either. *He grinned.* Reminds me of times I went out for some fun. . . *He sighed* But that's not the point. Can you fix him up, or not?
<Jaggie> *she lifted him by the side and rolled him over,a wicked gash through his back.* He's..
<Ragyr> Dead, yes. I believe I've heard that before.
<Jaggie> I...i... *She let go and his body slumped akwardly.*
<Ragyr> *He crossed his arms.* you, you. . . You what?
<Jaggie> Find a Priest......
<Ragyr> A Priest? Why? I thought you said you could heal?
<Jaggie> I...I don't know if...if even a cleric can rase him ba.. back....
<Ragyr> Then we should take him back to the guild hall, shouldn't we? *He picked up the body, throwing it over his shoulder. The smell didn't even seem to register to him.* Doesn't he know some kind of healer?. . . Sorgo, or something like that?
<Jaggie> I..i...who? We don't need a healer... Healing only works on ... on living...........
<Ragyr> Well, maybe the guy knows how to resurrect. It's worth a shot. And you don't seem too comfortale here. *He moved the body into his arm, looking over the mark on his back.* Whoever did this, I must say, they did a fine good job.
<Jaggie> you..you can't carry him...around like that.... *Her mouth was wide and the light of her eye nearly to a single concentrated point. She looked about her and pulled a tapestry from the wall.* Lay him down on this.....
<ragyr> *He blinked at the tapestry.* I can carry him just fine, but if you insist. . . *He put Sho down on the tapestry, as she asked.*
<Jaggie> *She riped several long strands from teh tapestry and bound Sho's legs and arms. Hastely, to avoid Ragyr's impatients she covered Sho with the cloth and bound the legs, torso an dhead*
<Ragyr> *He sighed.* Done? I still say I could have just carred him . . . No need to wrap him up like a present. *He shooke his head, and picked him up, swinging him over his shoulder.*
<Jaggie> You don't spend much time in public do you?... And stop carrying him like a dead trog to be shown off like a trophy...
<Ragyr> *he sighed* Fine, fine, geez. *he put Sho in his arms.* Better? I'd prefer if we got him moving soon, seeing as you're not capable of doin git. He needs to know about Deriaz.
<Jaggie> Go go! *Jaggie shoved him forward. He couldn't tell if she was rushing to get Sho help or so she could get out of the Catacoms faster.*
<ragyr> *He growled slightly.* Alright, alright! *He almost ran out of the Catacombs, pushing the door open with his shoulder. He started heading back to the main street, to get back to the guild hall.*
<Jaggie> *The moment she was outside her eye begain to glow again, though her face was stile void of nearly all emotions. A deep frown of worry was the only sign.*
<Ragyr> *He looked back, ignoring the frown,* Look alive, you're out of there, and we've got a body to get moving. *he disappeared, back into the streets.*
<Jaggie> Hei! *she caught up with him and casted a haste.*

[Captian_Watcher]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
Clan Scorpion Imperial
Sho's Fate? Chapter 8 of many...

Sorgo sat down and wrote this letter to Ragyr, as Sho requested.


Dear Mr. Ragyr the killer,

I am Sorgo Tran the Healer, knight of the Silverfla...forget it, we met before, I healed you after the incidents with Sho. Now, you know SHo is dead, but he gave me a message to give to you. The night of Sho's Funeral, you will meet me. There I will bring Sho back, and you will witness his rebirth. Bring a shovel, your digging. Do this if you still want everything that SHo promised.

With all due respect,

Sorgo Tran the Healer, Disciple of Sho Drizzin the Lavender

The Graveyard in House D



*Ragyr sighed at the grave.* Supposed to give me a reward, and then you go and die. Great. *He turned around, scanning the distance.* And now I'm supposed to wait for some Sorgo person, who I don't even know, who will let me witness your 'rebirth'? Pff. Fat chance. *He turned, and started to leave.*

A shovel is thrown at Ragyr, hitting the warforged's feet.

"Dig," said the appearing Sorgo, "And don't make a big mess."



*Ragyr sighed, but then laughed, a little too loudly.* Well! I was beginning to wonder when you'd show up. Been here for the past hour.

*He picked up the shovel, and walked back to Sho's grave, beginning to dig it up, not quite caring where he threw the dirt. He glanced back at Sorgo while he dug.* So, what's up with this whole rebirth thing? You trying to play out this elf like some sort of hero, coming back from the dead, or something?

*He laughed again, and turned back to the grave.* Not that I care, mind you. I'm just going for conversation, here.

"Well, i'm bringing him back from the dead, he is the one who used the term 'Rebirth'. " Sorgo responded. "I understand you talking, the graveyard gets boring, though please, a little quieter, if the guards hear, there will be trouble."

Sorgo looked at Ragyr and the hole being dug. "How much left?"

So he used the term 'rebirth', hm? You ask me, all we're doing is reviving him. No need for a special term-- *He stopped as he heard the shovel blade hit what sounded like gems.*

*Ragyr looked up and grinned.* Looks like this is it. I did the digging, you can pull him up. *He threw the shovel to the ground and sat down a small distance away, like he was waiting for a show.*

Sorgo growled at Ragyr.

"I have no clue why Sho likes you." Sorgo said as he jumped into the hole. After uncovering the casket, he lifted the lid. There lay Sho, as he was at the funeral. Sorgo climbed out of the hole, and pulled out his greater rod of True Resurection.

"I hope this works." Sorgo said as he started casting. This took lots of Sorgo's power to keep the rod on full power. Light covered Sho,and then went away. Sho did not move.

"Um...did it work?" Sorgo asked. As he spoke Sho Started to climb out, and he looked different. His skin was no longer gray, it was black, and his hair was now pure white, his dragonmark was a silver-blue color, his tattoo of a scorpion glew with a faint white aura. The only thing that looked the same was the magical blind fold over his eyes.

"Sho?" ask Sorgo.

"Robe, now." Sho said with out streached arm. Sorgo gave him the Robe, and Sho put it on. The robe covered him completly like Sho asked. "Staff?" Sho asked, and Sorgo gave him the staff. Sho turned to Ragyr.

"Now, that I am reborn, we have things to finish. Ragyr, cover the hole back up. Sorgo, make it look as if no one was here, the grave the same as it was, and as if I was still dead. Ragyr, Only to you and Sorgo am I alive, this here never happened, do NOT tell Deriaz of this, understand?"

*Ragyr leaned back on another gravestone, and crossed his arms as he sat on the ground.* Well, well, well. The blind elf makes a triumphant return. *He clapped slowly.* The performance could have used a bit for flare, if you ask me.

*He got up, and brushed himself off. He picked up the shovel again, but pointed the blade of it at Sho. He glared at him for a few seconds, before lowering it.* I'll stand by your word and not tell Deriaz, but. . . The two of us are linked a little more than I like. I can't guarantee he'll discover how to share memories between the two of us, but I'll keep it covered up. . .

*He began to slowly cover up the grave.* You know, now that you're up and running, there's something you should probably know, seeing as you also brought up Deriaz. . . *He trailed off, and grinned to himself.*

"As long as you wonr tell anyone yourself, they can discover this by themselves." Sho said. "What is this about Deriaz?"



*Ragyr laughed.* You haven't heard? Good. That means that Jaggie character hasn't talk-- *He shut his mouth, and shook his head.* That's not the point.

*He patted down the dirt on the grave, and turned to Sho.* You haven't noticed? Ever since that incident at the Catacombs, Deriaz has been shying away from you all. You want to know why? *He snapped his fingers, and a slip of paper appeared in his hand.* Because he's taking me and him off to Khorvaire. From there, I'm taking him to the Mournlands-- With or without you getting me a job with the Lord of Blades.

*He grinned, and snapped his fingers again. The paper disappeared.* But the ship leaves in a few days. Which means I still have the chance to help you out.

But enough about me and Deriaz. *He laughed.* You're up and moving again. What next?

*Ragyr grinned. He had gotten the response he wanted. He crossed his arms.* No can do. See, the way I work, I always take the course of action that will benefit me. . . And in this case, Deriaz. . . the most. Which means. . . Without you.

But forget about us. We're just problems for the guild, aren't we? That's what Deriaz thinks, at least. . . *He sighed.* But that's beside the point. What are we doing next about Aemilius?

Previous Message:

Sho cursed in draconic as he always did in anger.

"No, I didn't notice, maybe because I was DEAD!" Sho yelled in whisper at Ragyr. "Sorgo! why did you not say this right away!. Forget it...****, ok, can you get Deriaz to hold it a few more days, i'll buy you the tickets, and will join you so I can lead you to Lord of the Blades?"

"Hey, I'm going mournland to meet with Lord of the Blades, and I think it will be better for Deriaz if I came, I like you Ragyr and you style, I trust you with my life, but I do not trust you with Deriaz's. And what the hell is he blabbing about problems, Varro and Mekari caused more than you and Deriaz could ever in your life time." Sho coughed blood. "****, they still forgot to remove your metal from my lung." Sho drew his dagger, and stabbed it into his own lung with no expresion. Then he stuck his fingures in and pulled out a chunk of metal, and handed over to Ragyr. "I believe this is yours. Sorgo, heal now!" Sorgo came up and healed Sho's bloody wound. "So about Aemilius, we kill him. In 2 days, we kill him. So, is that enough time to prepare? Because he is **** powerful, and like I said, you will kill him, not I. That is why I hired you, all I can do is weaken him. If you can has Deriaz change the date, it will be better for you."



*Ragyr shook his head as he gladly took back the metal.* Like I said, no way. It's the two of us going, no one else. Either the two of us go alone, or you're going to have to stop us. It's more to our benefit to go that way. . .

. . . As for 2 days? Hm. . . *Ragyr went silent, thinking. After a moment, he shook his head again.* It's cutting it close. I think the ship leaves on that day. Deriaz can't reschedule when we leave, either.

He doesn't have the money. He sold a sack full of gems he's been collecting over the past few months. The only things he has left to sell are his abundant amount of swords, which he would never do. . . His necklace with that mute's, or former, earrings and that Forged Bard's spearhead. . . Again, would never sell. . . And the faded red wristband of that guild. . . Crimson Nexus?-- with him. Another 'momento'. Don't even think of convincing him to sell his mask-- You'd be better off asking him to jump into a pack of rust monsters. He won't take money, either. He's much too humble for his own good.

*He sighed.* I'll see what I can do, though. I'm not going to force him to reschedule-- I want out of here as soon as possible-- but I won't flat out ignore your requests. Not with a reward still on the line. I'll see what I can do.

Sho looked down.

'Fricken stubborn Forged'

"Ok, what about this." Sho said looking back at Ragyr. "In two days the Clan Scorpion Armada gets here, we kill Aemilius, I become new emperor, I get you and Deriaz your own ship, and drow to serve you. Also I give you money of great amount. But, if you want the position, take 1 day off from what and Deriaz are doing, and follow me to Lord of the Blades. Once it is done, I leave, and you and Deriaz are to do what ever, you will be powerful, and rich."

*Ragyr's eyes seemed to light up at the mention of power and money.* Hm. . . Now you're talking my language! I'll get him to stick around another day, you can count on it. *He rubbed his hands together.* It just means another day that I have to keep Deriaz-- Well, I mean, that Deriaz has to stay away from you all. It won't be that hard. *Ragyr nodded.* Two days, then. It's settled.



Sho noddeds to Ragyr, and lets him go. Sho then walks to the Phionex Tavern using his staff to guid him. Sho walked up to the door and sat facing the Fellowship of the Golden Night guildhall.

"Sorry," Sho said to himself, "Sorry I had to do this. Ragyr, I hope
you are ready, the kill will be in 2 days...2 days...you better be ready."

[Captian_Watcher]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
Clan Scorpion Imperial
Sho's Fate? Chapter 9 of many...



<Sho> *Sho walks up to the gates that lead to the Harbor, waiting for Ragyr.*
<Ragyr> *He appears a few moments later, with a frown on his face. He glares at Sho for a few moments, before sighing.* Sho.
<Sho> *Sho turns his head to Ragyr. With eyes and no blindfold.*
<Ragyr> *He sighs.* We've, uh, got a change of plans. . .
<Sho> *Sho was fully armored in his chain shirt and rapiers.* What do you mean?
<Ragyr> *Ragyr shook his head.* Well, about Deriaz. . . See, uh. . . How do I say this. . . *He shrugged.* Well, I may have accidentally spilled that I was helping you. And, stubborn as he is. . . Um. . . *The sound of footsteps came up behind Ragyr.* He's, uh, helping.
<Deriaz> *Deriaz grinned, and stood next to Ragyr, arms crossed. He didn't say a word. He looked a little bigger, though, then normal. On his back was his normal Tower Shield, but he had now two Bastard Swords strung on his back, along with another one on either side on his legs.*
<Sho> *Sho swore in Draconic.* Nothing I'll say will change your mind, will it?
<Deriaz> *Deriaz grinned.* Nope. Not a thing. You want his help? You're getting mine, then, too.
<Sho> *Sho sighed.* Fine, BUT, Ragyr will have the finishing move on Aemilius, only him.
<Deriaz> *Deriaz shrugged.* Whatever floats your boat.
<Sho> *To both:* Ok, we stick with Aemilius and Axalise, no matter who is dying on the other side you will stick, got it?
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *The two of them nodded.*
<Sho> Ok, lets go. *Sho said with a frown on his face. He pushed the gates open, the War is starting.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *The two followed, silently. Ragyr shot and angry glare at Deriaz, though, who only grinned.*
<Sho> *Battle noise is heard in the easy side of the harbor, so Sho lead the Forged to the West, toward the Lobster, where Aemilius and Axa watched.*
<Sho> *They ran and noticed Aemilius and Axalise on top of a building, watching the war.*
<Ragyr/Deriaz> *Ragyr looked up and grinned.* Ragyr: Not much for a leader. Not in the fight, helping out, but instead watching. . . *Deriaz nudged him in the side, signaling him to be quiet.*
<Sho> *Aemilius noticed Sho, Ragyr, and Deriaz* Sho? You’re alive? So the rumor was true, you have been reborn, and you look more like a Drow now too, and are those eyes. . .? Your normal eyes? Hahaha! This is great, come and celebrate, watch Stormreach fall part by part!
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *By instinct, Deriaz drew one of his Bastard Swords. Ragyr snapped his fingers, as a staff materialized in his hands. They looked to Sho, waiting on orders on what to do.*
<Sho> Sho: No! We are here to stop this, you WILL die NOW! Ragyr, Deriaz, NOW!
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *The two nodded, and Deriaz took off towards the building, quickly climbing a tower of boxes towards the roof. Ragyr began to glow with dark runes covering his body, as two purple missiles shot out of his hand, flying at Aemilius.*
<Sho> *Aemilius smiled. He and Axalise both summoned Hell Hounds. Aemilius then drew his Khopesh, and his shield.* To the death my Son! HAHAHA! *Aemilius blocked with his shield and summoned a Wraith.*
<Sho> *Sho jumped to the roof, drawing his rapiers.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz grunted slightly as he reached the roof. He regained his composure quickly, rushing at Aemilius, but stopped as the Wraith summoned. He quickly sheathed the sword, drawing a different one, and took a slash at the ghost.*
<Ragyr> Oh, sure, leave me down here. *Ragyr sighed, and walked over casually to the boxes, taking his time climbing up.*
<Sho> *Axa cast grease on the roof's edge, hoping to make the Hero's fall.*
<Sho> *Sho bends his knees so he can get balance, and slowly inches his way to the hell hounds*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz slipped to one knee, but didn't fall completely. He rolled awkwardly away from the Wraith, towards another Hell Hound, which he took a stab at.*
<Sho> *Aemilius blocked the blast with his shield and chuckled.* *Axalise casted Ray of Frost at Ragyr.* *Sho got off the grease, and tumbled forward, stabbing at the hell hound he first could reach.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr tried to move out of the way gracefully from it, but his foot slipped in the grease as he did. He fell to the roof as the ray shot over him.* Ragyr: And I wanted to come out of this clean, too.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz grinned, and slid across the grease like ice. He slid his way over to Ragyr, lifting him up and setting him out of the grease. Deriaz switched swords, to one covered in Acid, and charged (but more slid) through the grease at Aemilius.*
<Sho> *Axa cast burning hands not at the trio, but at the grease spell, making a wall of fire.*
<Sho> *Sho finally killed the hell hound, and turned to Deriaz.* Get Axalise, Deriaz, go get Axa!
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr's eyes went wide as the fire engulfed Deriaz. A second later, Deriaz rolled out of it, landing on his back.* Ragyr: Careless. *He laughed, and made his way over to Deriaz. His hands turned white. At contact with Deriaz, the burn marks disappeared. Deriaz nodded to Sho as he got up slowly.* Deriaz: Sure thing. *He made his way around the wall of fire, and as he got Axalise in his line of sight, he charged again.*
<Sho> *But it was too late, Axa casted wall of ice between Sho and the 2 Forged. It was up to Sho to stop his own sister who he used to care for.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz stopped on a dime, and cursed.* Deriaz: Aaaaalright, then. *He turned to Aemilius, and unhooked the shield on his back. Slowly, he inched his way forward, keeping a defensive stance, Ragyr laughed to himself, a complete 180 behind Aemilius.*
<Sho> *Sho attacked Axa, rapiers slicing at his sister. Axalise casts fireball at him, breaking part of Sho's armor off, but he still charged, despite the pain.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Once Deriaz was within striking range of Aemilius from his slow creeping, he couldn't help but laugh out loud.* Deriaz: Well, doesn't this look familiar, hm? The two of us, facing off again.
<Sho> Aemilus: Hehehe, except I will kill you this time. *He shield bashed Deriaz, and cast fireball at Ragyr with his sword hand. Aemilius came back with his Khopesh at Deriaz.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz took the hit from the shield, and slid back slightly. Ragyr's eyes went wide again, and he jumped to the side, but it wasn't enough. It engulfed his left side, and he hit the roof.*
<Sho> *Sho sliced Axa's robe with his flaming rapier so his weapon wouldn't freeze*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz grinned at the Khopesh hit the shield.* Deriaz: Oh, come on now. You can do better. You did so well last time. *He swung his foot out under the shield, attempting to trip him, as he brought his sword down, trying to sunder Aemilius's armor. He prayed one of the two would hit.*
<Sho> *Axalise whacked Sho in the stomach with her staff, making him kneel over for a second.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr sat up, and groaned.* Ragyr: Not my day, today. *He shrugged, and healed himself. He stood up, and the runes began to glow again. A ball of green appeared in his hand, and slowly began to take shape.*
<Sho> *Aemilius did not trip, but the sword hit him, yet did very little damage because it bounced off his armor.*
<Sho> *Sho stabbed Axa with his shocking burst rapier. She stopped, and blood poured from her mouth. The blood was the same color as her hair and lips: deep blood red. Sho pulled the sword out, and tears came down from his eyes.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr grinned. Deriaz, on the other hand, rolled his eyes. The two were obviously talking between each other. Ragyr snapped, and the green shape turned into an arrow, which floated in the air. He took a step to the left, and began to summon another two arrows.*
<Sho> Sho: Why Axa, why did you join him? Sorry, my little sister.
<Ragyr> *Ragyr moved quickly, summoning a flurry of arrows, dripping with poison in the air. He laughed loudly, and snapped again. The arrows rocketed forward at Aemilius.*
<Sho> *Aemilius noticed Deriaz roll his eyes, and tripped Deriaz, turning to Ragyr, with a spell being cast. A skeleton was summoned, and took the arrows for him, being entirely destroyed.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz fell to the ground, and Ragyr sighed. Another snap, and a red aura covered Deriaz for a second. His eyes turned red, and he glared at Aemilius. He swung the sword at him again, seemingly stronger than the last time he swung.*
<Sho> *Aemilius took the bow, his armor bending slightly this time at his back.* ****! *He cursed.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz grinned wildly behind his mask, apparently liking this flood of rage. He swung again, recklessly, at Aemilius.*
<Sho> *Aemilius parried, and slashed at the body of Deriaz more quickly and harder. Deriaz could tell that the Emperor was ****ed.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz fell backwards, and the red in his eyes was gone instantly. He quickly regained his composure, and took a defensive stance. Ragyr began to glow again, ready to cast something.*
<Sho> *Aemilius cast Bull Strength on himself and swung the Khopesh so hard at Deriaz's shield, it dented.* Aemilius: Do not oppose me!
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *A white aura surrounded Deriaz's shield after the hit landed. Ragyr laughed. Deriaz nodded to him, and glared back at Aemilius.* Deriaz: Sorry, got orders to. *He quickly sheathed the acid-coated sowrd, and drew one that seemed to glow with pure good. He grinned, and lifted the shield again.*
<Sho> *Sho laid his sister's body down and faced Aemilius who was really ****ed. He charged at his Uncle.* Aemilius: I am the great grandson of Vulkoor, also known to you as the Trickster! Do you really think you can defeat me!? *He bashed Deriaz with the shield so hard that Deriaz was pushed almost off the roof. He faced Ragyr and cast Hypnotic Pattern, and did the same to Deriaz.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr quickly ran out of it, but Deriaz wasn't as lucky. The colors began to hypnotize him, and he began to waver back and forth, under the spell's effect.*
<Sho> *Sho jumped at the distracted Aemilius, and knocked the shield and khopesh out of his hands, leaving Aemilius with no weapon other than magic.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr grinned at the turn of events.* Ragyr: Nicely done, elf! *He pointed a finger at Aemiliues, and a ray of flame shot from his hand, straight for Aemilius.*
<Sho> *Aemilius grabbed Sho by the neck, and threw him to the roof. He proceeded to kick his foster son's leg so hard, the leg snapped in two. Aemilius did not see the spell coming towards him, and it hit him in the face, burning the entire right side.* Aemilius: AAAAAHHHH! You Forged BASTARD! I will KILL you PAINFULLY FOR THIS!!! *The evil Drow charged Ragyr with his fists only, swinging hard.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr grinned, and sidestepped around a majority of the punches. A few clipped him, but he didn't seem to mind. He laughed once he had gotten Aemilius to go in a half circle.* Ragyr: And this is where I take my leave. *A pillar of magic engulfed him, and he leaped over Deriaz, who was charging straight behind him-- At Aemilius.*
<Sho> *Aemilius stopped, and saw the Forged running towards him. He threw a punch at Deriaz, denting him in the chest, but was knocked down in the effort, almost going through the roof. Blood came from the mouth-- The blood of a cursed, evil Drow.*
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz coughed, but grinned at the hit. Ragyr walked casually over, and slapped a white hand on Deriaz's chest, fixing the dent. The runes on Ragyr's body were beginning to die out.* Ragyr: Nice hit, if I say so myself. / Deriaz: Nice plan, if I say so myself.
<Sho> Aemilius: **** you all!
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz pointed the sword at Aemilius, but glanced over at Ragyr.* Deriaz: So, Sho said you were supposed to do the honors? Or would you rather me?
<Sho> *Sho limped over to his Uncle.* Sho: There, we are gone, Axa is dead. You have failed. *Aemilius chuckled a wounded laugh.* Aemilius: No, I have not. You will take the throne, eh? If you do, I have not failed. You will have problems. . . And so will Stormreach.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr groaned, and snatched the sword out of Deriaz's hand.* Ragyr: If it will get this sappy family reunion scene over with faster, I'll do it.
<Sho> *Sho didn't say anything, just limped away to the two Forged.* Sho: Ragyr. . . Finish him.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr laughed.* Ragyr: Gladly. *He took a step up near Aemilius's head, but out of the way of his hands. By habit, he started cutting into the left side of Aemilius's face, but not trying to kill him. He drew an intricate R on his cheeck. Ragyr glanced up at Sho.* Ragyr: Unless you want this done quickly?
<Sho> Sho: Mark him, and kill him, but quickly. . . And painfully.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> Ragyr: Alright then! *He glanced down at Aemilius.* Sorry, employer's orders. The humiliating thing. . . Just my own little flavor. *He stuck the tip of the sword in Aemilius's mouth, letting it sit there for a moment as the taste of it settled before thrusting it down until Ragyr felt the roof, and continued pusing a little farther. Ragyr let go of the sword, and clapped his hands together.* Ragyr: Well, what a day this turned out to be, hm?
<Sho> Good. A swell day. *Sho said, lying.* Come, take the bodies, we go to proclaim the news to the army. And it is time for me to take the throne.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr pulled the sword out, tossing it to Deriaz, who sheathed it without removing the blood. The two lifted the body, swinging it over Deriaz's shoulder. Ragyr then moved over, swinging Axalise's body onto his own shoulder.* Both: Lead the way.
<Sho> Keep her body intact. She will get a proper funeral. . . Unlike Aemilius.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr shrugged, but nodded.* Ragyr: Alight, whatever you say.
<Sho> *Sho led Deriaz and Ragyr to the battle. At the sight of their leader dead, and Sho alive, no less standing, and the will that Aemilius wrote saying that Sho owned it all now, they stopped fighting. They bowed to Sho, took their casualties and went back onto the ships, waiting for an order. Sho gave the body of Axalise to Sorgo, and told him to get her ready for a proper burial. Then, he turned to face the Forged.*

<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz saluted in honor, but Ragyr only tapped his foot, as if waiting for something.*
<Sho> The body of Aemilius will be a little ticket to help you get the position I promised. His body will come with us. We leave tomorrow morning. *He pointed to a black and orange ship.* That is yours. *He then pointed to a black and green ship.* That is mine. You will follow my ship to Khorvaire. The Drow on your ship will sail, and will follow your command.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr stared at his ship, with pure happiness in his eyes.* Ragyr: It's perfect! It's incredible! I--- *Deriaz interrupted.* Deriaz: Can't accept it. *Ragyr stopped, staring at the boat, mouth wide open.*
<Sho> It is not your ship to keep, Deriaz. It is just for your trip.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz shook his head.* Deriaz: I know. And that's the reason we can't accept it. *Ragyr spun around, glaring at him. Deriaz stared at him for a few moments, in silence. Ragyr eventually crossed his arms, but Deriaz shook his head. Ragyr whirled around, but Deriaz shrugged-- All done in silence. Deriaz turned to Sho.* Deriaz: I'm not leaving. Sorry. *He grinned slightly to himself behind the mask.*
<Sho> *Sho smiled.* Glad to hear that Deriaz.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz nodded, but Ragyr just stared at the ship. He eventually turned to face Sho.* Ragyr: Ok, so he's not leaving. I'm still getting that money and power you talked about, right?
<Sho> But I promised Ragyr. He is going to go get a position, and it is his choice to come back or not. You two are connected, but are seperate. He goes, I promised.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz shook his head.* Deriaz: He's not leaving either. / Ragyr: WHAT!? *The black Warforged stared at him in disbelief. Deriaz sighed.* Deriaz: I know we're connected, but. . . Still. . . Though we aren't exactly the fondest of each other, I kinda need him here. . . Y'know?
<Sho> HEY! Deriaz! He just got a job from me. He WILL get paid. I promised, and he risked his life to work for me!
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz shrugged.* Deriaz: Then pay him some other way. He's not leaving.
<Sho> Just let him go to get his job. I'll make sure he gets back. The Lord of Blades will have him be located here, if I ask.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz shook his head again. He felt his neck getting a little sore from doing so.* Deriaz: That's exactly why I can't let him go. I don't want him doing any more jobs, though I know he will. And I **** sure don't want him doing it under the Lord of Blades-- Not after hearing about him from Jaggie. *Ragyr groaned, but didn't say anything.*
<Sho> Hey, I am friends with Lord of Blades. . . The only breather friend. . . He is fine, and so will be Ragyr.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deraiz crossed his arms.* Deriaz: Are you listening to me at all, or has this new power already gone to your head?
<Sho> The worst that can happen is Lord of Blades asks him to fight for Mournland to protect Mournland, but that will only happen. . . NEVER! Ragyr? You listening to him? What is going on?
<Deriaz/Ragyr> Deriaz: And the best that can happen is he stays here, keeping himself happy by working for himself, and taking whatever jobs HE wants, not what that. . . Chump wants.
<Sho> That CHUMP is the only reason you Forged are not still fricken slaves!
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr sighed.* Ragyr: I'm telling you. . . Stub-born. I'm all for leaving. Don't have anything to my name but this staff. *He lifted the stick slightly.* Ready to go when you are. *Deriaz laughed.* Deriaz: Am I supposed to worship this Blades guy, then? Cause I'm not seeing the point. *Deriaz shrugged.* But I digress. He's not going. Case closed.
<Sho> No, you respect him, and not talk back. You can disagree with him all you want, but respect your Lord of the Blades. Ragyr. . . I leave tomorrow morning, with or without you, but I prefer with.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz shrugged again.* Deriaz: Tell him to say that to my face then. *He laughed.* Cause right now, I'm standing by what I said. That includes him not leaving. *Ragyr sighed.* Ragyr: You know, if he's not gonna let me leave, it's probably pointless to argue. You don't know him as long as I have. He can argue for hours on end.
<Sho> Don't let this 'Runt' boss you around. Come, Ragyr, ignore him. He has no power over you! And if he does, I'll make sure it goes away.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr looked between the two, as if deciding something. Deriaz didn't look back at him. Ragyr sighed, and took a step back, standing behind Deriaz.* Ragyr: Look, it's hard to explain. . .
<Sho> *Sho looked at Deriaz's eyes behind the mask.* I liked you better when you were depressed.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz grinned.* Deriaz: Yeah, well, I kind of came to realize. . . With the whole Varro situation, everyone was depressed. Ya gotta have at least one person you can turn to, y'know?
<Sho> *He looked back at Ragyr.* Look, if you can't leave, I'll still get you the job, even if I have to bring the Lord himself.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Ragyr's eyes lit up, looked pleased. Deriaz only shrugged.* Deriaz: Fine, bring him then. And I'll talk to the. . . *He thought for a moment, and grinned.* To the porcupine-forged myself.
<Sho> *Sho chuckled.* He does not talk to your type.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> Deriaz: So I hear. All the more reason for me to meet him.
<Sho> *He stared Deriaz face to face for a few moments.* Go help the wounded, Deriaz.
<Deriaz/Ragyr> *Deriaz nodded.* Deriaz: Now that's an order I can take. *He turned, and headed to the first injured person he could find, leaving Ragyr alone with Sho.*
<Sho> The Heroes of Stormreach have won, Clan Scorpion Imperial is under my command, and I have politics to deal with. And this blue Forged gets in my way! Bad evening, Ragyr. The evening is off to a bad start.
<Ragyr> *Ragyr stared back at Deriaz, but nodded to Sho.* Yeah, well. . . He seems to do that a lot. Causes a lot of problems. . . *He turned to face Sho.* the evening can only get better, though, right? I mean, aren't you rich now?
<Sho> Rich with gold. Lost my friends, but who cares. Sho Drizzin the Lavender died. Sho Scorpio the Emperor lives.
<Ragyr> *Ragyr laughed.* That's the idea. Look alive! You've got an empire to run. *He turned to look back at Deriaz.*
<Sho> Don't worry, Ragyr. I will get you your position and your power. With my ship so fast, I'll be back in a month tops, with gold, with news.
<Ragyr> *Ragyr turned back to Sho.* How? You heard the fool. He's not going to let me go with you. And I doubt you're actually going to bring THE Lord of Blades here.
<Sho> Wanna bet?
<Ragyr> *Ragyr laughed again, louder this time.* I would love to meet him, then.
<Sho> If I bring HIM the body of Aemilius Scorpio, and say you killed him, I won't have to bring him. He will come.
<Ragyr> *Ragyr rubbed his hands together.* One simple job, and I'm getting a reward more than even my hardest brought in. *He cackled.*
<Sho> Rest well my friend. *Sho turned around and headed towards the ships.*
<Ragyr> *Ragyr nodded.* Oh, indeed, I will. *He continued to chuckle.*
<Sho> *He turned quickly and tossed Ragyr a scroll, who caught it easily.*
<Ragyr> *He blinked once at it.* What's this? *He unfurled it, and began skimming it.*
<Sho> That is my deed to my home in House D. Give it to Hope of the Lady. And tell her. . . I'm sorry.
<Ragyr> *He nodded.* You bet. *His eyes dimmed slightly, and a little devious grin began to form at his lips.*

[Captian_Watcher]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
Clan Scorpion Imperial
Sho's Fate? Last Chapter of many...


The sun was about to rise in an hour or so, and Sho was ready to go. He packed all his things, and headed for his ship. Aemilius was stopped and killed, and so was Sho’s sister Axalise. Clan Scorpion Imperial was stopped from taking over Stormreach, and now Sho is the emperor. He was heading to Khorvaire, to the ShadowCrags Mt., where the major city of CSI was located, and then to the Mournlands, to talk to Lord of the Blades into coming to Stormreach and making Ragyr the new seconded in command since Bastard died. Sho sighed. He had lots of work to do. Earlier in the morning, way before the sun was going to rise; Sho got a letter that said he had a hearing with the Silverflame about what will happen to Clan Scorpion in 2 months in Flamekeep. Sho just threw the letter away, he hated the Silverflame.



Sho boarded his black and green ship. The ship of the emperor. The Drow bowed as he entered, he gave them a wave to get back to getting ready to leave. Sho walked to the cabin of his ship, motioned the captain of the ship to depart, shut his door and sat at his table, facing the window, facing Stormreach, facing the sunrise. He watched the city as the water element and the wind in the sails took the ship away, farther and farther away, from his friends, his former guild, his real home. Sho got up, and shut the curtains to the giant window. Times have changed, life will be different. And he had a promise to keep. Ragyr will be second in command.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 2, continued
Identity Theft


Deriaz scanned the Harbor left and right as he walked. It was becoming standard routine for him. Ranux had been missing for the past few weeks, and Deriaz had no clue where to find him. He had asked around for the short, green Warforged, but no one had seen him. He didn’t want to risk talking to Ranux’s own master, either. Because, he figured, that wouldn’t be suspicious at all.

After a few moments of walking and looking, he was back on the dock where he had first given the bow to Ranux. Deriaz sighed, and his eyes dimmed. He let his thoughts drift as he stood at the end of the dock, letting the sounds of the crashing waves calm his nerves.

Footsteps behind him. Heavy. He turned, and saw Ragyr walking towards him, with Sho’s house deed in hand, or whatever it was. He looked determined.

By instinct, Deriaz saluted Ragyr. “And what do I owe this visit to?” he sighed.

Ragyr shook his head. “Cut the small talk. Who’s this Ranux?”

Deriaz blinked in confusion. “Wha-. . . What are you talking about? Did you see him!?”

“I did. Earlier. Near the Lobster. But that’s—“

Deriaz pushed by him. Ragyr fell backwards, nearly falling off the dock. He growled. “I’m not through here!” Deriaz continued walking, but Ragyr got up quickly, and chased the blue Forged down. “I said I’m not through!” Deriaz continued walking, seeming intent on finding Ranux. Ragyr, in a fit of rage, grabbed the back of Deriaz’s mask. He tugged, and the knot came undone. The fabric tore off his face, leaving Deriaz’s face exposed.

Instantly, Deriaz’s arms covered his face, leaving only his eyes exposed again. He whirled around, and glared at Ragyr. “Give it back. You know I can’t walk around without it,” Deriaz hissed. Ragyr only laughed.

He spun it around in his left hand. “Oh, but see, you forget about the bounties. As much as I’d just love to give it back to you, I have that as a little bonus. Now, hear me out: Who is Ranux?”

Deriaz sighed, but kept his arms over his face. “He’s just a dock worker. No one important.”

“Then why are you helping him?”

Deriaz shrugged. “I. . . Don’t know. Because I can, really.”

“Because you can. . . Hmph. Right. Now, about that little scene in the tavern. In case you need a refresher, I’m talking about that human you almost murdered. You’re lucky that Jaggie character and those little fleshies were there to stop you, or their poor little runt would have another bounty on his head. What made you act like that?”

Deriaz shrugged again. “I. . . Don’t know. I just. . . Went crazy, I guess.”

“Right. Crazy. That’s exactly what you think, isn’t it. . .” Ragyr lowered his voice, “exactly how you used to be. . .”

Deriaz cocked his head slightly in confusion. “What was that last part?”

Ragyr shook his head. “Nothing important. You’re absolutely sure that this. . . Ranux. . . Has no other names?”

Deriaz’s mouth dropped slightly in disbelief. “He’s a dock worker, not a double agent or something. What has gotten into you?”

Ragyr shrugged. “Spur of the moment, I guess,” he sighed, shoving the mask back into Deriaz. “Take it. I don’t need it now. Cover up your hideous self, and go ahead and look for your little friend.”

Deriaz nodded as he tied the orange mask back to his face. “You sure you’re alright?”

Ragyr waved the question away. “Yeah, sure. I’m fine. Go, before I decide to take up that bounty cause again on your head.” Without waiting for an answer, Deriaz scurried away, leaving Ragyr to his own thoughts.

“. . . Why does that little green Forged remind me so much of. . .” he trailed off, mumbling to himself.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 2, continued
Identity Theft


Deriaz kicked up the dirt as he walked. How could he have been so stupid? He had seen Ranux wandering in the Harbor, and ran to meet him, but a group of adventurers passed between the two. A second later, they had passed, and Ranux was gone. Deriaz was beginning to think he was dealing with a ghost.

He continued on his non-planned trip, watching the dust kick up around him as he walked. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the soft footsteps creeping up behind him. In a moment, a black hand was on his mouth, and it dragged him into a nearby alleyway, close to the Fellowship guild hall.

The next thing he knew, he felt himself going through the air, and slamming into the wall. His vision blurred as he hit it, and he only saw a black figure wielding a staff charging at him. The staff landed squarely on the side of his neck, sending him toppling over.

Deriaz rolled quickly away from his attacker as the staff slammed down where he was not a second ago. He shook his head, and his vision began to return. He recognized the figure instantly to be Ragyr, coming at him again with the staff. The air whistled as he brought it down, but Deriaz jerked his hand up, catching it.

“Are you insane!?” he growled. “You can’t be bold enough to try to kill me again. Not after what happened the last time. You kill me, and you’ve sentenced yourself to a death bed.”

Ragyr laughed. “I’m not here to kill you. Only to teach a lesson,” he grinned, and his knee jerked up, planting itself firmly in Deriaz’s chest. Deriaz lurched back, and felt the staff collide with the right side of his body, pushing him into the wall.

<What made you tell her, hm?> he heard Ragyr’s voice echo in his mind. The staff came again, landing in the right side of his body again. <That memory is mine, not yours, to tell. And you just came straight out and told her!>

Deriaz looked confused through the pain. He responded audibly to Ragyr. “I have no idea what you—“ he started, but a fist in his chest cut him off and sent him backwards.

<Your conversation with Jaggie. Don’t tell me you already forgot it. The one where you just so casually brought up the memory of a fire?> Ragyr growled, and grabbed Deriaz’s right arm. He straightened it out, and brought the staff upward quickly into Deriaz’s elbow, bending the arm backwards. Deriaz growled in pain, and by instinct, swung at Ragyr with his free fist. The black Warforged only took a step back, dodging the attack easily. Ragyr let go of Deriaz, and spun the staff around.

<That was my memory, as I said. Not yours. Keep it quiet. I don’t need anyone knowing what I’ve been through,> Ragyr barked, narrowing his eyes at Deriaz.

Deriaz could only shrug. <But, the memory. . . That fire was huge. And we were running from it—Why?>

Ragyr responded with the staff. It whistled through the air again, slamming into the right side of Deriaz’s head. The blue ‘Forged fell to the ground in a daze. <I don’t want to talk about it! Just keep it quiet! You understand!?> Deriaz shook his head, trying to get his vision straight again. Ragyr interpreted it as a negative to his question.

The sound of crackling flame came to Deriaz’s ears, and he looked up in time to see a jet of flames come from Ragyr’s hand. He barely had time to tumble away, though the flames still lapped at the right side of his body. Ragyr quickly turned to a nearby box, and lit it on fire as well. Carefully, yet quickly, he lifted the box, and hurled the flaming object at Deriaz. Deriaz tried to tumble away again, but the box clipped him on the right side of his body. He felt ash and flame cover the right side of him.

He kicked the box’s flame out, worried more about lighting the building next to them on fire than of Ragyr. When Deriaz looked up again, though, Ragyr was missing, almost as quickly as he had come.

<I don’t even know you anymore,> he sighed, not caring if Ragyr was listening or not anymore. He got no reply.

Deriaz collected himself, and brushed himself off. He quietly slipped out of the alleyway, and scanned the cityscape, making sure no one was looking over to see what had just occurred. He only saw a few people, and a rather large, black Warforged questioning a person. Quietly, he moved down the street, and slipped into the Fellowship guild hall. He took a spot against the wall, and—Seeing no one around—untied his mask. Carefully, he began to clean it off.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Name Project
Forward

((An OOC explaination of the project:

Of late, there's been a lot of talk concerning Sir Lawrence, especially after recent events. This talk is often light hearted and out of character. Some of us even desired to include his appearence and the bizarre happenings in the city in an in-character story. But alas, due to legalities, Sir Lawrence has informed us that he is unable to 'officially' appear as an NPC in any player created DDO stories as it were. So we've found a way 'around' this.

To understand how this will work, if you've ever read Lord of the Rings, you are aware that Gandalf had several names he was called by various people of middle earth:
Gandalf, Gandalf Greyhame, Stormcrow, Mithrandir, Incanus, Olyrin, servant of Valar, Tharkun, the white rider, etc.

Players of the roleplaying guild were asked to submit their take on a nick-name for Sir Lawrence, so that hence forth he could be a working part of the in character stories, without infringing on anything. So far, the established thing about Sir Lawrence is... he is no Deneith. He is more of a supernatural being. Kind of a DDO version of Bacchus really by some standards.

Stories found here are seperated by author and chapters as necessary, until concluding when the story blurs back into The Ambassadors storyline, as Varro and Uxor's story has always revolved heavily around the in game events. Some of the players offered very literal accounts of the antics in game, while others use a far more liberal explaination.

Non the less, it should provide you with a lengthy read, and hopefull as good of a time as we experience roleplaying these stories. Enjoy!

- Merlask
Ambassador of the Fellowship

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Name Project
Volumn I: The Watcher

Submitted by Points
--------------------------------------
Points meets Sir

We were all waiting for the big event. My Guild mates and I had gathered in our usual haunt, The Golden Phoenix. Tonight was it. The man, Sir Lawrence was coming to town and word had it that you could win a Vorpal Sickle from him. As a Sickle can be used by anyone and Vorpals cut off people’s heads, everyone wanted to be chosen.

Points wasn’t sure what would happen but it definitely didn’t go the way he thought. First after much animated discussion with those gathered we decided to go do some Fight Club while we waited for Mr. Big Britches to show up. We had just stripped down and were beginning to descend to the brawling area, when Varro shouts "Oh my god! He’s here!" Now picture five naked adventurers ready to brawl suddenly in the presence of a Lord of Stormreach.

It was quite comical watching as everyone hurried to dress. Once everyone was properly attired, the introductions began. Varro being the Ambassador introduced himself first and they began a conversation, which ultimately worked into the contest, Trade or No Trade. It was nerve wracking to watch and wonder if I would get a chance at the Sickle. In the end I did not. I was happy for Varro, but as everyone else, I would have liked a shot.

In the end, Sir Lawrence, a 12 th Order Paladin by my observations, cast numerous Disco balls and everyone danced in celebration. This went on for a few minutes and then he bid us adieu and teleported to another location. At that moment around us appeared a bunch of kobolds. We set upon them immediately before they could assault us. After a few swings it was apparent that these were no ordinary Kobolds. While I was striking fast, hard and well, they seemed little damaged and continued to stand there. I pressed my assault fully expecting they would launch an attack at any moment. I eventually dropped my dancing partner and looked for another. The remaining kobolds seemed well in hand so I took a breather.

While Varro was hacking at another one, he asked me to see to a new recruit named Jinna who should be walking in at any moment. I turned and searching the bar’s interior found a young woman with a shocked expression on her face observing the carnage. Not wanting to scare her more, I sheathed my weapons and smoothed my hair making sure to blot any blood drops as best I could. Pasting on my biggest smile I approached her. "You must be Jinna…"

Her near vacant stare captured my eyes. "Is Kobold baiting a common event here in Stormreach?" As kobold screams echoed in the background, I replied, "No tonight is a special occasion. Sir Lawrence was just here and left us a lovely parting gift. As the last one fell, I asked Jinna to a seat so we might talk. I asked her the usual questions. Where was she from? Why did she come to Stormreach? Why did she wish to join the guild? All of these answered while people celebrated victory over the mysterious and menacing standing kobolds. After finishing up the interview and inviting her into the guild, I decided to try my luck with Sir Lawrence in other locations.

I spent the next hour and a half running throughout Stormreach to try and find him again. I did not, however and returned to the Phoenix, just as everyone had decided to try Sharks and Minnows. We made it to the Hammersmith Inn without incident and all entered the Brawling area. Uxor explained the rules to everyone and we began. A few hours in, I noticed a newcomer. As the Minnow leader it was my job to orient newborn minnows. I hailed him as I approached and Sir Lawrence quickly shook his head, not wanting to be recognized by the others.

When we finished the run I was surprised to see him still alive. He had made it and lived to swim another round. After a few runs, he finally had enough and spoke briefly to Uxor, Varro, Liyra and I and we thanked him for coming. Liyra was barely able to speak to him and eventually did get singled out for a hello. There were no fireworks when he left this time, except for the swooning ladies. We continued to run for a while longer and were informed that Sir Lawrence observed us for a long time. It was disturbing to think he was watching us running around in our undergarments, but such it is with the Lords of Stormreach.

Ever since that day, I have thought of Sir Lawrence as ‘The Watcher’.

- Points DeWay

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Name Project
Volumn II: Dances With Kobolds

Submitted by Jinna
-----------------------------------
((Here's hoping I made deadline or, if not, that people enjoy this anyway. If it's not clear, it picks up where "Jinna's arrival to Stormreach" leaves off. Apologies to Points and Liyra for not clearing with them how I portray them. I tried to base this off real in-game interactions, so I hope it's at least close to accurate. Also, Jinna appears to have adopted my habit of swearing in "British". If anyone happens to be offended by use of "bloody" as a curse, please let me know, and I'll stop using it.))

Jinna squared her shoulders and smoothed down her blond hair where it had gotten disheveled in her search of the Marketplace. She took a deep, steadying breath and fixed a warm, friendly smile on her face as she opened the door to the Phoenix. Rule one: always make a good first impression.

She paused in the doorway to look around, letting her eyes adjust to the interior lighting. None of the patrons near the door looked likely; few were elven and all were too absorbed in their drinks or companions to be waiting for someone. She heard some noise coming from the back of the bar and headed in that direction.

Jinna found herself approaching a chaotic scene that her mind classified somewhere between a dance party and a bar brawl. A red-haired man caught her eye, striking her as somewhat familiar. Hmm… red hair, strong features, narrow tuft of hair on his chin. Why do I recognize him? Something about the eyes, maybe. After a moment’s contemplation, Jinna cursed herself for an idiot. He looks familiar, does he? Well, I’ve only been seeing his face posted on every wall since I got off the boat. Time to work on those observational skills. At least if Varro’s here, that means I’m probably in the right place.

Before she had time to berate herself further for her lapse in identification, she was approached politely but cautiously by a pale elven gentleman. “Jinna, I presume?” he asked, greeting her with a slight bow.

Quickly smoothing her face back into its smile, she responded warmly. “That I am. And can I assume that you would be Fellowship Officer Points?”

“I do have that honor,” he replied, returning her smile. “I appreciate you meeting me here.” He gestured her to a table and glanced around as if seeking a barmaid before drawing himself up short. “If you’ll forgive the intrusion, there is one small test I’ll need to make before we can speak comfortably.”

A grinning halfling woman appeared by his side, out of nowhere as far as Jinna could tell. “Can I poke her face, Points? Can I?” she asked eagerly.

“Poke my face?” Jinna asked, looking between the two in confusion.

Trying unsuccessfully to gesture the halfling away, Points tendered her an explanation. “A minor precaution to ensure that you are who and what you say you are. We have been infiltrated recently by a shapeshifter, you see.”

“A shapeshifter?” Jinna responded, eyes widening in shock. “And you can identify one just by touching their face?” Realizing that she had instinctively tensed into a slight crouch, she forced her muscles to return to a casual, relaxed stance.

“She wears a mask,” the halfling volunteered. “You can’t see it, but you can feel the edge of it.”

“In that case, you are welcome to feel my face for this mask, although I’d prefer if there weren’t too much poking involved,” Jinna responded, bending down slightly to make the process easier for the halfling.

“Thank you for being so understanding,” Points said, shifting his posture in a way that suggested he wasn't entirely comfortable with the situation.

“Not a problem at all,” Jinna replied breezily, standing back up as the halfling woman completed her investigation. “It seems a reasonable security precaution.”

She was about to suggest they find a table for the drinks and stories portion of the evening when a loud tumult broke out from the crowd they stood on the edges of. Points and the halfling turned to look for its source, his mumbled exclamation dying on his lips as they surveyed the scene.

What moments before had been a relatively normal, if somewhat chaotic, evening revel had become utterly surreal. A group of odd-looking kobolds stood in a rapidly-clearing circle of floor. Curiously, they appeared to just be standing there, not attacking anyone or fleeing the crowded bar. Turning to ask Points if kobold-baiting was a standard tavern entertainment here, Jinna discovered that both he and the halfling woman had vanished, presumably back into the crowd. She looked back up in time to see the kobolds begin dancing, of all things. A grey-haired man in a brightly-colored robe stood in the middle of them. She saw him strike a dramatic pose as if leading the kobold dance party, but then she blinked and he was gone.

******************

The rest of the evening was a chaotic blur to Jinna’s recollection. She remembered watching in bewilderment as the crowd alternately danced with and beat on the strange kobolds. Various musicians played competing tunes to spur on both the dancing and the combat. Jinna knew that at some point later in the evening she had been swept out of the Phoenix with the noisy crowd as it relocated en masse to another tavern in a different part of the city. This bar was apparently the site of a favored sport among the Fellowship and its associates, something they called Sharks and Minnows. She grasped the rules rather quickly but opted to remain in the safe “beach” area at the top of the ladder to observe the game for a few rounds.

Jinna remembered the point at which she had decided to join in as a minnow. She’d shed her uncomfortable chain shirt and left it, her rapier, and her lute in a tidy pile on the “beach” platform while she went to find a place in the minnow pool. Based on her observation period, she had a strategy worked out: stick to the middle of the pack, be unobtrusive, stay light on her feet to dodge unexpected attacks. And it quite possibly would have worked, had she not turned the first corner straight into a magical ice storm. Bloody mages! was her only coherent thought before she hit the floor and blacked out.

Jinna did not clearly remember regaining consciousness or dragging herself back up the ladder to the “beach” platform, but she must have done so because that was where she found herself sitting now. “I think I should stick to spectating for now,” she mumbled to herself as she blinked repeatedly to try and clear her fuzzy vision. A soft chuckle from nearby told her she wasn’t the only one sitting this round out, but she couldn’t be bothered to turn her head enough to see who it had come from. Not that I’d recognize them anyway, unless it was Varro, Points, or that halfling girl. Hey, I didn’t even get her name. I’ll have to find her and ask, once the world quits moving quite so much.

Trying to get her eyes to focus properly, she returned to watching the crowd of minnows run by beneath her, studying the details of individual faces to better recognize people later. A slight frown crossed her face as she studied one man who looked vaguely familiar, as if she’d met him in passing. Jinna prided herself on her memory for faces, and to redeem her earlier mistake with Varro (which she passed off as a result of the differences between flat sketches and a real face), she was determined to place this man. Grey hair, dark eyes, silly little beard… Aha! He took off the bright robe to be a minnow.

“I knew I recognized him,” she mumbled to herself in satisfaction. “That’s Dances With Kobolds down there, that is.” At a remark from whoever else was sitting on the platform with her, she frowned and responded, “No, I do not need to see a cleric about a concussion. I’m not seeing things. Look, he’s right down there.” Jinna stared intently at the minnow pack, ready to point out the strange man as soon as he came into sight, but he never showed up again. She sighed wearily. “Never mind, maybe I did hit my head harder than I realized. I think it’s time for me to find a bed for the night before I start seeing anything else crazy.” She dragged herself to her feet, stuffing her chain shirt untidily into her bag rather than going through the bother of putting it on.

“But there were kobolds,” she muttered defiantly under her breath as she walked unsteadily out of the tavern. “And he did dance with them.”

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Name Project
Volumn III: Justhere Tawatch and the Titan Wand

Submitted by Jaggie
----------------------------------

~~~How Jaggie got the name Justhere Tawatch, and won the Titan wand (twice) pt1~~~

It was just another normal day in House Phiarlan. Jaggie was sitting in her usually spot, under a great tree, while light glittered down through the purple leaves. Two elven children ran about her in a game of tag while she played them a tune upon her flute. Just a normal day in House Phiarlan.

Jaggie's flute stuttered to a halt as the Phiarlan main gates clanged so hard against the inner walls of the House that the hinges were feared to snap clean off due to such force. Thralls of armored, blade bearing, beings of all race, creed and origin, stampeded through the gates. Yelling, screaming, arms flailing in the air.

The two elflings stared wide eyed and pale as the swarm of metal and leather flooded in. Bought children then looked at each other and ran for there distinctive homes, bound to hide underneath there beds the moment they they stepped foot into the door.

Jaggie rolled into a defensive position as she instinctively reached for her side. She cursed, as always, at herself for never carrying her mace when not out adventuring or slaying the evils that lay beneath Stormreach. She crouched down, picked up a broken tree branch and snapped it in twan over her knee. The two clubs weren't nearly as good as her acid mace, but if any of those warriors came near her they where going to learn a thing or two about attack this city.

The warriors parted as they ran around the tree. Jaggie starred blankly, her arms slowly sinking down to her sides as the mass flooded past her and turned off towards the arena.

"What in the name of all Gods?" Has the last armor clad adventurer scurried by Jaggie allowed her two improvised weapons to leave her hands and scooped up her flute again. She could hear cheering and roaring taking place at the arena now. "Some new event? Odd I never heard of any..." She flicked a bet of dirt from her flute and then followed the large dust trail left behind from the passing crowd.

A speedy line up stood at the arena doors. A funny looking gnome like creature collected peoples names as they entered and wrote them down on little white tags. "Tict, okay next!" The gnome creature slapped the tag onto the halfings chest and shove him through the door. 'I said nest. Yo 'forged. Hurry it up!"

Jaggie shook her head, realizing she was next in line. "Sorry, I'm.. I'm just here to watch," she blurted.

"Justhere Tawatch. Ok, next!" He slapped the tag onto her chest and shoved her through.

"Wait! What-"

~~~~~

A hugh crowd lined the arena stands. People were pouring out over the walkways and cramming themselves along the arena walls. Jaggie walked about, lost and confused, trying to peel the name tag off her docent. "What's going on?" She noticed a man near the center of the arena floor. Several people surrounded him like annoying flies.

<WOULD EVERYONE PLEASE TAKE YOUR SEAT AMONG THE STANDS! WE WELL BEGIN MOMENTARILY>

Everyone stopped in there tracks as they heard the command in there minds. Jaggie stood motionless, her thumb underneath the tag, her yellow eye trained on man dressed in the blue/purple robe.

The annoying flies buggered off to the stands when Jaggie finally realized she was stile on the arena floor, people where calling and ordering her to get over to the stands." Sorry, sorry," she stopped picking at the tag, took one last look at the man in the center of the arena floor, and ran to the nearest wall.

<WOULD JUSTHERE, COME HERE>

"What?" Jaggie turned back around. "Me?"

"If you win the vorpal I'm gonna laugh so hard," It was the halfling Tict. He chuckled as he shoed Jaggie towards the arena floor once more.

"Vorpal? I don't understand? What going on?" Jaggie scratched the back of her neck.

<NOW DON'T BE SHY, JUSTHERE>

"Uh, hai..." she walked up to the well groomed man. "Hello?"

"Nice name just here to watch." The man looked up at the 'forged and smirked.

"heeh... It's true." Jaggie smiled nervously. "What's going on?"

"Well, I got this wand here." With a snap of his fingers a green wands appeared in his right hand. The top of it had the sculpted head of a titan forged. "It's yours... Unless you want to roll the dice-" He spun a oddly shaped die in his left hand. He then snapped his fingers again and suddenly, in place of the wand, there was a sickle. "and try for the vorpal."

"Uh.... umm..." Jaggie scratched the back of her neck again.

"You're going to have to step it up Justhere."

"Sorry.. Uh.. I'll take the wand. Umm." She shruged, stile confused.

<SHE'LL TAKE THE WAND>

"Uh.. thank you." She stared at the wand he had placed in her hand as he waved her back to the stands.

"Be sure to enjoy the show." He flashed another smile to her then snapped his fingers again. Another wand, just like the one he had given Jaggie, materialized in his hand.

<WOULD MISURTECH COME FORWARD>

~~~~~

Jaggie sat on one of the lower steps of the stands, fiddling with the strange wand in her hand, watching as people where called up one by one. After a rather short time a number of people seemed to grow bored and started casting random cantrips to entertain their neighbors. Flashing lights and bright colours began to fill the air. Jaggie became mystified with all the noises and colours. It was to much to take. After an hour or two she staggered out of the arena and headed for home. Wand stile in hand, completely and totaly confused on how her normal day in House Phiarlan became a not so normal day talking to a man that smelt like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches....

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Name Project
Volumn IV: Rainbow

Submitted by Deriaz
----------------------------------

Deriaz stood in confusion as people ran past him, some of them just flying by, others pushing their way past him. They were coming from both directions. And he was standing in the middle of it, a literal flood of people, if you would.

Word had spread of some sort of game of hide and seek in Stormreach. As much as he wanted to play, he didn’t think he was good enough to find whomever it was they were seeking. He had tried a few times, running around the town with Blue Line. He felt like he was in the army or something, searching like crazy in every nook and cranny in the Harbor. After a few laps around, the group had gotten tired and went off to fight each other in the Phoenix. Deriaz had remained behind, to continue the search, but in the Marketplace now.

A small Halfling pushed through his legs, nearly toppling him over. Deriaz didn’t know what the prize was for finding. . . Whoever they were even looking for, but he wasn’t quite sure if it was worth it anymore.

He crossed his arms. <Hmph,> he thought, <With all these people running around, I wouldn’t be surprised if this figure didn’t even want to be found, now.>

<Oh, that’s not true,> a second voice came into Deriaz’s head, besides his own. He tried to place it as Ragyr’s, but it wasn’t as deep as Ragyr’s should be. <The people of this realm just aren’t trying hard enough.>

Deriaz had no idea what was going on, but he decided to go along with it. <Well, you know,> he laughed, <we aren’t exactly the best seekers.> Deriaz grinned at his little joke of insulting the town without them knowing.

The smile quickly melted away though as the voice thundered through the air. “Deriaz believes that the people of this realm aren’t good seekers! Perhaps he should be proven wrong, as well as in the tavern arenas!” Deriaz’s mouth dropped open at the sound of that. A few people turned and started stalking towards him. Without thinking, he ran. He shoved past anyone in his way, trying to find an escape from the people that were after him. He took a sharp right, heading down into an alleyway.

The voice came back to his head. <Come to the Lobster here, in a bit.> That was it. No meaning, no hints, just “Come.”

Deriaz shrugged. <Like I can really say no? You’d probably come find me anyway.> He wandered the alleyway for a bit longer, eventually stumbling out to the Marketplace gates. He walked through and hung a right, leading towards the Lobster. He sighed as he walked through the door to the Lobster, but stopped dead in his tracks a second later.

There were groups of people here, entering and leaving the tavern brawl area constantly. Deriaz hadn’t heard anything about a tournament. He scanned the tavern quickly, and seeing no one he didn’t recognize, walked into the tavern arena.

Inside was a group of people, not far away from the ladder, beating each other senseless. Again, no one he didn’t recognize. Deriaz sighed. <So much for “Meet me at the Lobster.”> He turned to leave, but a loud crackle from the arena stopped him. He turned quickly, and saw a man in a robe of many bright colors standing below. The man’s eyes skimmed the crowd above, and he grinned as his eyes fell on Deriaz, but he moved on quickly.

The man didn’t say a word, but motioned for the group to come down at him. Deriaz shrugged, and followed the group down, wondering if the robed man was insane, taking on a group that large by himself. The group circled him, weapons drawn, but he held no look of fear. Instead, he smirked, and snapped his fingers.

The air around them crackled, and a massive steel golem appeared above the man. Deriaz recognized it immediately as Arach’s Knight, from inside the Vault of Night. The group immediately pounced on it, but Deriaz stood back, watching. He saw the man walk out of the group, laughing to himself.

Without thinking, Deriaz yelled to the man. “Hey, uh. . .” Deriaz realized he hadn’t learned the man’s name. He scanned the man quickly, noticing the bright colored robe again. “Hey, Rainbow, you’re the one that told me to come here, weren’t you?” The man stopped, and stared in disbelief at Deriaz, as if the Forged hadn’t just called him that.

Deriaz drew a sword and rushed the man, swinging wildly at him. He figured, if they were in a tavern arena, it was perfectly fine to do so. He blinked in amazement as the sword went right through the man’s now ghostly image.

The man, otherwise known as Rainbow, sighed. “Yes, I’m the one that called you here. Now calm down, and have some fun.” He snapped his fingers again as Arach’s Knight fell, and a new creature appeared between Rainbow and Deriaz. A Mind Flayer.

Deriaz jumped back, not wanting to let another one touch his head again as Fred had, as the group jumped on it. Rainbow was nowhere to be found. In his place, however, different creatures began springing up. A Greater Air Elemental in one corner, a large snake-like lady in another.

Deriaz walked back towards the ladder, slowly. “I have no idea what I’m getting myself into, here,” he mumbled as he climbed back up the ladder. He climbed the second one, and left the brawl behind him.

Rainbow was standing in front of him, grinning. “What, leaving so soon?”

Deriaz nodded. “You’re a madman, and I need to be out looking for someone else.”

The man frowned. “Well, that’s a shame. Well, hope you had fun,” he grinned again.

“Oh, yeah, loads,” Deriaz laughed. Rainbow disappeared. A large roar came from the tavern brawl arena for few seconds later.

Deciding to live than become dragon food, or whatever had just roared, he quickly left the Tavern.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Name Project
Volumn V: Rainbow Too

Submitted by Zoltando
----------------------------------

As i was completed my scan of house deneith for the mysterious man offering a reward for finding him I called out clear to my team. If thats clear then check the catacombs you may find him there, Points responded.

All of a sudden another voice appeared in my head as almost a taunt saying are you sure its clear?

I whirled around drawing my sword bleeding flame and looked for the voice. hmm where could voicy be. feeling out with the small bit of mental magic he possesed zoltando searched for the voice that seemed to be taunting him. he felt a prescence unlike any before hiding on top of a roof.

Checking the roof quickly Zoltando saw the sillouete of a human male wearing an almost rainbow colored robe. "insult me will you" said zoltado as he drew the hidden crossbow containing a ready bolt of human slaying. "taunt this" Zoltando roared as he took aim and shot the bolt.

The figure on the roof slumped to the ground as if dead and faded away. "what" questioned Zolt as he puzzled over the fading of the body. "thats not possible". "Oh but is is" came the joking voice of rainbow from right behind Zoltando. Spinning around Zolt came face to face with what appeared to be a human male but unlike any other.

Zoltando felt the sheer power that this being radiated and instantly came on defense. "Who are you and why shouldnt I kill you" asked Zolt trying to act confident when he was almost panicking inside. "Oh i doubt you could kill me if you tried" replied rainbow, I just wanted to warn you to check twice for me in hiding.

"but if your here i found you" said zoltando feeling triumphant. If you say so said rainbow as he faded away. "****" zolt cursed. An illusion good enough to fool me, thats rare. This hunt is over declared zoltando as he activated his syberis mark of shadow and faded into the darkness of the night.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn VIII "The Avatar and the Augur" Chapter 1
(This volumn is a part of The Name Project)

Submitted by Merlask
-------------------------------------------------
*Varro ran the back of his hand across his chin, wiping away the spattering of blood. Despite the pain in his mouth, he grinned at the dwarf with the metal gauntlet for a fist, which had struck him so soundly. Granted, the fellow had needed to hop up onto a chair to reach the lanky minstrel's face... but the strike was well placed. Through a mouth full of salty red fluid, Varro chuckled and mused*
Varro: Didn't I just say 'no, you may not touch my face'?
*The dwarf raised both fists* Have at you then shapechanger!
*It was becoming such a common occurrence that he'd gotten used to the bar fights by now - and how to deal with them.*
Varro: First off *In an ever so dignified manner, he passed a hand again over his mouth, cleaning up the sanguine humors that spilled forth at his words.* Just because I decline your request does not mean I am the one you are referring to. Next, it would be polite to wait until I'd a chance to set my drink down. Lastly, disputes such as these are nothing which can't be resolved by a little music and dancing. *The whole of his speech, he'd been flamboyantly waving his arms about. With wide and rageful eyes, the dwarf realized Varro had been casting a spell towards the end part of his 'speech.' There was a sparkling, and promptly the dwarf began to uncontrollably do a jig atop the chair*

*Leaving the fellow to his dancing, Varro clambered up the ladder to the upper level of the Phoenix. He was about to head to the bar for another round of drink from the warforged tender, when a form materialized in front of him. This was not so unusual - folk teleported here, there, and everywhere in the city. Varro moved to go around them to the bar. It was then that Varro got the most distinct feeling that he was being stared at. It was none other than the form of the newly arrived person that met his gaze. The man was wearing a vestment of swirling deep purple and blue hues, and he looked very stately. His hair was short kept, and he bore well groomed mutton chops along his jaw, and a tuft of grey hair upon his chin, not terribly dissimilar to Varro's choice in grooming. He bore a shield with a symbol Varro didn't recognize - yellow, and like the skewered rays of the sun.

With a smile, Varro gave a bow to the gentleman and motioned for Cog for two rounds of the wine and glowing blue bottle this time. The stranger stared back at him with a knowing smile, but as yet, neither moved nor spoke. Varro went for a table, and gestured forth stranger to have a seat. Varro then decided to address the stranger in the manner he suspected they'd be most accustomed to... mentally.*
Varro: <Are you quite done with your little show, Mekari? You have to be the most audacious woman in all the plane, especially showing up here of all places after the incident last time>
*Varro received no reply to his comments except for the continued smiling*
Varro: <Nice look by the way. I dare say a nice change of pace from that ghastly drow guise. Won't do you much good though. You do realize the minute Uxor shows up here, she'd know it was you.> *He pushed the other glass towards the chair opposite of him, but still got no response.>
Varro: <Not thirsty? Fine. I can tell you're up to something anyway. What do you want tonight?>
<You have been chosen> *came the reply to Varro's mind. The bard's demeanor changed at that. In no way did it 'feel' like Mekari in the least. It felt different than any contact of this sort he'd experienced before. Considering the appearance, among other qualities, Varro suspected his guest to be something entirely different.*
Varro: <Oooh, I see. Well, how interesting to meet an agent of the dreaming dark up close and personal, rather than by proxy. To what do I owe the pleasure, Inspired? What have I been 'chosen' for? I assure you, I am no vessel if that was the meaning.>
*The smiling man moved towards him, and Varro felt the mental tone become more direct* <You are chosen. The rulers of revelry, of merriment, and of celebration smile upon your works, minstrel of Stormreach. Are you prepared to receive their gifts mortal?>
*Varro blinked a moment, then started to lightly chuckle*
Varro: <You're serious? Well, who shall I say is bringing this 'good news' mister...>
<I am the herald of they who hold you presently in a favored light.>
Varro: <Eh, right. Well, what say you be a good chap and let me drink in peace, mister nameless herald.>
*The smile faded from the grey haired man's face* <The favor of the gods is not to be taken lightly.>
Varro: <Look, I don't know what you are or what plane you come from, but this has been very entertaining. I'm sure you'd enjoy nothing better than seeing me groveling for mercy at your feet, petrified with awe of the gods... but overly forceful presence and telepathy do not a god make. So how about you tell me why you're really here then, hm? Unless this was it, in which case then I KNOW my mother sent you, because it's crazy enough of...>
*The figure swirled his arms, and there was a burst of twinkling golden light that erupted at the table. Varro shielded his eyes, and recognized the vision and sounds that played about him. It was a sphere of dancing, very much like his own. The lights, hypnotic drumming, and encircling colors were unmistakable. Though Varro found he didn't feel like dancing. The display was enough that he was taken a bit aback by it as he looked round. Then his eyes narrowed on the form, which stood passively before him still.*
Varro: <Impressive. How did you get around the wardings to cast that? There are protective forces in the city to prevent it, and I'd be interested to know how you mana...>
*More figures materialized around Varro, and he stood up abruptly at the sight of the pack of kobolds that appeared from, as near as he could tell, thin air. He heard a voice cry out behind him.*
"Sweet mother of all bearded folk! We're under attack!" *the dwarf he'd set to dancing had broken free of his spell, and apparently come across the scene. Varro threw a glance at the bar, and the sight of Cog cowering back was further confirmation that this indeed was not merely optical tricks visible to Varro alone. Before Varro could say or do anything, the dwarf charged upon the closest of the kobolds with a huge axe in hand. The axe of course had been intended for the minstrel, but the notion was put aside at the unusual appearance of the kobolds in the Phoenix. The little kobold took the blow indifferently, and despite the great strength of the strike, it was barely scratched by the dwarf's efforts.*
"Demons! Demons have beset the tavern!" *cried the frantically attacking dwarf, who was then joined by several others who, until that moment, had watched all in confusion.
Varro meanwhile had tried to perform his song to quell the creatures, but they seemed unaffected by the tune. Never before had Varro's song failed him. He backed away from the chaos, almost into the grey stranger. Whirling round, he called forth the full range of his magical prowess upon this strange visitor...
It was like trying to focus his energy on a void. He could not even feel resistance from the figure to the attempt, as his concentration searched out for something to take hold over. Then the mental voice of the stranger spoke, calling upon Varro by name... by Varro's true name.*

*Varro dropped the wine glass he'd been holding onto the floor, and he felt hysteria welling up quickly in himself. What was happening? Even if this was not a god, it was certainly someone he could not match. If it were a god...*
<All of your questions will be resolved> *came the voice in answer to Varro's steadily deteriorating internal monologue. The form of the grey haired being resumed the smiling as Varro rattled off the only intelligible sentences he could manage*
Varro: <Why are you here? What do you want from me? Who are you? WHAT are you?>
*The form held up its hand, and Varro stilled his questioning*
<You are favored, minstrel. As I was explaining before your rudeness, I am the Avatar of Celebration, come to bestow the gifts of They who have chosen you.> *At the mention of his behavior, Varro bowed low to the form, and remained there, staring at the ground. He could think of nothing else in the way of cordial behavior towards a god, in his increasing panic. Why was a god here for him?*
<I am an Avatar minstrel, not a god. Though I suppose by your fathoming, it is as well to call me one.>

*Varro's eyes widened as he stared at the ground, knowing with certainty now that whatever passed through his thoughts, this being would know them. He tried to focus on the situation at hand, rather than trying to stuff away fleeting images that the Avatar would have awareness to anyway. The sounds of combat still rang out as the other patrons steadily assaulted the impassive, but formidable, kobold apparitions*
Varro: <Am I dead?>
*the figure smiled* <Is that your desire?>
Varro: <NO no no, let's not jump to wishes and desires. I just don't understand. Why am I favored?>
*The Avatar chuckled at him.* <Because of your great works among the people.>
Varro: <But my works have always been...> *'Idiot', Varro told himself. 'There's no playing semantics with a god'.* <My acts haven't been for the 'betterment' of people. That they enjoy a fulfilling day is only an added end result, not my aim.>
<We are well aware of your aims, Minstrel. Your efforts have called the attentions of my domain, irregardless of what you were intending to do. Now you are given a choice. Accept the gifts I offer and serve... or reject them.>
Varro: <Serve. What do you mean by 'serve.'?>
<Serve our domain. You have been chosen.>
*This brought Varro to look up from his bowing position, and he eyed the Avatar, as well as the golden symbol upon its shield. Before he could take further thought, the Avatar addressed him.* <I will save you the trouble - This is no sign you have come upon ever before in your life time, Minstrel. Pondering the origin of it will prove fruitless. You either wish to accept, or you do not.>
Varro: <So what you are telling me is... you want me to be some kind of priest, so to speak? Tell me why they have deemed me for this. I am not a particularly religious man. Yes, I have an abstract belief in the powers that be, but I'm no holy man. The festivities I've held in the city were never remotely in honor of the gods. In all honesty, I'm a rather flippant person in terms of loyalties, by the standards of most. Yet you're telling me I am to be chosen of... They who sent you?> *Varro nodded towards the shield symbol.*
<You discredit yourself Minstrel. It is your free spirit and neutrality that make you an ideal servant. For the domain of celebration knows no good nor evil. The wicked may celebrate as readily as the pure, but for different reasons. The tiny hobgoblin rejoices when it finds pleasure, as would the great scaled dragon. The vampire marvels his triumphs in the hunt no differently than the halfling archer in victory. Now it is time to make your choice.>
Varro: <If I should refuse?>
<There will be consequences for accepting, Minstrel. You will be serving the gods until the end of your days on this plane, and perhaps beyond. There are responsibilities... but there is also great joy. Refuse, and nothing ill will come to you of it. However, this opportunity will not be offered again.> *The Avatar held out a hand and in it materialized a scepter with a strange iridescence* <If you accept, you will bare this at all times, as a sign of your devotion. Accept the will of the gods, or deny them.> *The Avatar held up the scepter and awaited his decision.*

*Varro stood up and took a hesitant step towards the scepter. To serve the domain of celebration... or live his life as he saw fit to. He found that rather than thoughts of what would happen if he said yes, his mind turned to what would be if he did NOT accept. What would he miss out on by declining the offer; the offer of a deity no less?
Varro: <If I were to choose, there is no going back is there?>
<No Minstrel. To accept is to undergo all that comes with service to our domain. To deny is to be forever deprived of it. Make your choice.>
*Varro felt a wave of coldness wash over him, as his hand met the scepter, and he heard the words* <... for all you do for the people.> *and things became a haze. All vision fell away from him, until the only sensation he was left with was the cold, and disorientation.*

*Varro started up in the bed, shaken awake by the sensation of falling. He realized the cold sensation he felt was Uxor, lying next to him asleep. It took a moment for him to comprehend where he was. He was in his bed at home. It was not yet dawn. Relief washed over him.

It had been a while since he'd had so vivid a dream. He watched Uxor sleeping, as she shifted somewhat. She must have inched towards him in the night. Her skin was unnaturally cold, like a corpse - but soft - and it was taking him some getting used to. Her icy skin brushing against him must have been what caused him to wake. He started to try and curl up with her again, but she began to fuss, and she scoffed with a hiss - her mute way of showing objection to something - at him. She swatted as if to say 'quit it.' Then Varro felt something beneath the pillow near her that practically cut him. No wonder she was fussing. He must have come to bed with weapon in hand in a drunken state. Why she'd stayed in bed for that was beyond him. Out of a desire to make up for her disrupted sleep, he pulled the thing out, and as it shimmered in his grasp when he pulled it from beneath the pillow, he nearly shrieked at the sight of the iridescent scepter.*
<You don't want to wake her do you?> *came an alarmingly familiar voice in Varro's head*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn VIII "The Avatar and the Augur" Chapter 2
(This volumn is a part of The Name Project)

*All around him he looked, but Varro didn't see the grey haired man smiling back at him this time. He could hear him however...*
<I don't have need to appear to you. My physical appearence is unnecessary, and just a courtesy really. But if it's unnerving you so much...>
*The form of the avatar, in much the same appearence as the dream, materialized sitting in the window sill by the bed.* <Better now, Augur?>
Varro: <Not really. Actually, worse infact.> *as he tried to keep Uxor covered up. It then dawned on him that it was a silly thing to worry over, for without question the avatar had probably been observing him long before it made its presence known.* <Why did you call me that? Augur?>
<Because that is who you are now, when you accepted the scepter. Remember?>
*Varro thought back, trying to recount the dream. More came to his mind suddenly than simply his taking hold of it. Dimly he became aware that there was more to recall of his dream. Through a haze, he remembered being in the Hammersmith, playing a war game with a score of citizens and guildmates. He remembered that the avatar had been there as well, though Varro was the only one aware of it for the most part. That was until another burst of the dancing sphere caught their attention. As he sifted through the visions, he found they led him to his evening with Uxor when he had stumbled into bed. The memory of this aspect of the 'dream' told him that this had been no dream at all. This had been last night.*
Varro: <What in the name of all gods happened to me? Why is it such a blur? Is it because of...> *Varro nodded to the scepter in his hand.* <this?>
*The robed avatar seemed amused.* <No actually. You were just extremely drunk. I took the liberty of fending off your hang over for you this morning. Figured you'd need a clear head today.>
Varro: <Ah. Right.> *he rolled his new title around in his mind... Augur. At least it sounded better than 'priest.' Then he looked at the sleeping Uxor a moment, then back to the grey haird form seated in his window.*
Varro: <You haven't come to tell me I must undergo some kind of vow of celebacy or something have you?>
<There are many kinds of celebration Augur. Fortunately for you, that is counted among them.>
Varro: <Ah. Right... drinking?>
<Perfectly acceptable.>
Varro: <You know... this hardly seems a very holy position thus far.> *The bard's eyes narrowed a little in suspicion. There had to be a catch to being the oracle of a god now. No position like that came without some catch.*
<Oh it will seem that way soon enough. In fact, I have a little task for you.>
*Varro furrowed his brows a moment, but was distracted by something else about his encounter.*
Varro: <You don't sound nearly so formal as last night. I rather got the impression you were, well, a demi-god.>
<Oh I am. There is a time and plac e for formality, you know this. But now that you're past all that induction and free will stuff, I can be more level with you. All the showmanship of it is to impress upon you the importance of what you've undertaken. I mean, how fair would it be of me to come to you and say 'hey son, want in on the favor of a god? You can drink and do everything you want.' You have to have accepted it under the impression of gravity or you would not have been wanted in the first place. Just added precaution. Can't say we didn't warn you.>
Varro: <A task. What task? Build a temple?>
<Don't be stupid. If I wanted a temple, I would build one myself. No my new Augur, what is wanted of you is something much more... along your line of work.>
*Varro glowered at the avatar. He glowered because the tone in his head was the same tone he gave to others when he was up to something.* <I still don't understand why you need me though.>
<I don't.>
Varro: <Then why appear to me at all?> *he crossed his arms, glancing down at Uxor to ensure that she hadn't come awake amid his mental conversation with the avatar.*
<You certainly ask a lot of questions, Augur. I'll humor you though. We don't 'need' you - we simply enjoy rewarding those who show affinity for our domain. Which is why you were selected. Not to mention, the people of this realm are fast forgetting respect for the Gods. Having one of their own to look to, and realize the wonder and joy of celebration, is most beneficial. You realize, however, that having accepted the gift, you are no longer simply an ambassador to your guild, yes? You are an ambassador of the domain of celebration. Hence your title... augur... a tool of the Gods.>
Varro: <Lovely> *He glowered more so. Then again, he knew this decision would have a price.* <So, what is my first task as Augur?>
<Well, you already agreed to it last night, but a reminder can't hurt. Check your bags, and you'll understand. Now, my second purpose is to help you with your sparring problem. I am not privy to all of your past Augur, only to that which concerns our portfolio. So why don't you tell me about this bar fighting of yours. If you're going to be our herald, it's not going to bode well to have folks constantly hitting you.>
Varro: <There was an incident> *He glanced at Uxor again, and the memories of recent events surfaced.* <She, this one here beside me, had a tiff with me over some trust issues. She was under the impression that my mother was some kind of threat to me. It was just misinformation on her part. My mother had a confrontation with her and added fuel to the fire, so to speak, while I was out of town. Apparently she convinced my sleeping friend here that I was dead, and by my mother's hands. It's not a problem that the parent of your new Augur is insane, is it?>
*The avatar shrugged.* <Never said you were chosen for your breeding, Augur.>
Varro: <Fair enough. Anyway, when all was said and done, Uxor had organized a search party, and folks were combing the city for any trace of me... or my remains. Now I've diffused the matter with the original seekers, but word of mouth has spread to the far corners of the city. Specifically, the account of my mother Mekari being able to assume different forms. She accomplishes this by means of a mask of disguise. People are now aware of the technique, so what I'm left with is people constantly requesting to paw on my face to validate if I am myself, or the 'shape-changer,' as they've come to call her. I've tried passing word through my ambassador channels... through the guild... but nothing flies as fast as rumor. Half the city thinks I'm dead or still missing.>
<So what is your plan then, my little oracle?>
Varro: <I was considering throwing a party. A LARGE party, to let word of that start passing among them.>
<That is what I like to hear. Since your birthday is fast approaching, I'll give you a few extra trinkets to help fix your event in their minds. It should help stir up conversation.>
Varro: <How did you know of my birthday?>
<Demi-god, remember?> *he lightly patted Varro atop the head like an obedient pet.* <the anniversary of one's mortal coming into being is among the greater causes to be festive. You'll catch on faster with some practice. I am curious... regarding your mother. Why not tell the people that she is no threat? Seems to me it would unravel your face petting problem.>
Varro: <It would - but it would create new problems. Mekari has a way of meddling in my affairs. The fact that the whole city wants to skin her alive keeps her at bay from unannounced visits to me. More over, she IS a threat to others, but not in a traditional sense. But the more leery people are of her, the better for them. So allowing the continued hostility buys me some discord now and again, but ultimately freedom from Mekari. It's somewhat satisfying to beat her at her own games for a change.>
<Playing people like an instrument?>
Varro: <I prefer the term 'strategic socializing.'>
<How interesting you manage to bring people together even while gone.>
Varro: <That's one way of looking at it. These gifts you mentioned...>
<Already arranged. All you need do is decide how to distribute them. You'll think of something. That is part of your task - to come up with an appropriate way to distribute the gifts of the Gods. Go take a look.> *the Avatar nodded to his bags, which were sitting across the way on the floor. *

*Varro carefully slid off the bed, and rooted through his bags. He found several odd looking wands, which he pulled out and inspected. They felt magical to say the least... filled with positive energy no less. Something else caught his eye as he started to gather up the wands. There was a cold metallic gleam in the bag. It looked to be some sort of sickle, not all unlike one of the sickles he often carried with him adventuring in the city. He started to pull it out, and immediately when he grasped it, he felt something from it. Malice. He felt as though he could cleave the life force out of anything that stood against him. Raw power and vicious longing for blood started to overcome him. It was not rage... he'd felt that before. This was something altogether unusual - and enjoyable...
and terrifying all the same. He could feel ever so clearly that this indeed was something crafted by the Gods.
He turned to look to the avatar, but the icy gaze of Uxor stared back at him. She was sitting up in the bed, angling her head curiously at him. The avatar was nowhere to be seen. Varro recognized Uxor's expression, and he gathered that she'd probably been awake for longer than he noticed. She wanted to know what he was doing. Now he needed to decide:
Would he tell her the truth? Deceit and secrets had already created much drama between them. On the other hand, would she believe him if he did tell her the truth? He was going to have to come up with something, for she was already searching out paper and something to write with, and inching closer to him and the sickle.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn VIII "The Avatar and the Augur" Chapter 3
(This volumn is a part of The Name Project)

Varro: Sorry if I woke you
*Uxor was still scouting for something to write upon, but she nodded her head at his side in a questioning way. He was confused by the gesture at first, as he so prominently held the sickle up. Looking down, he realized it was the scepter in his other hand that drew her attention.*
Varro: Just sorting my bags. I can take it to the other room if it's disturbing your rest *and he stuffed the belongings into his pack and began trying to make for the other room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Uxor slouch. She was not buying his attempt to play it off.* Fine fine fine. I'll tell you. You're not going to like it though.
*He picked up the scepter and some parchment for her - he knew she was going to need it after what he had to relate. Taking the scepter back in his hand, it sparkled with radiance, and as he cross the room, a trail of gently drifting glittering embers cascaded behind him. This caught him off guard at first, until he thought on it and remembered that he'd seen it do this before the night he'd gotten it from the avatar. More and more of his evening was coming to his memory. He then sat upon the bed beside her*
Varro: I just want you to know that before I tell you this, keep in mind... if you were anyone else, I'd dodge the question. There's no easy way to explain it or make it less confusing, so I'm going to be blunt. *he handed her the parchment. She did seem as if she were bracing for what he had to say* Uxor... a deity appeared to me to present me with this *he held the scepter out* if I agreed to continue to support its cause.
*Uxor sat very still staring at him flatly, then started to write something as he continued to ramble*
Varro: Well, not so much a deity... an avatar really. I know, it's hard to absorb this, but there's nothing to be done about it now. *he looked to the words on the page she'd written*
Uxor: "What does it do?"*she was eyeing the scepter curiously*
Varro: I'm not sure really. Not yet anyway. The avatar didn't really bother to tell me... or if he did, I just haven't remembered yet. *He was inspecting the scepter when he noted Uxor's expression* you know... for someone who just found out I've been visited by a god, you're being awfully calm.
*Uxor shrugged and wrote* "It is what it is"
Varro: You think I'm lying *he frowned at her and set the scepter down in his lap, crossing his arms*
*Uxor shrugged once again* Uxor: "You obviously got the thing from somewhere... you must have your reasons for saying such a thing. So when you're comfortable telling me what really went on, I'll be here. I'm done prying into your dealings against your will. I'm not here to judge you."
*Varro read the note and scoffed* I'm being serious... truthful even. I'm done with something too Uxor, and that is sheltering you from things.That is really what happened. It was in the Phoenix no less. The avatar bypassed the wards of the city to make a dancing sphere.... there were others there who saw the same. I can prove it to you.
*Uxor nodded and wrote* "It's ok Varro, you don't have to prove anything to me"
Varro: You don't believe me obviously. Look, don't give me your fake lip service. I know what I experienced and what I was given!
*Uxor returned his frown writing* Uxor: "You're getting upset. Something happened no doubt, else you wouldn't have that, and you wouldn't be getting so worked up. But you were very drunk last night. Maybe if you just wait for your head to clear some more and think back on it?"
Varro: My head's never been so clear thank you very much! If you're trying to attribute this to some kind of drink induced hallucinations, that is a grand drink indeed... for the whole bar saw it too!
*Uxor sighed* Uxor: "I'm sure it seemed very real, but ..."
*Varro interjected, seeing what her intent of writing was* I will SHOW you the proof. Prepare yourself for a visit from a higher power!
*Uxor tried to suppress a smirk, and leaned back playfully, writing* Uxor: "Indeed. Well... you don't have to explain yourself to me. Show me the power of the gods Varro. Let's see what this scepter of yours can do" *she tossed the paper at him with a mischievous grin*
*Varro flipped the paper back at her and stood up* Fine. Have it your way. I'm sorry to have to do this Uxor, but your lack of faith here is what has brought me to this *he held the scepter aloft, and called very loudly* I am the Augur to the gods! Avatar of Celebration, I invoke your presence! *and he began to ferverently dance about the room*
*After a few moments of awkward silence, save that of his dancing, he heard Uxor writing again*
Varro: Any moment now.... *Varro searched with his mind for the Avatar* <Confound it, where are you?!> aaaaaaany time now.... *Varro caught Uxor's glance, which was awash with concern and pity. He stopped dancing and looked around the room. He saw no sign of the Avatar, and heard nothing in his mind*
Varro: Alright look, just bare with me, I'm a bit new to this Auguring...*he came over to read her note*
Uxor: "Varro, no offense, but are you aware that insanity is a trait that can be passed from parent to offspring? I can appreciate an unarmored man dancing around as much as the next woman but... this is a little much, even for you."
*He rolled his eyes* That's it! Get dressed! We're going to find those who can attest to the same. There were demon kobolds in the tavern Uxor... DEMON KOBOLDS! *She humored his request. As he was getting his cloths, he suddenly went for the bag with the sickle in it, pulling it out and bringing it to her* If I'm just 'imagining' this, where did this come from hm? *he held the handle of the sickle out towards her*
*Uxor's smirk faded as she grasped the sickle. Her expression became more serious, and she reached for the paper to write* "Where did you get this?"
Varro: From the Avatar I told you. He... *more of the evening came back to Varro now. He remembered the words of the Avatar at the Hammersmith...
"I hope these go to some well deserving winners..."
and Varro recalled his pledge to find the means to determine who would receive the gifts.*
He charged me to find someone worthy to bestow them to.
*Uxor eyed the sickle suspiciously* Uxor: "Ok. You have encountered someone. These didn't come from nothing. A whole tavern of patrons might have seen it too. But that does not mean it was a god Varro. I have no idea how the one who took my memories from me was able to do such, but by your standard, should I refer to him as a god now too simply because I don't understand? How do you know this wasn't just a more powerful creature having fun with you?"
Varro: That's a good way of putting it. Uxor, for this being to do and know all he has done, even if he were not a god, it is well enough for me to call him one. I have no means to overcome him.
Uxor: "That doesn't make it a deity to worship though Varro. For all you know, that scepter there could just be something meant to keep track of you"
<Coralbina>
*Varro stood up straight, looking around abruptly at the word spoken in his mind, which he recognized to be none other than the Avatar communicating with him again. He was in part annoyed at the late arrival, but fully relieved by it. He was starting to doubt his sanity*
Varro: <Thank you, I was beginning to wonder if you would show> *though he as of yet did not see the avatar.* < What do you mean, if I may ask?>
<That was her name. Coralbina.>
<Her name? How do you know that?>
<demigod, remember? I'm privy to the names of all celebrated births, be they great small evil or otherwise.>
*Varro became aware that he'd become absorbed in his think-speech with the avatar, and Uxor was looking around as if poised to strike something. Uxor awaited an intruder or threat, as she was very aware that whatever force it was Varro had encountered was more than likely speaking with him now. She started to write with her free hand, the other still holding to the sickle out of habit to be armed*
Uxor: "It's just as likely to be a creature like your mother, or one of her kind, or like the mindflayer in hou..."
Varro: *he interjected overtop of her writing her suspicions out* Your name was Coralbina.
*Uxor halted writing abruptly, her eyes going wide, and her body shifted defensively. After a moment, her hand seemed to grip the sickle tighter, and she wrote* "Why did you say that to me?"
Varro: It was your name... Coralbina. He told me. *Varro smiled proudly. If THAT didn't convince her of the avatar's power, nothing else would.* It's my gift for you. Consider it by his leave to grant me the privilege of telling you.
*It became apparent to Varro most immediately that saying such had been a mistake. In particular, when he saw the look on Uxor's face as she sprang at him with the sickle in hand. Everything about her radiated that she wanted answers from him... or that he was some threat to her. He stammered back away from her, but she followed after, and with great alarm he realized that the gods sickle was but hairs from his throat. He could sense a want to spill his blood, but it was not coming from Uxor. It was coming from the weapon itself. In Uxor's wrathful hand however, it might not be long before she too would be overcome by the sentiments. The mention of the name had upset her to a dangerous point. Varro gasped under the force of her as she pressed him to the far wall. He always forgot how strong she was.*
Varro: Wait...wait wait wait, don't. Uxor! You're Uxor and would be forever as far as I'm ConAAA *he tried to recoil as he felt the blade pressing closer. His mind roamed to the avatar* <Little help?> *then back to the angry emotional woman at hand* I don't know what that Coralbina means, but if taking it back would stay your haaaaaaaa *he cried out again, and swallowed hard feeling her press the blade closer. It was becoming difficult to talk now. The weapon had not yet breached his skin, but it soon would. His hoarse whisper came* Please... can explain....*he choked out* Uxor, me! It's ME! <For the love of all gods I'm your friend! > *at that thought, he felt her release hold of him, and she dropped the sickle to the ground. She was crying, looking at him abhorrently. He didn't dare step towards her as he rubbed his throat sucking in air deeply, between which he said* I wasn't trying to upset you Uxor. I was trying to help. I only said it because I thought it would make you happy. I'll never say it again, you can mark my words on that.
*Uxor seemed almost in a panic as she started to write something, then dropped the paper and writing stick both, and fled the room. Varro didn't bar her escape. He was slightly relieved, however, to hear the door to the spare room slam. At least she'd remained here, and there would be still a chance to smooth things over. Running her off now, after only so recently managing to salvage their friendship, was not his desire in the least. He bent to read what she'd written*
Uxor: "What are you? Why would you say that to me? Wh"
<I don't know how wise that was, Augur.>
*Varro's focus snapped up to the bed, where the avatar sat in his place in the window once more*
Varro: <If your intention was to get me to do something stupid...mission accomplished.>
<Mind your tongue. I might be speaking more familiar with you these days, but you've much to learn in the ways of your new found position. I didn't tell you that so that you could spout it off to her. I guess this will just have to be your first taste of what the days to come for you are going to be like. You can't just go rattling off everything you're privy to now Minstrel.>
Varro: <It's a bit late for the warnings. Speaking of late, that probably would have gone over better if it had come from you and not through me.>
<I am not your personal summoned companion Augur. If anything, I summon YOU if need be. Best for you to get that straight this instant. Sorry that your discovery comes at the expense of your friend, but you needed to learn the hard way. Not that it wasn't supremely amusing. What's more, I'm not able to just come every time you get yourself into a bind. I may only attend that which is of my domain. Getting yourself killed by your friend with a weapon of the gods is not among that list I'm afraid. So don't get too secure. You are not an immortal Augur.>
*Varro gathered up the sickle and carefully secured it in his pack once more, not wanting to touch the thing for any longer than he had to, after Uxor's display.*
Varro: <Then why did you come finally?>
<Because you need some help managing your new skills. I can see you're somewhat confused on what being an Augur is.>
Varro: <Well I can only learn what I am taught, and the rest would be experimentation on my part.> *he sat upon the bed with his legs crossed, ready to receive instruction.* <I will be as an open book to you then. Tell me what I need to know, before I manage to make matters worse.>
<First off, you do realize that you spoke directly with her mind, yes?>
*The bard had not really noticed it until the avatar made mention of it now. He'd just been so concerned with finding something to say to prevent Uxor from using the weapon on him.* <Well I know now.>
<Yes, it is among one of your new talents Auguar. The capacity to speak with others directly. Use it sparingly, for few appreciate such forced intrusion, even if it is just to talk something over. So you're not caught off guard by it, you also now have the capacity to speak with great masses of people, and your voice will carry to all of them as clearly as if you were beside them each. It will come to make sense to you in time. As for your scepter, I want you to hold it for a moment. You said you did not know what it is for, so I will show you now.>
*As instructed, Varro took hold of the scepter, which glowed to shimmering life once again. He watched it, studied it, and listened to the avatar's talk.*
<I want you to concentrate on thinking of those you know. Picture them vividly, and relax into the feelings of mirth.>
*His first thoughts were for Uxor, who was in the other room doing who knew what. He tried as hard as he could to think on what she could be doing* <What happens then? I don't feel anything really. I'm trying to relax.>
<You don't feel anything because she is not celebrating. This scepter will help you to be aware of the locality of others, so long as they are merry or otherwise having some cause to be celebrating in some form. Toasting, dancing, any number of things. Uxor is not celebrating anything right now, hence why you cannot sense her. This is the first day in a very lonely and difficult path Augur. The reaction of your friend there is only a taste of what you will find yourself up against as an Augur. You will be aware of things that most mortals would not be. Blessed in ways they do not understand...and may envy. To be Augur is to give all that you have to the cause of celebration.. You will experience boundless joy, yes. But you will find yourself ostracized as you have never known before. You knew this when you first beheld the scepter, didn't you?>
*The minstrel could only nod in agreement. There was no possibility of semantics with this entity... god or no god.*
<Now, unless you have any more matters that you need explained...>
Varro: <Yes. You say you are privy to all the names of celebrated births. Why did that name upset her?>
<Ask her yourself. She's your friend. I said I knew the names, not the sentiments of every mortal towards the name of their birth.>
Varro: <Fair enough.> *he didn't bother to explain his departure from the room. He knew that the avatar would be able to see his intent now as he knocked softly on the door to the spare room, where Uxor had retreated to.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn VIII "The Avatar and the Augur" Chapter 4
(This volumn is a part of The Name Project)

Varro: Uxor... *he searched for something to say, but nothing seemed appropriate for the reaction he had inspired in her. At last he settled on saying* I can't read your notes through the door. *He could hear her on the other side. Varro retrieved more parchment, fresh and unwritten upon, and began to wriggle the page beneath the door* You don't have to face me, but at least explain to me what I've done. When you're finished writing, just slide it back. *He really couldn't recall if she had taken her writing stick with her or not. He hoped so, as the crack was too thin to push it through as well*

*As the paper disappeared beneath the door, there was a click, and he saw the door shift open slightly*
Varro: I'm going to presume that is your way of permitting me to come talk with you. *But he put a hand to the door, pressing lightly on it and staying back, so as not to prompt another physical misunderstanding. <At least she doesn't have the sickle this time> he told himself. It was no great comfort, since he was aware that in this room she frequently kept a greatsword.*

*She was sitting on the guest bed, already set to writing on the paper he'd given. Slowly and non-aggresively Varro slinked across the room, until he arrived beeside the bed. Watching for any sign that she meant to lash out at him, he sat down beside her, and read her note even as she wrote it.*
Uxor: "This being... This 'avatar' as you call it... I believe you in that you have seen something. That whatever it may be, it is very powerful. I will not, however, call it a god, Varro. That is something I must come to decide for myself. You told me that you were from this plane. That you are a man, and nothing more. Were you lying to me?" *she stopped writing, apparently awaiting an answer before continuing. She didn't look at him.*
*He started to say 'no,' but came to realize it was more complicated now*
Varro: What I said is true - I am human. Accepting this gift has granted me a few new...skills, that is true. But if you strike me down, I will fall the same as any other would. You nearly had a first hand demonstration of it. Thank you for stopping. *he rubbed his throat, still feeling for any wound left by the edge of the godly blade. He heard her start writing again*
Uxor: "When I heard you say it, I knew it was my name. It was frightening. I've never spoken of this before, but it was like the same experience I have when I kiss you"
*This confused him, and he spoke before her writing progressed*
Varro: Fear? Kissing me makes you afraid?
*Adamently she shook her head 'no' and motioned for him to let her finish writing*
Uxor: "When I... No Varro that isn't it at all. Familiar. When I kiss you, I have feelings and sensations as if I've been kissing you for years. The name, when you said it *she paused trying to put it to words to write* "You know the feeling of recognition - of knowing those letters to be in conjunction with your existance? Hearing you say it to me felt normal. It scared me. It scared me because that is not something you pull from the air. I was afraid that somehow, you knew my memories. That you might somehow have met with the one who took them from me in the first place. MOre over, that maybe you were going ot return me to him. That this being you're talking about WAS him. I realized that I was holding that weapon in there, and the drive to defend myself from you was strong. I heard your voice in my mind, in the way that Mekari had done, but it felt like you so distinctively. It brought me back from where ever the sickle was trying to lead my intent. I needed to step back. The shock of that name... of you and your 'gifts'... your account of this avatar. So much"
Varro: Why did you come in here to this room? I thought you would have dashed out my front door the way you were looking at me back there.
*Uxor sighed slowly through her nose.*
Uxor: "I remembered the last time I was forced out that same door. I remembered the look on your face. I realized what I feel" *she scratched it out to past tense* "what I felt was what you must have felt when you thought I was a traitor to you, and how I had my good intentions for you - just misapplied. So I came in here instead on the chance that there was an explaination. Mostly though, I needed to puzzle over things."
*The bard read her words gravely*
Varro: I am sorry to have caused you distress. That isn't what I want for you. We're supposed to be enjoying ourselves. On the bright side, concerning these 'feelings' I've stirred in you, that is good, yes? If you're getting your memory back?
*Uxor shook her head 'no,' and once more parchment was being written upon*
Uxor: They're not memories Varro. Just... feelings. I feel a certain emotion, but I don't recall it. I know that to be my name, but that doesn't mean I remember who called me that, nor what my life was when I was known as that."
Varro: Are the feelings good or ill when you hear the name? *he didn't bother to say it. He knew better than that now.*
Uxor: "Neither. It just is. I don't know how else to explain it."
Varro: Would you want me to call you that from now on, knowing as you do that it was your name?
*She sighed more deeply that time, enough that she had to open her mouth*
Uxor: "I'm not sure."
Varro: Then you will be Uxor to me for as long as you desire me to call you that. I am sorry. I just wanted so badly for you to believe in what I've said. You're the one I confide in these days, and if I can't come to you, then there is no one. If you wish to discover this avatar for yourself, I won't press that aspect of it. I will tell you that I may need your help in the coming weeks. This will not be so simple as putting on a few dresses for me as you did for the Fashion Show posters Uxor. I need real help this time. However *he set the scepter aside and faced her fully* if you do not feel that I am being truthful with you... or that I've misrepresented what is happening... I want you to tell me now, and I will never speak of it again to you.
*Uxor stared at him for some time in silence. After a time, she reached out and touched the side of his face. It was not in the way that so many of the city did, to discern if he were Mekari or not... it was a caress. He closed his eyes halfway to it, and his thoughts turned to her earlier words*
Varro: What do you feel?
*She angled her head a little trying to figure out what he was making reference to. This prompted him to lean forward swiftly, but gently, to meet her lips with his own, afterwhich he asked again.*
Varro: I want to know what it is you feel.
*The paleness of her face was warmed somewhat as she flushed at the question. For having to spend her existence in writing, being mute, she found it particularly difficult today to communicate her thoughts.*
Uxor: "I don't know Varro, it's not as simple as a word. It's nothing bad. If anything it's happy feelings. My name now, Uxor, means wife. When I kiss you, it must remind me of whomever it was I was married to before my memories were taken" *she stared at the page, realizing how reading that must make Varro feel. It read as if her mind went somewhere else and she quickly added* "It's not that I'm not here with you when I'm doing it it.."
Varro: Calm down, I'm not offended if that is what you're thinking. I'm confident enough to share you, even if it is in this case with some feelings of your past. *his mind already was coiling around an idea. Would it work? The only way of knowing wass trying...mentally he reached out for the avatar again*
Varro: <Are you listening?>
<For me to know and you to learn.>
Varro: <No games this time. No scheming. I want to know... you say you are privy to times of celebration and joy, yes?>
<I am.>
Varro: <What of her? Are you able to see the joy and mirth of her past?>
<Yes. I know what you are thinking, and I know you only mean well for her, but consider your actions carefully... in light of the last reaction she had to word of her past imparted by you, Augur.>
*He didn't need to ask further of the Avatar now.*
Varro: Uxor, in the same way that I was able to know your name, there is the possibility that I also might be able to find out aobut events of your past. If you have a family still.... who your husband was... many things about your old life. Do you want me to tell you?
*Uxor sat up straight hearing this.*
Uxor: "For what purpose?"
Varro: A gift. A gift for you that no one else can grant you so readily. One that will be yours only if you ask it of me. I don't have your answers yet, but I can get them. I won't bother to do so unless it is at your request though. It is the only thing I can think of to make up for the difficulty of knowing me Uxor.You don't have to decide now but... just know that I offer you this, should you want it.
*Uxor wrestled in her mind with the answer for this. For the present, she set the paper and writing stick down, shoved aside the scepter, and pulled him to her. With great determination, Uxor tried to think of Varro only, to put all else out of mind, and tried to suppress the dejavu that haunted her affections for him. Did she feel this way because of her past, or because of Varro himself?*
Varro: <I'll get back with you on that, but if that information is yours, may I be so bold as to ask for it, not for myself, but for her, if it came to it?>
<You can ask.>
Varro: <Fair enough.>

[Lessah]

Stormreach has a few "little" problems!


Prologue


Stalking past a score of orc guards, the halfling trader Gil felt a little jealous of his brother’s hired thugs. He had no love for Idomeneus to be sure, but the message stated that his business was “urgent.”

Gil did not like leaving his caravans for long, fearing his workers would steal from him. The last time he went on business, in fact, he’d come back to find many things out of place. He made a mental note, to beat every of his caravan manager’s when he got back, regardless of wrongdoing.

Entering Idomeneus’ inner most laboratory, he actually gasped at what he saw. Several freshly exhumed bodies were laid out on tables, side by side, along with unrecognizable skeletons whose features had long since rotted away. Gil tried his best not to look uncomfortable, knowing his brother would press any advantage he saw, and stood quietly with his stubby fingers locked together in front of his large belly.

Idomeneus, the halfling sorcerer, stood over one of the skeletons chanting an incantation. When he was done, he looked up at his brother and smiled an evil and sadistic smile. “My we certainly have let ourselves go…” Ido raised his brows a bit in taunt and question in regards to the amount of weight Gil had allowed himself to put on over the years.

“G’day to you as well brother.” Gil replied sarcastically. “Now what’s this all about, I got work to do…”

In reply, Idomeneus, said nothing. Instead, he picked up the bony arm of the skeleton on the table in front of him, and shook it experimentally. When nothing else happened, he seemed a bit disappointed, and moved to a desk drawer to retrieve several things.

“Tell me Gil,” Idomeneus began as gathered a bag, and several parchments, “How goes your trade business?”

Gil huffed, “could be better, competition and all, Andair trade ain’t what it used to be.”

“Interesting,” Idomeneus replied curtly cutting Gil off before he could elaborate further. It was clear the caster was only focussed on his personal agenda. “Here,” he said roughly shoving a small but heavy bag and some maps at Gil. “I have a bit of job for you and the boys.”

Opening the bag, Gil saw that it was full of gold coins, with instant mistrust he looked up at Idomeneus. “Speak brother, ye got my full attention.”

Allowing his brother to hold and fondle the large bag of coins had Idomeneus outlined his plans, “You are headed to Stormreach,” He added, “Meet Lerincho and Ryvis who are already in the city waiting for you.

Gil clutched his bag of gold protectively, “What do we need them for?”

“Ingredients, my dear boy,” explained Idomeneus. “Ingredients to start a war, to perhaps eliminate your competition, and make your trade caravans so ripe with business, you won’t have to kill your supervisors every time they steal from you.”

Gil shrank at the thought that his brother might be spying on him. It didn’t matter, he decided. A trade monopoly was just the thing he needed to make himself richer than any man he knew; even the pompous Idomeneus.

Both men were startled by a scratching sound then, and Idomeneus’ face lit up when he saw his first undead skeletal minion rise from the table. His Sinister laughter grew to a climax as the skeleton lurched over to him. Idomeneus did not even notice that his brother was already gone.

***




The Marketplace in Stormreach
Chapter 1: The Assassin’s Note

Rain patted softly on the widow of the modest apartment that overlooked the normally bustling Marketplace Area of the City of Stormreach. It was dawn now, or would be soon as the first dim rays of light were threatening to crest the city walls. In fact, most folk in the city proper were still asleep.

Lessah, however, was not most folk. Instead she sat in her windowsill, with her back against the frame and one knee bent under her resting arm. The window itself was nothing more than you would find in any affordable lodge room. It was small enough to keep out most large humans and big enough for Lessah’s Halfling form.

Tall for her race, she did not to admit to many people that she was half-human. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was pulled back in its customary half ponytail that allowed much of the under layers of her hair to cascade a bit down her back. Along with her unusual height, Lessah had inherited her mother’s sky-blue eyes. The girl’s facial expressions rarely ranged away from sober and serious.

In her hand she held an old coin with the emblem of a shield on one side and a sword on the other; normally carried by paladins in the service of Dol Dorn, the god of strength and arms. Lessah was no paladin, but her human mother had been, and the coin had been a parting gift to Lessah. She always carried it as a reminder of her mother’s strength. Turning it over and over in her hand in well-practiced repetition, the girl seemed to take no comfort from the ritual.

Outside the Marketplace was still and quiet. Only the open-air fruit vendors were just arriving to set up shop for the day. The pre-dawn light had chased most of the less desirable patrons in the city away save for the occasional odd passer-by.

Out of curiosity she glanced across the room to the halfling-sized bed in the corner, adjacent to her own. The bed was plain, well-made up, and unslept in. Lessah felt a slight pain of worry knowing her cousin had still not yet come home. Lessah thought to herself that the girl would very likely end up pregnant and in dishonor, if she weren’t more careful. It was something Lessah felt she did not have time to address however.

Removing her head from the frame of the window, she pulled out a note from her pocket and unfolded it. It was one she had read several times, but Lessah read it again as if some new information would come from it.

“kill her if she jeopardizes the mission
report to G.Y. in the morning”

The night before had been difficult, Lessah was hired by one of the local boys to hunt a giant spider and kill it in order to procure the creature’s venom sac, presumably to sell to one of the local alchemists at a profit. She was not accustomed to working within the city limits, choosing instead to act as a scout for many adventuring parties and caravans moving through the Menechtarun Desert. Thinking about her most recent trip to that unforgiving place made Lessah glance down at the still-healing scar on her forearm. A present given to her by a pack of roving gnolls, it was an encounter that had nearly cost the girl more than her favorite delving suit.

Lessah seethed at such carelessness--her own as well as the assassin hired to kill her and take what she had rightfully stolen. Only a cheaply-hired thug would carry a message that could so easily implicate his employer. That same thug had allowed himself to be caught after being discovered by his quarry. Lessah was not in the habit of assassinating anyone, but she had made an exception for last night’s cutpurse. Lessah felt a tinge of guilt thinking that the Stormreach authorities would soon discover him in an alley behind the Wavecrest Tavern. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out that thought. Instead she was more interested in who would have her followed or killed for something she had already planned on selling anyway. More importantly, why would someone go to such trouble to procure a spider’s venom that was pungent, but by no means deadly?

Her thoughts along with the quiet of the morning were disturbed by the giggles of a young halfling female. Lessah drew a deep breath, half relieved that Morah was home safe and half annoyed that her cousin would stay out all night. Stashing the note and coin quickly in her pocket, she readied herself for the conversation to follow. Her young and beautiful cousin would not get off so easily this time.

Lessah repeated a few questions in her mind: Where have you been? With whom? Why were you out all night? Don’t you know no self-respecting Halfling male will accept you as a wife if you continue to do this? With her feet firmly on the floor and her arms crossed in a gesture of disapproval, Lessah listened at what seemed like a herd of buffalo coming up the stairs.

Morah the Halfling bard burst through the door with a bright smile on her face and danced across the floor to her cousin. The pretty girl stopped after a too elaborate twirl and presented Lessah with a ripe pear that she no doubt had failed to pay for at the fruit vendor.

“Greetings Lessah!” She practically panted and held the fruit out in presentation. “I brought you some breakfast!” Morah, unlike Lessah, seemed by all appearances to be a full-blooded halfling both in size and demeanor. Her long blonde hair was always in perfect order, even now, after it was clear she had been running through the rain. She had beautiful beige and golden eyes that gave her a distinctive identity along with a well-proportioned figure and pouting lips, which she never failed to use in order to get her way.

Lessah made no move to retrieve the fruit, nor did she change her judgmental facial expression. The bard failed to notice any signal that she was in disfavor.

“Not hungry?” She inquired, her face still glowing. Morah dropped her arm after only a moment and placed the fruit in an empty bowl in the center of the small table of the girls’ common room. She produced another pear from the folds of her cloak, and bit into it. “Oh the night I’ve had cousin!”

“The night is over youngling.” Lessah finally spoke using Morah’s childhood nickname. “The sun crests the city walls as we speak.”

Morah glanced out the window and rolled her eyes at the rain that had calmed to a soft drizzle. She placed the partially eaten pear into the bowl with its mate. “Stupid rain!” the bard said more to herself than Lessah. She sprang up from the chair she had dropped into, all smiles again, “He kissed me last night Lessah!” The girl could hardly contain her giddiness.

Lessah tried hard to steel herself for more unwanted information. Gritting her teeth she asked, “and who is HE?”

Morah looked stricken for half a moment, then easily recovered and smiled again, “Saldez silly!” She giggled slightly and twirled around the room again, the elaborate dance ending in collapse on the girl’s small bed in the corner of the common room.

Lessah turned, arms still crossed, “I don’t approve of this Saldez, Morah.” Lessah began, “His family’s reputation in the city is precarious at best, and he is known for being…” she paused, trying not to say unkind words, “a ladies’ man.”

Morah gathered herself in giant ball of sheets and blankets, “you don’t approve of anyone Lessah that is YOUR problem--not mine.” Morah popped her head up from the covers, “I’m meeting him again tonight…” The bard’s beige eyes grew wide with mischief and anticipation and she pulled herself completely under the covers again, squealing in excitement.

Lessah turned frustrated and sat at the table. She could see out the window that the fully awake sun was lighting up the Marketplace, which had already begun to fill with patrons. Lessah reached into the bowl, grabbed the partially eaten fruit, turned it 180 degrees to the unbitten side, and tasted it. She had too much to worry about today and this situation would have to be dealt with very soon.

The note left her with many more questions than answers--answers she would have to dig up for herself. Lessah rose from the table, taking the fruit with her. She turned to her cousin.

“I’ll be back later youngling.” Lessah’s voice trailed off as she realized Morah’s rhythmic breathing meant she had already fallen asleep. A jumble of blankets and soft blonde hair, her angelic face was slightly visible and a smile, even in sleep, ran across her lips. Lessah’s eyes rolled to the ceiling, “Oh never mind!”

Lessah pried a floorboard of the common room up, taking care to not wake her cousin, and placed the spider venom sac inside the empty space there. She made her way out the door and down to the market, making a mental note to quietly pay the fruit vendor for his unknowing generosity.

Lessah needed to confer with someone she could trust for discretion and someone who was well versed in the official, as well as the sinister side, of regional politics. So she decided her first stop this morning should be to the Hall of The Order of the Sword and Rose, to see none other than the famous diplomat and ambassador Aribell Kross.

The Order of the Sword and Rose was an age-old organization charged with the protection of the queen back when the five human nations, known as the Kingdom of Galifar were united under one ruler until a vicious and bloody war tore the kingdom apart. The Order had been revived with the charge of reuniting the five nations and restoring order to the Kingdom of Galifar, which had thus far proven a difficult task.

Lessah had been hired on a few occasions in the past by the Order, to stealthily seek out information when their Council needed intelligence outside of the confines of local law. Lessah held the Mistress of the Order in great esteem and felt the woman was more likely to help her than to have her arrested.

[Lessah]

Chapter 2: The Order’s Hall

Lessah strode into the Order’s Hall, drenched in water from the pouring rain. A massive structure, it once looked to be a grand concert hall, but was converted into the Order’s place of operations. At the center of the hall just before stairs that would lead up to the second level was the reception desk with a young girl sitting behind it. It was rumored that Aribell Kross, the cunning Mistress of the Order, procured the hall in a secret deal with the Coin Lords of Stormreach. But that of course was a rumor and the truth about the building remained a secret to most.

Ellee sat behind her desk, which was covered in papers and reports that looked to be fresh for the day. Lessah knew at first glance that she was going to have trouble with Aribell’s secretary. She strode confident, but quiet up to the girl’s desk and waited to be acknowledged. After a very long moment, the girl finally looked up at Lessah with a blank expression before suddenly realizing that someone was visiting the Order.

"Can I help you?" Ellee asked, and paused for a moment. "How rude of me, let me get you a dry towel." Ellee was a girl of slight build, 5'5 with black hair, green eyes, with little tanned skin with some freckles to match. She was a fetching girl, albeit quiet.
"Yes," Lessah replied with courtesy, "I need to see Aribell Kross… please." She added hastily realizing the girl was in control of her present situation as she reached for the towel.

"Of course you do." Ellee replied with a hint of sarcasm, "Unfortunately my Lady has not arrived yet, and well… you are a bit early for that." Elle smiled as best she could. She was still adjusting to the job Aribell had given her as secretary. She waved slightly as if to indicate the entire conversation had ended.

Lessah tried to keep her calm and plead her case, "It is a matter of great importance, I assure you. It is imperative that I speak with the lady of this house as soon as she arrives. I’ll wait if need be."

Ellee’s response was a hand gesture that indicated the waiting area in the Order’s main study. Lessah had no choice but to comply with the inept girl. Aribell had access to more information than Lessah could hope for. If anyone knew who the mysterious G.Y. was, it would be her.
As Lessah turned to go, she heard a faint voice from the Order’s Hall entrance.

"It rains far too much in Stormreach for my taste." The woman was drenched from head to toe. "I really need that glass of milk Ellee." She stepped through the doors, wearing a large trench-like coat that was brown in color with her blonde hair pulled back. She shivered as she walked up to Ellee, noticed the halfling as she approached, and nodded to her secretary. "Do I have a visitor?"
"Aye Aribell, she is. . ."

"Well met Lady,” Lessah cut Ellee off before she could say more, “I’m afraid I need your help!" Lessah exclaimed toward Aribell.

Taking a moment to get a towel from behind Ellee’s desk, Aribell replied, "Please give me just a moment. I would like to dry off." Aribell smiled as she started to go up the stairs to her office. "Give me about five minutes Ellee"

Lessah gave Ellee a triumphant nod of thanks, which was wordlessly returned with a smile from the secretary. "Please give her just a moment. Aribell’s office is located in the right hallway at the top of the stairs."

Ascending the stairs towards Aribell’s office Lessah glanced at the different paintings of triumphant battle scenes that rested alongside heroes of The Order. At the top of the stairs, the largest and oldest painting had been lovingly cared for. Held in its frame was a depiction of a beautiful and graceful-looking woman with dark hair, and kind eyes. A crown set atop her head, and the inscription on the bottom of the painting read: Her Majesty Queen Aryana Wynarn.

Heading toward the right hallway, she passed a giant row of large windows that overlooked the streets of Stormreach, and arrived at the door that had Aribell’s name on the window. Aribell sat neatly behind her desk with a cup of warm milk in one delicate hand. Her hair had been let down as if she had tried to dry it quickly.

She was perfectly poised for such an early an hour, unquestionably beautiful with blue eyes and blonde hair. She was of average height, but her demeanor and grace made her seem much taller.

"Hello Lessah," she smiled, "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"I am afraid you are the only one who can tell me that, my lady."

Aribell raised a quizzical eyebrow in response. "Sit." she said simply. "Milk?"

Lessah complied and sat in the chair adjacent to the desk, "Thank you, no. I am likely being followed and I haven’t much time." Not wishing to waste Aribell’s time she reached into her pocket quickly and pulled out the note she looted from the dead cutpurse the night before and explained how she had come to find it.

Aribell read the note and her eyes narrowed as she reached the end of the letter. Pausing for a moment she passed it back to Lessah, who ended her tale with the stashing of the thug’s body in the Wavecrest alley.

"Interesting" Aribell remarked thoughtfully. "Tell me Lessah, how do you know this note is even about you?" She waited for the halfling to react and continued, "Had I killed you just now, this note would be about me. Hmm? Tell me, was he human?"

Lessah nodded a reply, and Aribell continued her questioning. "Think on this Lessah; what will happen when this assassin does not report to his employer? If you are not being followed, you will likely be soon.” Aribell surmised, sipping her milk. “I require some private time to think this matter over more carefully. It would be a good idea to stay close by. Visit me if you find any more news."

Lessah exited the office obediently and left Aribell to her thoughts. Aribell had much thinking to do indeed. She had compounding problems to the south, with the royal family in the Kingdom of Aundair on the brink war, and a now this. Aribell mused over the possible reasons why someone would go to such great trouble to procure spider venom that they could easily bargain for. She thought to herself that whoever it was must have a greater plan and need an absolute guarantee of discretion.

The paladin began to jot notes on a piece of parchment paper. She did not yet see the larger picture, but one thing she knew for sure. If the initials were correct on that note, it could mean only one thing--The Halfling War Council had arrived in Stormreach. The question was why were they here, and what did they want?

[Lessah]

Chapter 3: Soulgate

Lessah left Aribell’s office convinced that the powerful woman would do all she could to help. Striding through the guild hall, her keen halfling ears happened to catch pieces of a conversation from the common dining room.

The girl recognized one voice immediately as her friend Andark, a full-blooded halfling rogue. Lessah had known Andark since coming to Stormreach and his happy-go-lucky nature had always been a source of comfort for her. A handsome lad, Andark had short dark hair and dark, kind eyes. He was unusually adept at making people laugh. In fact he was well known for his palace antics in a short stint of service to the Queen. Peeking into the common area, Andark spied her right away, cut himself off in mid-sentence and walked away from his food to greet the girl.

“Lessah!” He exclaimed, embracing her in a friendly hug, which Lessah promptly returned. “Where have you been? Not the desert I hope. Dangerous place that desert. Lucrative, but dangerous!” Lessah opened her mouth to speak, but Andark was a too fast for her. “Never mind that! Come. Sit. Have bread with us!”

Seizing a moment of silence, Lessah interjected, “I am very sorry Andark. I cannot stay. I have pressing business elsewhere…” but the mischievous little halfling was busy readying an all-too-generous plate of bread, cheese, and fresh berries.

“Don’t you worry about a thing there girlie--I’ll fix you right up!” Andark continued, glossing over Lessah’s words entirely. “Just like her majesty used to say, halflings make the best servants! She got the wee-folks crawling all over the palace you know. Not just jesters like me either! No sir. She’s got cooks, handmaidens and the like. Pretty girls they are as well! Say Lessah, how IS that pretty little sister of yours? I hear she is the most beautiful girl in all of Stormreach.”

“Actually she’s my cousin. Andark, my apologies, but I really must…” Lessah stopped dead, surprised by the person sitting at the opposite end of the table.
“You must, you must…” Saldez’s playful green eyes held Lessah’s gaze in a trance. She had never seen him this close before; he was almost as handsome as Morah had described. He had one stripe of bright blonde hair running down the middle of his otherwise bald head, and his thin, but tight clothing revealed him as a well-muscled halfling male in the prime of his life. She knew he was reading her face. She could see too that he caught the angry flash of mistrust in her eyes and cursed herself for dropping her guard.

“Well met Saldez.” Lessah replied evenly. “I trust your DAY is going well.”
“Very well indeed, thank you.”

“As I was saying, Andi, I have a long day ahead of me, and an even longer night. Not everyone has the luxury of watching the dawn break.” Her gaze held his for a moment; he showed no change in his “cat that ate the canary” expression.

“Good day to you both,” Lessah rose and left the room amidst protests from Andark that she was to come back and eat every bite of food on her plate.

The rain had all but dissipated into a drizzle now, but the streets were slick and wet with mud. This made Lessah rethink her path to her next location--Soulgate.

Hopping lightly onto a lamppost and then a sturdy window ledge, she climbed deftly onto the nearest rooftop and hopped her way around to the Market’s east side.

Lessah knew her friend Gindel, a human ranger and night guard with the port authority of Stormreach, would be home and a bit rested by now. Indeed, she was pleased to see his window standing wide open, even with the rain. She started toward the window and then stopped abruptly, taking note of the anticipation growing in her gut, and a sudden interest in her appearance. Lessah peered into a small puddle of standing water at her reflection and tried to smooth out some of the stray hairs that were flying around her face. She stopped quickly and slammed her fist into the puddle of water so she could no longer see her reflection and hopped lightly through the open window.

The rogue looked around and saw no one. Gindel’s bed was unmade but the ranger was not in it. Lessah looked around quickly and became concerned that something foul had become of her friend.

“I hope this visit is for pleasure and not business Lessah…” A strong male voice said from behind her. Lessah closed her eyes and gave a hint of a smile of relief.

“Hello Ranger.” Lessah turned and there stood Gindel, a handsome and shirtless man leaning one arm casually on the frame of the doorway. He was long with lean muscles, meant for ranging targets rather than melee. His sandy hair hung wet around his face and he dried it as he entered his bedroom. He did not seem surprised or disappointed at the sight of Lessah.

“Well met my friend,” Lessah actually smiled a tiny smile when she greeted him. “I was in the neighborhood.”

He cast a sideways glance of disbelief at her as he fished around in a pile of clothing for a clean shirt and put it on.

Lessah continued, “I wanted to know if you saw or heard anything unusual last night.” She paused, realizing that a trait of a good rogue was the ability to spin intricate webs of lies. But she was never any good at that particular skill. “I heard noises.” Lessah did not even believe the words as she spoke them.

Gindel eyed her curiously, and smiled, “Perhaps you have a rat problem, Lessah. Have you considered getting a cat?”

“Gindel please,” the girl pleaded, “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
Gindel knew his friend to be unusually serious for a halfling. He studied her for a moment as if to reevaluate the bond of trust between them, and replied,“What is this about Lessah?” She only bit her lip in reply. “You’re not going to tell me are you?”

She shook her head no, praying he would understand. He seemed to, and he seated himself on his bed and began to explain, “There was a break in last night, one of the docked ships had an item stolen from the Captain’s own quarters.” Gindel idly picked up one of his boots and started cleaning it, “By the time we got there, the Captain and crew refused to file a report, or even say what had been taken.” The handsome ranger shrugged a bit, “My best guess would be that whatever was taken, was illegal in the first place, or stolen.” He paused, “…or both.”

Lessah took the information in thoughtfully, though she was not well versed in port authority protocol as to what may or may not be illegal. “Where had the ship come from?” She inquired, hoping the ship’s port of origin might reveal something.

“The Moors,” he answered and cast his eyes to the floor as if to explore that very avenue himself, “but it was a trade ship; any number of things from all over could have been aboard.” He concluded shaking his head a bit as if to dismiss a silent theory.

She nodded slowly, “Thank you Gindel--I know you don’t have to tell me anything. I promise you I will find out everything I can.”

She turned on her heel to go out the window, only to be snatched back by her arm in the ranger’s confident grasp. “Promise me you will be careful, Sneak.” He said using the playful nickname he had given her in their early days of adventuring together. But he used it this time in a serious tone.

Lessah nodded, “I will Ranger, and you do the same.” He released her then and she wasted no time springing out of the window and climbing to the nearest rooftop aware that he would watch her until she was out of sight. She unconsciously tried to make her movements as graceful and acrobatic as possible.

She was breathing hard when she got to the tailor shop in the Market Bazaar. It had been a few weeks since the incident in the desert that had left her favorite delving suit damaged almost beyond repair. She would need that suit now if she expected to sneak around the more seedy areas of Stormreach and not be easily spotted.

Inside the shop, a portly halfling tailor in the middle years of his life was busy measuring a boy for a fancy suit. The tailor noticed Lessah right away, and ushered his apprentice over to take his place.

Ryvis, was wearing a thick, but well-crafted vest of deep velvet and matching leggings. His comparatively thin legs sharply contrasted his thick middle and gave him the appearance of a frog walking upright. His salt and pepper grey hair was matted and mostly under the cover of a forest green cap slightly tilted to one side. He draped his tape measure about his shoulders as he came over to greet Lessah.

“I had a heck of a lot a trouble fixing that suit this time Less.” He pulled her aside so others in the shop could not hear. “It’s not safe fer ya to go out to that desert ne’ more. I fear ye may be getting yerself killed,” he paused for effect, “or worse.”

Lessah tried not to look confused, or speculate as to what might be worse than death. She placed her hand on the man’s shoulder. Ryvis had helped her when she was a struggling knave on the streets of the Wavecrest Village, and she felt she could trust him. “No worries my friend, I’ll not be taking the suit to the desert this night.”

Both of Ryvis’ thick brows rose quizzically. “Are ye in trouble lass?”
She paused a moment, “No, I don’t think so. But I am going to find out.” Lessah had few friends in Stormreach that she could count on for discretion, and Ryvis was well-versed in all local politics. He secretly made it a point to know the business of most of Stormreach’s prominent citizens. Lessah leaned closer to him and asked in a low voice, “Ryvis, has anyone new come to the city recently, with the initials G.Y.?”

Ryvis reacted to the name, but it was obvious he tried to recover and hide the fact. He then fixed the girl with a stern gaze,“You’d best keep yer nose outta politics girl. It’s the fastest way to end up dead in this city to be sure.”

Deciding that the tailor was hiding more information, she changed the direction of the conversation, “How much do I owe you for the suit this time Ryvis?”

He looked down, stumbling on his words a bit, “I…I have to get it fer ye--wait here.” He disappeared behind a curtain. When he reappeared, he looked even more flustered. He handed over a wrapped package that contained the suit and nodded to her.

It bothered Lessah immensely that Ryvis did not even attempt to mark up the price of the job by so much as a copper this time nor did he count the handful of coins she gave him. Lessah thought to herself that any halfling who doesn’t ask for more money is definitely hiding something!

It was high noon. The market was in full swing with people everywhere, haggling over everything from wands to bat guano. On top of all the noise, ever-present drumming filled the giant bazaar area. Lessah had not slept the previous evening, and the drumming, she thought, must be coming from inside her head. She was exhausted, but she had much more to do.

Suddenly remembering her sleeping cousin, she decided that her apartment was not a safe place for the time being, and that she would have to convince Morah to move to the Hall of The Order for the night. It stood to reason that if Lessah were being followed or in danger, that Morah was in danger as well.

She went as straight a path as she could to her apartment, thinking that she would rather enjoy waking Morah up from her nap. Perhaps if the girl were too tired tonight, it would help to keep her out of more trouble. Entering the small but functional apartment however, she found her cousin was already gone. Their burlap bag normally used for laundry had been emptied carelessly and was missing also, along with a few of Morah’s more choice possessions. Lessah felt a pain of worry growing in the pit of her stomach. No, it was a different pain…

Lessah’s head was throbbing, so she sat on her bed and unwrapped the package Ryvis had given her. Ryvis? Yes, he was hiding something wasn’t he? She must go back to the bazaar and trail that tailor wherever he goes. She noticed a slight musty smell on the soft leather suit that had been fashioned from the pelt of a bug-bear assassin, and silently cursed the tailor for not taking better care of the material. The suit itself was a beautiful light grey and made absolutely no sound when Lessah was stealthing in it. She rubbed her aching head. What was that smell?

Lessah emptied the suit out of the package and onto her bed and crumpled up the brown paper wrapping it had traveled in. That is when she noticed the sticky green ichor on her hands. It was so bright green that it almost glowed. It must have come from somewhere on the packaging.

The slight pounding of in her head became a war drum, and she simply could not think--could barely move in fact. Her only thought was to reach her wash basin in time to get whatever this was off of her skin, but she was moving dreadfully slow. Her hands and feet felt as if giant boulders were tied to them, and there was a dry sticky feeling in Lessah’s mouth. She needed the basin. Yes, the water would help with this terrible poison. Poison? Her thinking was clouded and the water basin seemed to be miles away from her. The last thing Lessah saw was the floor coming up to greet her, and her eyes closed.

[Lessah]

Chapter 4: The Poison

Lessah opened her eyes, finding her head and torso drenched in water. The basin lay on the floor beside her. She must have knocked it over when she fell. Lessah tried to move and was immediately greeted by the terrible pounding headache again. Although it was nothing compared to the pain she had just experienced. Just experienced?

Lessah drew in a sharp breath and popped up to look out her window, fearing she had lost too much time. Big mistake! Her headache charged her full on along with a terrible, sick wrenching in her gut, as if someone were punching her repeatedly. She fell back to the floor writhing, a slave to her pain. She was too intently wrapped up in her dilemma even to notice a large pair of boots walking purposefully across the floor towards her.

By the time she opened her eyes again, she was in her bed. Her hair was slightly damp, and neatly combed, and her bed covers were pulled about her snugly. She could see out her window that the light outside was growing dim--it was evening. “Oh no,” she moaned aloud to no one, or so she thought.

“Finally,” rang Gindel’s deep tenor voice from across the room. “I was afraid I may have been too late. I have some bread and soup here for you. You should eat something.” Gindel had already taken liberties to prepare food and set Lessah’s table. She sat up remembering the events of the day, and that her mission was far from over.

“I have to go…” she protested, struggling to climb out of the bed.

Gindel raised a hand to stop her from saying more, “No, Sneak, you have to eat. You have been poisoned with ichor from the egg of a troglodyte. It has left you weakened.” he explained with a too serious expression. “It is highly illegal to possess such a lethal substance in this city, and the concentration I found on you suggests the ichor has been tampered with to be made much more potent than any normal troglodyte slime. So I will ask you again, to sit down and eat--I need information.” He pulled the chair of her table out in invitation and waited for her to make the obvious choice. “I can have you arrested if you prefer.”

Lessah could see worry along with confusion on the young ranger’s face, so she crawled out of bed in compliance and sat at the table. The soup was almost clear, but smelled pleasant. Lessah tasted it gingerly at first, and then picked up the bowl to drink from it. She was ravenous for some reason, and the soup really was a comfort. Slowly she started to feel normal again, not so weak. She looked a little uncomfortably at Gindel and spoke, “I don’t know how to thank you Ranger,” she began,“You have saved my life.”

He smiled a bit, “It is a service you have done for me on many occasions Lessah. Thanks to you I can now confirm that the ship from the Moors is smuggling troglodyte eggs into the Harbor. In small doses the ichor will sicken you to be sure, but in heavy concentrations, as you have seen already, it is lethal.” Then he added gravely, “You are lucky to be alive… halfling luck I expect.”

“Getting a troglodyte egg does not seem so easy a task.” Lessah mused aloud. Gindel agreed. Lessah tore up bits of bread and threw them into her soup, putting things together in her mind. Most guilds in the city, even the thieves’ guild would not go to such great lengths to simply assassinate someone, unless… “Whoever it is making the stuff, wants someone important dead.” she said aloud. She then told Gindel about the thug and showed him the note she found, which Gindel promptly pocketed after scolding her for not telling him such important information sooner.

“He may have been after this.” Lessah explained prying up the floorboard where she hid any questionable goods. She noticed right away however, that the space under the floor was empty. “It’s gone…” she said looking up at Gindel.

The ranger fixed her with a quizzical gaze that melted into a judgmental expression when Lessah explained the story behind the spider’s venom sac. Lessah shrugged and tried to explain that food must go on her table too.

“Are you sure the assassin was dead Lessah? No bodies have been recovered anywhere in Stormreach. Perhaps he came to claim his bounty,” he paused, thinking, “or perhaps your cousin took it.”

Lessah shook her head in disbelief of the idea that her cousin would knowingly steal anything outside of a young man’s heart. “There’s more.” Lessah continued, and she told the ranger about the tailor’s strange behavior. “For all I know, he is the one who tried to poison me.”

Gindel nodded thoughtfully listening to Lessah’s piece of the story. Finally he spoke, “Lessah, does the name Yarbarrow mean anything to you?”

Lessah shrugged noncommittally, hoping not to give anything away. Of course it did! It was the surname of the man she had always been told was her father. Though the two had never met, Lerincho Yarbarrow, she had always been told was a notorious rogue.

When she continued to stare blankly at the handsome ranger, he moved on. “Gil Yarbarrow,” Gindel explained, is the head of a group of traders who run most of the routes between here and the kingdom of Aundair. ”

“I don’t understand.” Lessah asked confused, “How would a trader stand to gain from making a deadly poison?” Lessah searched her mind for more information. The trader would likely try to sell the deadly stuff at great profit, or use it for some greater gain. “Gindel,” she finally asked, looking up sharply, “what would happen if you combined the reduced ichor of troglodyte eggs with the concentrated extract made from a spider’s venom?”

“I don’t know.” Gindel admitted, “But if the spider venom can be concentrated in the same manner that trog eggs can…”

“A person would be dead before they hit the ground.” the two said almost together. The pair summarized that it would be an easy way to quietly assassinate someone of great importance from a distance if need be, since only a minute amount of the poison would be needed to kill the intended victim.

Lessah’s head was suddenly clear, but her heart was pounding. She had to find this Gil Yarbarrow and figure out who or what the target was before someone else ended up dead. A thought entered Lessah’s mind that her cousin might also be in danger. She hoped for the first time that the flighty halfling would actually stay out all night.

“It’s not safe here Gindel, you should go.” Lessah grabbed her delving suit, and dashed behind her changing curtain.

“Where are you going Sneak?” Gindel asked. Lessah could sense the tension ease between them a bit.

“To find that fat tailor. He is hiding more information, and is very likely behind the attempt on my life. I believe I owe him the same favor.” She emerged from behind the curtain and read Gindel’s approving facial expression. The suit left little to the imagination and it was clear that she was a fully-grown halfling woman. Clear that is, to all who could see her. Holstering a pack of daggers on her back, she turned to Gindel, “I owe you my life Ranger. I can never repay you enough for that.”

“Perhaps to see you a bit more in a less official capacity,” he raised his eyebrows a bit, “and out of danger?”

Lessah actually smiled at her friend this time. “I’ll meet you at sunrise,” and then added, “if I live.” With that, she sprang into stealth mode and very nearly disappeared before Gindel’s eyes. She was well down the street before he caught a last glimpse of her.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 3
Questionable Intent


The past few weeks seemed to be a blur to Deriaz, and his mind continued to race in an effort to keep up with it. The Lord of Blades had destroyed the guild hall, Ragyr had joined up with him, Ranux was still nowhere to be found, he was still trying to figure out exactly how money worked after Jaggie tried to teach him, Zoltando was out murdering Warforged, Sho was being hounded for what he did in Flamekeep, Uxor was worrying about Varro, he found his mind drifting to Mekari occasionally as well. . . And the list continued.

He glanced down as he felt a heavy object push against his leg. The large metal dog he had found a few nights ago in the sewer, named Spike by Liyra in the Fellowship, looked up at him, confused. Deriaz reached a hand down, and rubbed the construct’s head. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” he sighed. The dog still looked confused.

Deriaz moved a few feet ahead, and Spike followed close behind, until the sound of footsteps coming up quickly behind him came to his ears. He turned around in time for Ragyr to practically run into him. Ragyr’s hands wrapped around Deriaz’s arms, and the two stared at each other for a few seconds. Eventually, Ragyr was the first to speak. “Would you stop it!?” he yelled.

Deriaz blinked in confusion. “Stop? Stop what?” He heard Spike growl behind him, but Deriaz quieted the dog by making the usual sound that Spike responded to: A mix between a hiss and the sound of static. The dog turned quiet instantly, and only looked up at the two in confusion. Deriaz returned Ragyr’s gaze. “What are you talking about? I haven’t done anyt—“

“The whole thinking thing, that’s what!” Ragyr yelled again. Deriaz felt the hands squeeze in frustration. “You need to just relax, and look alive! Quit worrying about all the stuff, and—“

“Relax? How can I just relax!?” Deriaz growled, finding himself lost in a fit of frustration. He reached up, and jerked Ragyr’s left hand away from him. “How can I just relax when you’re part of the problem, hm?”

Ragyr looked confused. “Part of the problem? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid. You know exactly what you’re doing,” Deriaz spat, “what with the whole joining Blades little army thing.”

Ragyr laughed, but kept his firm grip on Deriaz’s right arm. “That’s not something you should be worrying about. I’m fine. You need to get your priorities in order before—“

“Get my priorities in order,” Deriaz interrupted again, “really? You’re the one who should be worried! That Forged is a madman, and you know it! How can you just join him that easily, after seeing what he did to the guild hall?”

“—Before you go insane!” Ragyr finished. He narrowed his blood red eyes, glaring in silence to let the effect set in. Moments seemed to pass before Deriaz spoke up again.

“. . . Insane? Me? Right. I’m fine. Really. I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all,” he chuckled. “Insane. . . Hah. You sound like the one who’s going insane.”

“So you don’t even listen to yourself, hm? The things you babble in your head don’t even make sense anymore! You used to have a clear train of thought, but now it’s like you just spew whatever you please!” Ragyr growled.

Deriaz stared in confusion. “Babble? It sounds alright to me. . .”

“Oh, sure, to you. Cause everything sounds alright to you. But one second you’re thinking about Jaggie, then you’re thinking about the mute, and then you’re thinking about me. In one second. Does that sound like it makes any sense?” Deriaz shook his head as Ragyr continued, “Exactly! You need help. And I’ve got just the solution.”

Deriaz smirked under the mask. “Oh, really, you have the solution? Humor me. Tell me, what is it that you have that could possibly save me from insanity, as you say."

“Join the Brotherhood. It’s the only way,” Ragyr said under his breath. The dog seemed to pick it up, and it reared back, continuing to growl again.

Deriaz looked at Ragyr in horror. “You don’t honestly think I’m going to join you and that crazy group of Warforged, do you?” He frowned as Ragyr nodded. “Then you’ve got another thing coming. I’m not going to join. If anything, that would be what drives me insane,” he laughed, and wrenched away Ragyr’s right hand from his arm. “I don’t have any more reason to talk to you,” he sighed, and turned away. He made the hissing sound at Spike again, who quieted immediately, and followed at his heels.

Ragyr was left, staring after the two as if Deriaz had just slapped him in the face. A fit of rage came over him. “You fool!” he yelled, and ran at Deriaz. Before the blue Warforged could react, Ragyr had him by the neck, and pushed his head into the wall of a nearby alleyway.

Spike growled and leaped at Ragyr, but the effort was in vain. He spun around quickly, as a staff materialized in his hand. The head of the staff connected to the side of Spike’s airborne body, and the force sent him to the ground, where he lay unconscious. Ragyr turned back to Deriaz, only to find a sword to his face.

“I only want to talk, runt. Give me another chance. Let me just explain how—“ Ragyr started, but stopped at the look of pure, insane rage in Deriaz’s eyes. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, and started again. “Let me just explain how, uh, how the Brotherhood could help you. Please. I didn’t mean to attack. I just—“ he stopped as the sword pushed closer towards his face.

Deriaz narrowed his eyes, seeming to judge Ragyr. After a moment, the rage left his eyes, and the sword was lowered. “Fine,” he said quietly, “you want to talk? Then say it now, while you still have the chance.” Ragyr looked around, and pushed Deriaz lightly into the alleyway.

“Not here, too many people. Just follow me,” he whispered, grabbing Spike’s body and dragging it with. They moved into the alleyway, and around a corner, where no one could see the three. He dropped Spike, letting his head fall to the ground. Calmly, he turned to Deriaz. “Now, then. . . A few things.” Deriaz nodded, and Ragyr held up a finger. “Number one, the Brotherhood would help you to forget Jaggie, the mute, and all those other flesh creatures in that guild. Number two, you would feel at home among others of your own race,” he ignored the rolling eyes on Deriaz’s face, “and number three. . .” he paused.

Deriaz waited a moment before prodding the final point. “Number three?”

Ragyr’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t take well to being threatened,” he growled. His left hand thrust outward, and an invisible force of energy ripped the six swords and the tower shield off of Deriaz’s back. Deriaz looked back in surprise as the pieces of metal clattered against the wall, and turned back only to meet a black fist in his face.

He stumbled backward, feeling punch after punch slam into his body. Eventually, the far wall of the alleyway pushed against his back, and Deriaz found himself defenseless. He reached down to grab the tower shield, but the sound of crackling fire and the heat of flames covered him. “I’ll just leave you to think about it,” he heard Ragyr’s voice over the flame. The heat of it was constant, as if a jet of it was standing in front of him. The pain became so much that he felt his vision begin to fade on the edges, and the ground came up to meet him.

Ragyr stood with an outstretched hand, frowning at the deed he had just done. He raised a hand to his forehead, feeling slightly off-balance from the pain Deriaz had just received. ‘Must have pushed him a bit far,’ he thought. The purple runes on his body glowed dimly, and white energy pulsed at his hands. Carefully, he repaired himself and Deriaz, but only to the point where the latter would lie in pain for a few hours before he would be moving again. He moved, then, to the construct dog, repairing it to the same level as Deriaz.

He sighed as he climbed a tower of boxes nearby, not looking back. “You could have made this so much easier,” he muttered under his breath as he took off across the rooftops of Stormreach.

[Robi3.0]

The first few days out of Stormreach were about a dreary as Belbe’s mood, she didn’t see her self as a heartless killer. A heartless killer is actually what she felt like right now. Unfortunately right now wasn’t a really good time to feel bad for ones self. The job she had gotten for her friends seem good when they needed a quick getaway. Now however it was becoming more troublesome by the hour. The guide hired for the expedition was a barbarian by the name of Ulf. He might have had a way with directions but it was very obvious that he was far stupider then he clamed he was. Also the other armed guards where humans not more than a few months in to adulthood and Belbe wondered if any of them had seen battle before.

It was Grimlore and Belbe’s guard shift and they walked in their assigned spots about 15 feet behind Ulf. Of course Kirshank was fast asleep in the back of a wagon he had spent his night watch drinking with a younger guard. It was somewhat cold this morning and Belbe wrapped her thick cloak tightly around her. She looked up to see the Barbarian stop suddenly. She quickly reached and loosened her sword from it’s sheathe; she briefly wished she hadn’t left her shield in the supply wagon. Grimlore who was ahead of her was the first to make it the barbarian. “What is a matter Ulf is your loin cloth giving you a rash or is there a reason we stopped.” Grimlore then pushed himself uncomfortably close to Ulf. Ulf pushed out both his elbows in an effort to reclaim some of his usurped space. Grim didn’t budge. Belbe walked up behind Ulf and in an attempt to defuse the situation she placed her hand gentle on Ulf’s neck as she stepped around to face him. “Mighty Ulf what is wrong here?” Belbe really hoped that she sounded as sincere as it had in her head. Of course Grimlore could have said it and Ulf wouldn’t have noticed a difference. He puffed out his chest and lifted his chin proudly into the air. “That right me are mighty.” Grimlore rolled his eyes and Belbe just stood there emotionless waiting for Ulf to tell them want was the problem. Ulf then looked down at the piece of parchment he was holding and then down each of the forks in the road ahead of them one going right one going left. He then scratched his head. “problem be map broke. Map say go north road not go north it only go left or right.” Grimlore looked up at the raising sun and saw the in fact north was directly ahead of them while the road forked east to west. Grimlore grabbed the parchment the barbarian was staring at and examined it. For once in Grimlore’s life he was amazed that how lucky he and his friends could be. He eyed the Barbarian with shock and more than a hint of anger. “What is going on here you fool? This parchment isn’t a map it is a supply invoice. YOU have been leading us though the wilds with a supply invoice. How stupid are you? I don’t think you can even read.” “I to read” yelled Ulf in protest. “Oh yeah, well what does this say than.” Grimlore handed Ulf back the parchment. “Ulf handled it up to his nose then at arms length as if he were trying to mimic an ancient wizard reading a scroll. “It say go left.”, Ulf declared “No it doesn’t you dumb yokel It’s a supply invoice” Grimlore went to grab it back but Ulf stuffed it in a pouch before Grimlore could make his move.

“What are you three doing up there?” came the voice of the Head Master of the expedition. He was the academic type, long robes and wire framed glasses perched at the end of a long crooked nose. More trusting of the Barbarian then he should be. “This dumb halfling for brains here is going to get us lost.” Grimlore’s face turned red with anger. The head master stood there calmly for a few moments in order to let Grimlore cool down. “Ulf is a highly qualified tracker and guide. I trust him with my life. It is his job to lead the way; yours is to keep us from getting robbed. GOT IT! The robed gentleman turned around and walked back to the covered wagon he had setup his office in. Ulf stood at the head of the line with a look of triumph on his face. A smirk slit his face as he turned around and waved at the caravan to continue. Grimlore still infuriated took up his position 10 feet behind Ulf. Belbe who was behind Grimlore barely made out his whispered compliant, “I don’t trust this moron with my life,” right before he smashed a large beetle, that crossed his path, flat with his boot.

For the rest of the day the caravan traveled without incident. Belbe shift end in the late afternoon and she quickly retired to the back of the wagon Kirshank had been sleeping in a few moments before. It was her turn to take the third shift tonight and she wanted to be well rested. She did however worry about leaving Grimlore and Kirshank unsupervised with Ulf; there wasn’t anyway to guess what would happen to Ulf if things went bad.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 3, cont.
Questionable Intent


Deriaz wandered the Marketplace, slightly more confused than he was when he entered the Phoenix Tavern the other day. Jaggie had apparently been looking for him, worried that Ragyr had gotten to him first. As his mind wandered to Ragyr, he heard someone slide off a roof and down to the ground.

He turned around quickly, to see Ragyr walking casually up to him. He didn’t say a word, but leaned up against the wall of the building Deriaz was standing next to. The two stared at each other for a moment, before one finally spoke up.

“So. . .” Ragyr coughed. Deriaz nodded, waiting for him to say what he wanted. “. . . About, um, the other day. . . Maybe I went a little overboard.”

Deriaz laughed. “A bit?” He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It’s old news.”

Ragyr’s eyes widened. “You’re just going to forgive me? That easily?” His eyes widened a bit more as Deriaz nodded. “But I almost killed you and that dog.”

“But you didn’t, and now I’m up and walking,” Deriaz shrugged. “Look, are you here to say something, or are you just here to apologize?”

“Wh—“ Ragyr started, but then snapped to attention. “Right, right. I got another idea, actually.”

“Another idea? This isn’t involving the Brotherhood, now, is it?” Deriaz narrowed his eyes. “I’m not joining them. Jet of flame or not.”

Ragyr shook his head. “No, no, think of this idea more as a. . . A vacation.”

Deriaz cocked his head slightly in confusion. “A vacation? Define vacation.”

Ragyr laughed. “You know. An extended period of time where you just relax and let your thoughts wander—away from the troubles you’re having,” he emphasized, “like with Jaggie and the mute and that whole Fellowship guild.”

Deriaz shrugged. “This has to do with me going insane again, doesn’t it?” Ragyr grinned, but Deriaz sighed. “Look, I’m not going insane. I’m a bit stressed, but not insane.”

Ragyr rolled his eyes. “Look, I know insanity. If you don’t recall, I work under an ‘insane’ Forged, remember? Trust me, you’re border-line. A little more, and I think you’d go over the edge.”

Deriaz laughed. “Alright, this vacation. . . What are we doing?”

Ragyr grinned. “Glad you’re more open to this idea. Some sort of caravan, needs protection—“ Ragyr continued, though he saw Deriaz’s mask stretch slightly, as if the Forged had something to say, “—but they’re only going on merchant business. They aren’t adventurers. Trust me, with the two of us, there’s nothing that will get past them. You have nothing to worry about.”

“How long will we be gone?” Deriaz sighed.

“Ten days, give or take one or two.”

“Ten days!? You really expect me to forget everything for ten whole days?”

Ragyr nodded. “Well, honestly, I do,” he groaned at Deriaz’s frustrated gaze. “Look, don’t give me that. Besides, it’ll do you good. Listen. . . It’s not like you’re going to die on this trip. We’ll be fine.”

Deriaz sighed. “Yeah, sure, whatever. When do we leave?”

“You’re coming, then?”

Deriaz nodded. “I just asked when we’re leaving, didn’t I?”

Ragyr game a wild laugh. “Ah, much better. And I didn’t even have to use force this time! Alright, then, we leave in six days, not counting today.”

Deriaz nodded, and turned to walk away, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to see Ragyr grinning at him, mischievously. The two stared at each other for a few seconds, until Deriaz finally spoke up. “What is it now?”

“Funny you brought up the Brotherhood a little bit ago. . .” Ragyr chuckled.

Deriaz turned, giving Ragyr his full attention. “How so? What did I say that was so funny?”

Ragyr took a few steps back, jumping onto a crate. He looked ready to take his leave. “You know, they got a new member.”

Deriaz shrugged. “So what? So they got a new member. What do I care?”

Ragyr frowned. “And I thought you would be one to keep track of your friends.” He quickly leapt onto the roof of the building, and took off.

“Wh—Ragyr, wait!” Deriaz yelled. He climbed the boxes quickly, but it was in vain. Surveying the rooftops, Ragyr was nowhere to be found.

'He says I shouldn’t worry much,' Deriaz thought, 'and yet he just makes me worry more. A friend. . .? Who do I know that would join the Brotherhood?'

He climbed down off of the boxes carefully, and began to walk again. All the while, he couldn’t seem to comprehend who of his friends would willingly join the Lord of Blades army.

[Lessah]

Stormreach has a few "Little" Problems...

Chapter 5: The Spider’s Sac

Morah Ismora sat patiently waiting on a bench in the back of the Golden Wing Inn. It was a bit out of the way and not nearly as lively as her favorite place, the Phoenix Tavern. There she could listen to the live band play and dance, but not today. Saldez had asked her specifically to meet him here, Morah assumed, because this particular inn was known for its discretion.

“Greetings Lovely,” Saldez whispered the silky words right behind Morah’s ear to give her an appropriate start as well as a chill.

Morah gasped, whirled around quickly and threw her arms around the handsome halfling’s neck in delighted surprise. She nuzzled herself in the crook of his arm and placed her finger vertically across his lips.

“I have been waiting for you all afternoon! Why can’t we go to back to the Phoenix tonight?” She teased in the hopes of getting her way.

Saldez wrapped a strong arm around her waste, placing his hand in the small of her back in order to confidently draw her body closer to him. “This is where I want you to be.” He kissed her neck lightly in order to further demonstrate his point.

Morah very nearly swooned but pressed further, “Can’t we just go for a little while?” In answer, he brushed his lips against hers in a delicate kiss, which she returned and melted into his arms. When he released her, she made no further protests.

“Did you do bring me what I asked for?” He queried bringing her back from romance to reality.
She cast her eyes down suddenly remembering the strange request Saldez had made of her.

Morah pointed under the tavern bar at a burlap laundry bag. He seemed pleased as she handed the bag over, “What do you want with that thing anyway?” She queried making a disgusted face.

“That’s not for you to worry about Lovely.” He replied, looking in the bag to make sure he had what he was looking for and then back up at her. “I’ll arrange a room for you to spend the night.”

Morah looked suddenly wounded. “What? Aren’t you staying with me?”

In reply Saldez allowed himself an almost hungry look at the beautiful girl. “Is that what you want?” He smiled and advanced into her personal space never taking his eyes from hers.

Her eyes were wide and innocent with anticipation and a longing to feel loved. She wanted to please him, but felt strangely conflicted. He came very close to her then, drawing his hands up to her face. His expression softened a bit as he stroked her cheeks with his fingers, running them into her hair and drawing her in for a deliberate and passionate kiss.

He drew himself away from her soft lips and nudged his forehead against hers. “Promise me you will stay here and wait for me.” He whispered softly. “You’ll be safe here, and I’ll return for you later.”

Morah nodded, and looked down so as not to show her disappointment.

********

Lessah was busy following Ryvis in the shadows of the city’s buildings. She had little trouble spotting the tailor, and so far he had led her through the city and into the harbor to the end of the warehouse district. She could smell the salty sea air and see the last rays of light reflecting on the water in the harbor where docked ships waited until they were ready to set sail.

She lightly made her way to the nearest rooftop in time to see him ducking into the side entrance of one of the warehouses. She picked her way around until she could pinpoint the appropriate building Ryvis had gone into. Through the aged and cracked wood Lessah could see a faint glow of light coming through a wall in the rear of the building. She perched herself on a ledge and peered through the crack in the wall. She spied Ryvis speaking to a grossly overweight halfling seated behind a table, eating from a huge pile of steaming meat and vegetables. Lessah could only just make out the back of the halfling’s balding head, but she could see Ryvis very well, and her halfling ears perked up so she could catch the conversation.

“What in the nine hells took you so long?” Demanded the fat halfling, his mouth was full of food and it muffled his speech a bit.

“I’m sorry, Gil.” Ryvis explained apologetically. “I still have a shop to run you know.” Ryvis was sweating a bit as he spoke and he was wringing his favorite hat in his knuckles as he talked. Lessah thought to herself that this must be the infamous trader, Gil Yarbarrow. She watched as he got up from his meal, and closed the distance between himself and the frightened tailor.

Gil’s outstretched arms suggested he wasn’t angry at Ryvis, but when he was close enough, he grabbed the tailor roughly, spun him around, and pinned him against the table. He then stabbed the halfling in the hand with the same knife he had been using to eat his food. Ryvis cried out in pain as the knife penetrated all the way through his hand and into the table.

Lessah could see Gil well enough now. He had dark tuffs of hair only on the sides of his head, a large, pudgy nose and dark eyes. He seemed as wide as he was tall, and greasy meat still clung to the side of his mouth and cheeks. He spit food and rough words at the whimpering Ryvis.

“You’re shop ain’t gonna be nothing when we’re done here Boy-o. This place is gonna be so busy shoring up its defenses to try and stay out the Aundairian war, it ain’t gonna notice that some two-bit halfling tailor has closed up shop.” He removed the knife roughly, spilling his wine goblet over in the process. “Ah, now look what cha made me do…” He protested, Ryvis immediately fell to the floor and Gil kicked him almost playfully, “Cheer up Boy-o! We’re gonna be rich, heh heh, rich!” He declared wiping his knife roughly on Ryvis’ cap and stabbed another generous piece of meat onto it immediately.

Another halfling came in then, and Lessah’s eyes narrowed with rage at the site of him. When he spoke, she could hardly believe what she heard.

“I have it Gil.” said Saldez clutching a burlap bag at his side. “It’s here.” He produced the bag for the obese halfling to inspect.

Gil grabbed the bag and looked inside and then at Saldez. “Ha ha ha!” He laughed and slapped Saldez roughly on the arm. “You see, brother,” Gil boasted pointed at Ryvis, “that one succeeds where you fail!” His smile suddenly dropped, and he turned back to Saldez. “What of the girl then?”

Saldez straightened, “She’s dead sir, I killed her myself,” and he produced a locket that Lessah recognized as Morah’s favorite.

Gil looked at the young lad as if to size him up. “She was a ripe and pretty young thing.” he said smiling, revealing large bits of meat still in his teeth. “Did you taste a bit o’ that sweet fruit before you did the job?” Saldez’s answer was a confident look that Gil accepted as a ‘yes’.
Outside on the ledge, Lessah could not believe what she was hearing--could not breathe. Morah dead at the hands of Saldez? Flashes of anger coursed through her body. Her heart pounded, and Lessah had to concentrate hard not to overreact. She thought to herself that she was going to slit that two-faced halfling’s throat from ear to ear as soon as he walked outside. She had already subconsciously drawn her dagger and had it at the ready.

Gil spoke again, this time to Ryvis. “What about that other ptsrtck?” Gil asked using a halfling expression that loosely translated into ‘*****’.

Ryvis was wrapping his hand in a strip of cloth. “She’ll not be hard to find.” He answered breathing heavily; “I put so much ever-bright extract into the stitching of her suit that she’ll glow like a beacon come moonrise.”

Lessah’s eyes widened in fear as she peered over her shoulder at the new moon. Her face was awash with light and she looked down to see her delving suit beginning to glow with bright white light. Startled, Lessah dropped the death grip she had on her dagger; it bounced off the adjacent wall and clamored to the ground. The noise did not escape the attention of the three men inside the warehouse. Gil immediately made a motion to Saldez, who darted out the door.
Lessah, however, was already on the ground and running in the shadows, naked, her suit left behind on the ledge in a crumpled, glowing heap of material.

Running along the dock, she noticed that people seemed to be everywhere. Fearing that Gil’s men would not be far behind her, Lessah took to the water and started swimming. She swam around the dock, darting in and out of boats in order to stay hidden. She finally picked her way around rows and rows of docked ships to the open water that would lead her to Stromreach’s other dock in the Wavecrest pier area.

She crawled out of the water, shivering and naked, and ducked quickly behind several rows of barrels and supplies that were waiting to be loaded onto one of the ships. The Dockmaster strolled by to inspect the cargo before it was to be loaded, and scratched his head as he found a burlap bag missing and a pile of fruit spilled carelessly all over the dock.

Lessah poked three careful holes in the bag she had stolen. And put her head and arms through them making a sort-of oversized shirt, giving her an appearance very much like a street urchin.
She heard footsteps then--guards from the port authority most likely--and Lessah dashed into the shadows. She could hear two male voices talking, their voices carrying into the night.

“So her dad says if I marry his daughter, he’ll leave me his farm when he dies,” one guard was saying in his thick coastal accent as Lessah slowly crept through the shadows around the two men. The light was on them just enough so Lessah could see that one of the guards was Gindel. He listened with passing interest to the other man’s story, and never even glanced in Lessah’s direction. The guard continued to speak, “His daughter’s nothing special, quite ugly really, but I never owned no land o’ me own afore. What do ya suppose you’d do?” He asked Gindel.

They were passing too close to Lessah now for her to move, so she froze in place, hoping they would keep walking. She considered for a moment calling out to Gindel, but did not want to risk breaking his trust or the connection she had with the port authority. The new information, she would have to divulge to him later, after, of course, she had killed the treacherous Saldez and the trader Gil Yarbarrow.

Gindel spoke to the other guard as they passed by. “A lady is only as good as her heart, friend. But I will say this--the woman I pledge my heart to would look good even if she were only wearing a sack.”

Lessah’s heart jumped. No way would he have made that cryptic remark if he hadn’t seen her. She picked her way down the street and broke into a dead run until she reached the harbor, safely stowing herself in the small space between two buildings, so she could think. Immediately she thought of her sweet and innocent cousin Morah, and began sobbing. The girl fell to her knees punching the nearest wall until the pain from her bloody knuckles was worse than the pain in her heart. She swore vengeance then, and made an oath to Dol Dorn, the god of strength and arms, under her breath, remembering that her thinking coin was also lost with her delving suit.

Lessah looked around the skyline of the harbor, and sighed. She would have to circle all the way around the city to get back to the Marketplace and figure out her next move. She paused a moment to think about where she was headed. Going back to her apartment would be suicide. Gil’s thugs would be waiting for her there. The guildhall of the Order of the Sword and Rose, would be closed up at this hour, and there was no guarantee that anyone would be there to let her in. She finally decided that it would be safer for her to break into Gindel’s loft apartment, and borrow some clothing and weapons from him.

She struggled to scramble barefooted up to the nearest rooftop, and began picking a careful path that would take her to back to Gindel’s home.

[Lessah]

Stormreach has a few "Little" Problems!



Chapter 6: Lerincho Yarbarrow


Lessah had a devil of a time prying open Gindel’s window without thieves’ tools. When she was finally inside she hastily began rummaging for some leather garments that might fit her.

“You’re late.” An unfamiliar male voice said casually from the pitch blackness of the next room. Lessah turned, startled, as the light from a match suddenly sparked up, lighting up the stranger’s face--a halfling face. The girl considered running, and even backed toward the same window she had come in, but the stranger spoke again. “You’ll not be going anywhere, Youngling. You make more noise than a herd o’ minotaurs when you sneak. There’s nowhere you can hide from the likes o’ me.”

The odd nickname struck Lessah. No one had ever called her ‘youngling’ before. It was a halfling nickname reserved for the youngest members of the family, or by fathers to their halfling daughters… Lessah felt as if her feet were glued to the floor, her heart was pounding, and she wanted desperately to run, but could not find the will. So she stayed frozen in place.

The stranger had used his match to light a small lamp next to him. Though dim, Lessah could see that the stranger was quite a bit older than she was. He had short, black hair that turned into silver only in the sides of his head, and deep blue eyes, much like her own. His clothes were a bit tattered, but under them he appeared to be well-muscled, and in better shape than he should have been for his age.

“Who are you?” She finally managed to say, but something inside Lessah told her that she already knew.

Rolling his eyes, “You’re far too serious Youngling, just like your mother.” He puffed his pipe idly and waited for her to react.

“You’re Lerincho Yarbarrow,” Lessah stammered. “My…father,” she concluded biting her lip.

“Don’t be thinking you’ll be getting any awards for brains or anything esle girl, unless you count the one I already gave you for being the worst thief in all o’ Stormreach.” To demonstrate his point, he threw a dimly-glowing delving suit on the floor at Lessah’s feet and he continued. “Cleaning up yer messes in this town is downright exhausting!”

Lessah fixed him with a stricken look, but tried to recover, she realized he must have been talking about the assassin she had killed behind the Wavecrest Tavern as well. Now she realized why the body had never been discovered. She realized too that he must have been following her for quite a while, long enough she thought, to… ”You are the one who tried to poison me!” She accused.

“Lerincho put his hands up in a questioning gesture, “don’t take it so personal girlie. It wouldn’t have killed ya! Yer immune to it now anyway. Ye can thank me later fer that!”

“She took a deep breath and asked, “What is Gil planning to do with that poison?”

“Ha!” He pointed a finger at her, “You think you’re so smart Youngling?” Lerincho chuckled a bit and smiled a pleasant smile that revealed a small gap between his two front teeth. Lessah could not see how a knave like this charmed her incredibly serious mother into bed. “Yer in over yer head, and daft as well! Aye, at least yer sister’s got her good looks, you had better learn to be a proper rogue soon or you’ll end up dead.” He laughed again as if making another private joke, “You may end dead anyway! Ha, ha, ha!”

Lessah became very angry at the mention of her cousin, “Morah IS already Dead!” Lessah exclaimed fixing him with an incredulous look.

“Wrong again girlie!” Lerincho said poking his finger at her, “That drug-running boy could no more kill that delicate flower than his own mother. She's been spotted. Yer sister's already on her way to see her Uncle Gillie, and he’ll not be too pleased that he’s been lied to.” Changing his expression suddenly to very serious he said, “Put yer suit back on Youngling. It’s time fer you to follow in yer Da’s footsteps.”

“Why are you doing this?” She asked him.

“Don’t ask questions ye ain’t ready to hear answers for youngling.” Lerincho countered back and pointed for Lessah to go and change.

Lessah complied, suddenly hopeful that Morah was indeed alive. She dashed behind the doorway of Gindel’s bedroom. It was then that she noticed the folded-up brown packaging that contained the concentrated troglodyte poison that had made her so sick earlier. Neatly folded into a small square, so not to spill its contents, Lessah reasoned Gindel must have taken it from her apartment as evidence. Reacting quickly, she stashed the entire package into the pocket of her suit.

Her father was behind her then, with what looked like a basin of water, which he wordlessly threw on his daughter. Lessah noticed immediately that the glow of the suit subsided almost completely. “Everbright extract.” he muttered more to himself than to Lessah, “What an amateur!”

They were off then, both of them together, Lerincho made his daughter lead the way so, as he put it, “they would both get there alive.” Lessah tried purposefully to test the man’s agility, using the rooftops and leaping over and into spaces she wouldn’t dare have tried on a different night. She felt, though, the need to prove herself to him, to try the limits of her own power. Lessah scolded herself for being so petty that she would need the approval of a man she had never met, but the girl continued to take greater risks all the same.

To Lessah’s dismay, he seemed to have no trouble keeping up with her. Moreover, he made the extremely difficult jumps she was doing look effortless--practice, she assumed. When they arrived, she drew a guilty bit of satisfaction that the old rogue had beads of sweat streaming down the sides of his face. They looked at the warehouse, which still had dim rays of light shining through the cracks in its back room.

Lessah wondered inwardly if her father would really want her dead, as well as her cousin. Then she remembered that the man had used the word ‘sister’ not cousin, to describe the bard, she wanted to ask him about this, but could not find the courage.
The muffled screams of a halfling female broke the still night air, and she peered into the alley in time to see a human thug with a bag slung roughly over one shoulder. The bag was moving, and sounded very much like Morah. Lessah made herself ready to jump down but a firm palm on her shoulder directed her otherwise

“That’s not the way girlie.” Lerincho withdrew his hand. “No more ledges fer ye neither.” Lessah fixed him with a confused look and he indicated with his finger the highest point of the warehouse roof. “Up there. You’ll know what to do when the time is right.”

Lessah was deeply conflicted. “Father,” she tested the words gingerly, “I don’t understand…” She could see that the new title affected him, and watched as his facial expression softened a tiny bit.

Lerincho silenced her with a look. He pointed to the roof again, and Lessah did not argue this time. She was too concerned about Morah. She was scared, excited, and worried all at the same time. If she lived, she thought to herself, that she would have to spend months thinking about the events of this night. When she reached the high point of the warehouse roof, she glanced quickly back over her shoulder, but Lerincho had disappeared.

She turned her attention to an exploration of the roof in order to discover exactly what her father had wanted her to see up there. She spotted it well enough--a dagger had been stuck into the wood on the rooftop. Not just the wood, Lessah realized, but a hinged door that would give a person access the building. Lessah could see now that Lerincho was helping her, and she felt immediately conflicted. She wondered who he was really helping: Lessah, The Yarbarrow Brothers, or himself. The manner in which he was going about it, suggested he had a hidden agenda all his own.

She pried open the roof door carefully, stashing the dagger in the folds of her suit, and landed noiselessly in the rafters of the warehouse. Silent and still, she watched as the human thug who carried the kicking and screaming bag walked underneath her and through a door to the back room. She followed the path of the rafters until they came to a small vent. It was too small even for a halfling to climb through, but offered the girl a view into the next room.

She tensed with anger at the site of Morah being dumped roughly out of the bag and onto the floor. Lessah could see that Gil was there, sitting at his table with a full goblet of wine. He brought his massive frame around the table, walked over to Morah, and lifted her chin so he could see her face. Lessah could see the girl was frightened, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.

Lessah quickly took stock of what else was in the room. She could see Ryvis, in the corner with his bandaged hand, and three halfling fighters rested on the far wall, along with the human thug. There was something else too--a flash of light in the corner of the room that was unlike anything the girl had seen before.

Out of the shadows, as if from nowhere, a halfling emerged dressed in dark crimson robes. The others in the room looked surprised by the appearance, as if the corner had been previously empty. Everyone, even the heartless Gil, straightened up and showed a hint of fear at the sight of… Lessah squinted, trying to get a better look. She guessed him to be some sort of magic user. His hair was jet-black with silver on the sides and slicked back so that it looked wet. For all intents and purposes, this halfling looked exactly like Lerincho, save the eyes. Lerincho’s eyes were sky blue, like Lessah’s, and this man’s were beige and gold.

The caster strolled past Ryvis, who took his hat from his head and looked down. He passed Morah and eyed her with curiosity, narrowing his gaze a bit as if to study her quickly in detail, and placed himself firmly in front of the fat Gil Yarbarrow.

“Idomeneus,” Gil started to say, using the caster’s name as if to explain himself, but was cut off as Idomeneus waved his hand. A nearby length of rope on the floor sprang to life and began effortlessly strangling Gil. “Please… brother…” Gil managed to whisper through puffed, red cheeks.

The spell caster released him, and addressed the gasping Gil. “Indeed, brother…” He began with a bit of distaste, “I have been waiting a fortnight for the ingredients for which I have asked and paid. The same ingredients, I might add, that will make your trading business flourish beyond your wildest imaginings.” He gestured around the room as he spoke, “Why then do I see you holding court?” Gil tried to speak, but Idomeneus cut him off. “I have scried you. I know that thanks to Lerincho, you have what I sent you for, so if I might be so bold…What in the nine hells are you doing brother? And what, if I may inquire, are you still doing in Stormreach?”

Gil had recovered fully then, and stood his ground to his brother. “Listen up Ido,” he began, “I know what I’m doing. I got a score to settle with a certain lying little Halfling. After that, you’ll have your goods, and not a minute before.”

A knock came just then--a special knock from a side door that Lessah guessed was an alternate entrance. Gil smiled and pulled Morah roughly behind his great girth. He then made a quick hand gesture to the fighters who drew their weapons.

The person who emerged from the side entrance was none other than Saldez Boromar. "I have nothing new to report Gil," he began, "we have men in her apartment and others combing the city. It’s only a matter of time before…" Saldez stopped short. His eyes darted across the room at the four thugs and he drew his weapons, preparing for a fight. Saldez craned his neck to get a look at Morah while the four surrounded him.

With an ax that dripped acid in one hand and dagger in the other, Saldez began an elaborate dance with the four men, their blades ringing against one another. Saldez took a few quick steps backwards to get his opponents on the move. As his opponents moved forward, Saldez screamed and jumped over the head of a particularly short halfling with a tuft of bright orange hair.

Gracefully landing on the balls of his feet, Saldez spun and slashed at the orange-haired halfling's back with his ax; a scream of pain echoed through the room as the halfling began to sag toward the floor. Saldez spun on a heel to keep the other three in front of him, kicking the injured halfling's feet out from under him. As Saldez lashed out with his dagger at the human, a purple streak of light erupted from the corner of the room. Saldez leapt up almost to the ceiling of the warehouse and ricocheted off of the central rafter in an attempt to dodge the missile. In midflight, the purple steak struck Saldez in the chest throwing him through the closed warehouse door, shattering it to splinters.

Lessah realized that Idomeneus must have thrown the spell at the athletic Saldez. The caster was giving orders to his brothers now, and preparing what looked to be a complicated spell. "Bring her!" Lessah heard him shout over the continued clinking of blades.

When Lessah looked down, she realized that the battle had begun fresh right underneath her. Saldez, now breathing heavily with sweat dripping from his brow, had sprung through the door and onto the same rafters where Lessah was hiding. If he saw her, he did not notice. He was too busy dodging the daggers that were being hurled at him from down below. His left arm hung limp and he had lost his dagger, probably during his collision with the door. One of the halfling fighters managed to jump into the rafters with Saldez, compounding his problems. As Saldez turned to face the other halfling, Lessah realized that her best option for escaping with Morah relied on helping Saldez out of his present situation.

She pulled her dagger from her suit, along with the brown paper containing the troglodyte poison. With a quick movement, she stabbed the paper to coat the blade with ichor, and tumbled the length of the rafter to place herself behind Saldez’s opponent. She stabbed the halfling sharply in the neck, and he fell before she even had a chance to withdraw the blade. He landed hard on the floor with the hilt of Lessah’s only weapon protruding from the back of his neck.

With a quick glance at Lessah, Saldez wordlessly jumped back to the ground in order to engage the two remaining fighters. The human, however, had caught sight of Lessah, and was more interested in throwing daggers at her than engaging Saldez.

Lessah was fully occupied with dodging the human’s throwing darts to realize what else was going on. Many of them missed the mark and lodged themselves in the wood of the rafters. Seizing the opportunity, Lessah began pulling the darts loose and returning fire at the human. It was then she noticed that Saldez was down to only one opponent. The human noticed it too, and lost interest, for the time being, in Lessah.

The human squared off with Saldez and drew a short sword from a sheathe at his hip. The broken-nosed man lunged at Saldez's left side with a snarl. Quickly turning, Saldez launched an all-out attack on the man, but he seemed to be a half-heartbeat behind the human. Their sound of their clashing blades rang loudly through the warehouse as the two continued their dance. As the fight continued, Saldez found himself being forced steadily toward the back wall.

Lessah made ready to jump down and retrieve her tainted dagger when she noticed Gil barking direction from the door "Kill him! Come on, put your back into it! What are ya waiting for?"

Taking advantage of the distraction, Lessah allowed herself to fall directly on top of the dead halfling. She seized her dagger, still buried in the halfling’s neck, by the hilt and let it fly. It landed its mark square in the center of Gil’s massive gut, and the big man tumbled backwards, gasping for air and crawling backwards in slow motion. She could see the man was trying to speak, and could not. She smiled to herself with satisfaction knowing first hand the kind of misery he was in.

The man lashed out again at Saldez's left arm but this time Saldez managed to swing his ax across the front of his body and parry the strike. Saldez's blow knocked the man off balance and he lost his footing on the rough planks of the warehouse floor. As the man fell, Saldez dropped to the floor and slashed at his chest with his ax. With a hiss, the ax buried itself deep into the man's chest and he hit the floor with a crash.

Gil’s brothers had managed to take hold of him and were helping to drag him backwards towards a bright, white door. Lessah caught sight of Morah, half out of the bag they had placed her in again, struggling to free her self. A flash of color crossed Lessah’s peripheral vision in the next instance, it was Saldez, she realized sprinting by, his opponents dead on the floor behind him.

The Yarbarrow brothers, Ryvis and Idomeneus, almost had the struggling and grossly overweight Gil through the white door. Ryvis turned to grab the bag containing Morah as well, but it had been pulled clear, and her with it. In the next instance, there was a flash and the door was gone. Leaving only Lessah, Morah, Saldez, and four dead opponents.





Epilogue


Hours later, Lessah patiently sat waiting in silence for her turn to speak with Aribell Kross, the Mistress Of The Order of The Sword and Rose. She glanced over at her cousin, or perhaps her sister, she decided who was being fully entertained by Andark. Lessah never even bothered to ask the silly little halfling why he was here at such an early hour. He was dressed in a jester’s outfit, which sported the light-blue and gold colors of the Andairin royal court. His gold vest was much too small, even for a halfling’s size. The jester’s hat he wore was a felt crown that had little bells at the end of each crown point. He was juggling and dancing for Morah who cheered him on. Lessah asked Andark why he would be at the hall at so early an hour in a jester’s uniform.

Andark stopped abruptly and allowed all the fruit he was juggling to fall dramatically to the floor around him. One piece, an orange, hit him smartly in the head and he pretended not to notice.

Instead he replied, “Lessah my dear, you have got to get up pretty early in the morning if you want to be taken seriously in this town!”

With that, he grabbed the bottom of his little gold vest and straightened it smartly causing the little bells on his hat to shake and jingle a bit, emphasizing his point. He marched off to the kitchen then, and Morah ran after him, asking all kinds of questions about court and the queen,

“Aribell will see you now,” Elle, Aribell’s secretary said to Lessah in a almost a whisper. Saldez, Lessah noticed, was being carried deeper in the hall on a stretcher by clerics of the Order. She glanced up quickly to see if Morah had noticed, and the girl had not.

Lessah knew it was not likely that Morah would leave the hall until Saldez was able to walk out with her. Morah had gone on and on about how bravely he fought for her and would not stop crying. That is, until Andark showed up and distracted her with antics.

Wearily she descended the stairs and made her way to Aribell’s office. This time, ever bright lamps had been placed to light-up the otherwise dark hall, and there was nothing but darkness outside the large widows.

Aribell sat behind her desk writing what appeared to be a letter when Lessah entered. Too tired for formality, the halfling rogue seated herself into the adjacent chair and waited patiently.

Aribell looked up at Lessah and spoke, “What an exciting evening you’ve had Lessah.” She began. “Saldez informed me before he became completely unconscious, that you saved his life in that warehouse.”

“Will he…”

Arabell raised a hand to cut Lessah’s question off. “He’ll be fine, we have our best clerics at his side right now.” She smiled a bit, “He is cooperating fully, and he’ll make a fine agent for the Order if he chooses to accept the offer.” Aribell paused and sipped warn milk from a cup. “Let’s talk about the things we know, the things we don’t and what is between.”

Lessah informed Aribell of what she knew about the troglodyte poison, and her first hand knowledge of what the effects were. She also implicated the tailor Ryvis as a Yarbarrow brother and conspirator.

“It would seem the Halfling War Council has revived itself.” Aribell concluded. We know of three brothers, the trader Gil, the Necromancer Idomeneus, and the tailor Ryvis,” she fixed Lessah with a quizzical look. “Is that correct?”

Lessah burned inside. She knew that her father had to be considered a member of the Council by his brothers, and started to open her mouth to tell Aribell as much. The words stopped in her throat, and she found that she could not bring herself to betray Lerincho after he had risked himself to help her and Morah.

Aribell raised her eyebrows in question, and Lessah replied, “Yes, that’s correct.” Lessah looked down slightly and asked the obvious question on everyone’s mind, “Arabell, what are they going to do with that poison?”

“More importantly,” Aribell corrected Lessah, “Is where are they going? Combined those concentrated extracts are almost instantly deadly.” Aribell, put a hand to her head in a concerned gesture, “Thank you for your time Lessah, please don’t be a stranger as the Order is always a friend to you.”

Lessah walked home then, right down the middle of the street. She didn’t care who might be watching from the shadows; she was exhausted. She arrived home to a thankfully empty apartment, washed up, and changed her cloths. Lessah found that, though tired, she still could not sleep. Too many events were running themselves over in her mind.

She climbed out her window and onto her roof just as the first rays of light were threatening to crest the Market Place walls. The familiar sounds of the fruit vendors crashing around and setting up shop for the day were a strange comfort to the girl.

Lessah sat on her roof and allowed the sun to light up her face. She thought about the events of the night before, and wondered inwardly why her father would risk retribution from his brothers to protect Lessah and… her sister. Lessah decided that Lerincho must be father to both girls. She thought to herself that Lerincho’s brothers must not know about their existence. If they did they did not let on.

“Sunrise, is now my favorite time of the day lady.”

Lessah closed her eyes and smiled at the voice behind her. “Hello Ranger,” She replied.

Gindel walked over to sit beside Lessah, and put a comforting arm around her. Lessah was far too tired to argue such a bold move and instead, laid her head on the young ranger’s shoulder.

They sat in silence for moment, watching the sun crest the walls of Stormreach. When Gindel finally looked down to speak, he saw that Lessah had fallen fast asleep. He smiled to himself, pleased that she would trust him enough to show such vulnerability.

“We have much to talk about when you wake up sneak.” He said to the top of her sleeping head.

[Robi3.0]

Belbe had started her shift about a half an hour before sundown. The sky was a deep purple now as the sun finished pushing the last of its self behind the horizon. The wagons of the caravan were now circled around themselves for protection. Belbe was rather pleased that she didn’t have to even tell them to do it this time. She had spent the first hour of the shift trying to explain the basics of swordplay to her young guard partner. She eventually gave up and told him to yell if he saw anything out of the ordinary.

They were now walking the radius around the camp about 180 degrees from each other. The rest of the camp had gone to bed a little while ago. The only real movement coming from the camp was, besides the two guards, was the light and shadows from the campfire dancing around from under the wagons and between the wheel spokes. The weather had taken a turn for the better while Belbe slept away the afternoon. Now instead of having her cloak pulled up tight around her, it hung loosely around her shoulders. The moonlight gently gleamed off of her chain mail, silver like her hair. She tried to keep her self from becoming too bored by reciting spell verbal components in her mind, while keeping a lookout for danger.

“BELBE!” Belbe’s mind rocketed into action when she heard the voice of her partner call out. Heming was the young man’s name. She always thought that Heming was more of a halfling name, but her partner tried hard and meant well. He actually showed up on time for guard duty more often then Grimlore and Kirshank put together. “BELBE!” She made her way around the radius of the wagon as fast as she could. Aided by a spell or two she arrived only a few seconds after Heming had begun his call. He looked very surprised to she that see had gotten to him so quickly Belbe crouch down low to the ground as soon as she arrived. “What is the matter?” She whispered as she pulled Heming to his knees by the back of his shirt tail. Heming pointed out into the night. “There is something out there.” Sure enough the forms of two large humans dragging another of equal size could be seen in the distance. “What’s going on” Heming asked as he reached, hand shaking, for his short sword.

Belbe knew exactly what was happening as soon as her keen elven eyes made out the shape of a mohawk on the top of one human’s head. She reached out and put her hand on the hilt of Heming’s sword preventing him from drawing it. “Go wake one of your a buddy and tell him to take over my post.” Belbe stared out into the distance. “I’ll take care of this.” Heming took off in the direction of the guard wagons; Belbe stalked out after the retreating party, making sure to keep good distance between them and her. Her elven agility aided her greatly as she shadowed her quarry.

Grimlore and kirshank must have walked a good ten miles out from base camp before they stopped at the edge of a small forest. “What now Grim?” Kirshank dropped Ulf’s leg. He hadn’t imagined how hard it was to drag a 220 pound man all that way. If he had known he might have thought twice before agreeing to help Grimlore. “I suppose we are far enough away that we can kill his stupid accuse for a human now. Do you have the stuff?” In response Kirshank pulled a pack off the top of Ulf’s prone from; He pulled ten days worth the rations for one person out of it. After taking a bit of some tail bread Kirshank dumped the rest on the ground. Then he patted a bulging coin purse attached to his belt. Grimlore grinned that the thought of his plan blooming in his mind. “Good, now when everyone wakes up tomorrow, they will assume that Ulf robbed the expedition and ran off into the night. No one is going to bother going to look for him if they belief that.” Grimlore eyed the stolen gold. “You do know your splitting that with me 60/40 right.” Kirshank pulled a long dagger out of a belt sheathe. “If by 60/40 you mean 60 for me and 40 for you, sure. After all I did most of the dragging.” Grimlore looked at Kirshank with dangerous intent in his eyes. “WHAT, it was my plan I should get the most.” Kirshank gripped his dagger tighter. “I did this as a favor to you. I didn’t even hate the guy. The boy could drink! I should get the most.” Kirhank lounged out with his dagger. Just before it reached its intended targets throat, Belbe stepped out of the shadows. “Stop it” Kirshank pulled his dagger back before it hit the Barbarian’s throat. He shot Grimlore a sideways smile before turning to face Belbe. “Okay, 50/50.”

Belbe scowled at the duo. “What in the name of the Host are you two doing?” Grimlore more cavalier than usual leaned up against a tree and put his foot on top of Ulf’s chest. “I was wondering when you were going to come out of the shadows and join all this fun.” “You are not going to kill him, just because you don’t like him.” Grimlore stood straight up and kicked Ulf, who was starting to wake back up, square in the face. He succeeded in knocking him back out again. “I don’t like him this is true but it is more then that. Kirshank show her the map.” Belbe rolled her eyes. “I already know about Ulf’s map. I was there remember.” Kirshank pulled a piece of parchment out of his belt pouch. “No, this is a real map. I lifted it from the last tavern we where in, before I got hammered.” Kirshank pointed at the map. “This is where we are camped. We are heading east. In two days time we will be right in the middle of Hobgoblin Country.” Belbe grabbed the map to examine it more closely. “The three of us would make it out of there. Hells, Ulf might even make it out, but everyone else is going to die. That’s going to make it awfully hard to get another job don’t you think?” Kirshank finished and proceeded to kick Ulf in the ribs twice. Ulf was still out cold. Kirshank just kicked him out of spite. Belbe sighed. “You guys are right. We can’t let this idiot lead those bigger idiots to their graves. We’ll have to do something about this.” Grimlore smiled his trademarked toothy grin. “But you’re not killing him.” Kirshank stared that Belbe blankly. “Then what are we doing with him.” Belbe walked over to Ulf’s pack or rather the pack Grimlore and Kirshank stole in order to frame him. She began to rummage through it. “I have a better plan.” Kirshank’s eye brightened a little bit. “What kind of magics are you going to cast on him Belbe? Turn him into a frog, or maybe banish him to the abyss?” Belbe pulled some rope out of the pack. “No, you’re going to tie him to that tree.” Belbe pointed to a large tree right on the edge of the forest. Kirshank kicked Ulf five or six more times before dragging his limp body to the tree and stringing him up. Belbe picked up all the food that Kirshank had dumped on the ground and put it back into the pack. Then she placed it at the foot of the tree that Ulf was tied to. She turned around to return to camp only to be met with Grimlore’s angery glair. He had moved behind Belbe as she bent over to place the pack at Ulf’s feet. He was uncomfortably close now and Belbe became a little frightened. “What by the grace of the six are you up too? Leaving him tied to a tree is going to kill him as surly as I would have. This way is going to be a lot slower; you should just let me slit his throat.” Belbe cleared her throat and step closer to Grimlore in an attempt to show him she was not afraid. “I am up to nothing. If you kill him he is surly dead. If we tie him up here someone might come along and untie him; if not then it will be the wilds that kill him not us. I won’t have us killing someone in cold blood.” Grimlore back off a little but not much. The tension seemed to loosen a little between them. “What ever you say Boss” The venom dripped thick off of Grimlore’s tongue as the last of that conversation rolled from his mouth. Belbe started to walk back to camp, only giving a passing glance at Ulf as she departed. “You know what I find strange. You seem to have no problem with cold blooded killing when we’re getting paid. Why is that?” Grimlore’s words stung deep. Belbe could only reply under her breath. “Yes, that is strange.”

Grimlore and Kirshank stayed behind for a few minutes to make sure Ulf was properly secured. What that meant was that they beat him till he was awake and fully aware of his predicament. Before leaving Grimlore got up in Ulf’s face and whispered, “Who is the one who is might now?” Ulf answered back by spiting in Grimlore’s face. Grimlore simply turn around and muttered. “That is your one Freebie Ulf, good thing you won’t be around long enough to need another.”

From the distance Belbe could hear Ulf’s cries of pain. She tried to ignore them, but they still bothered her a little. What is wrong with me? She thought.

[Theris]

((Woot! Its Stickied! Thanks Quarion!))

[Robi3.0]

On the way back to camp everyone was disturbingly quiet. As the group topped a small ridge that bordered the camp, Belbe could see that camp was just starting to wake, as the sun began its ride into the heavens.

Belbe crept silently into the camp fallowed by Grimlore and Kirshank. Once they had made it into the perimeter of the Covered wagons, Belbe looked that the other two. “I am going to bed don’t bother me.” She then walked back to the wagon she had made her bed and crawled inside. She took off her cloak and armor leaving on only a Wool tunic and a pair of leather britches. She with out losing a beat then moved over to her person pack and began to search for something very specific. She pulled out a few wands and laid them on her stretched out bed roll, then a couple of empty spell component pouches. She had almost dug to the complete bottom of the bag before she found what she was really looking for, a plan brass cylinder. She grabbed it and made her way to the entrance of her wagon and stuck her head out to make sure that no one was spying on her. Her survey of the outside had proven to be to her satisfaction, so she ducked back into the wagon and popped the lid off the case. Belbe pulled several sheets off rolled up parchment out of the tube and began leafing through them to find the one she was looking for.
She placed the parchment on her bed roll and smoothed it out flat. She began to read the words softly to herself while concentrating on them in her mind. She began to feel energy build up in the back of her mind. It was small at first but it began to grow. The faster she read the faster it grew. The more she concentrated the stronger it got. Finally it grew to the point wear it could not be contain. Belbe uttered the last word from the scroll and disappeared in a flash of light.

After departing Belbe’s company Grimlore and Kirshank walked to the center of the camp and sat around the blazing campfire and waited. The expeditions cook busily hovered over the fires stirring this and flipping that. Kirshank helped himself to a cup of coffee and sat back down on a log next to Grimlore. He took one sip of the coffee and made a face. “This needs something.” He said to no one in particular; then he pulled a large flask out of his cloak pocket and poured some of its contents into the mug. Grimlore got up after a few minutes and walked over to the cook. “What are we having today?” Then with out waiting for a reply he manhandled the cook out of the way and began to make a plate. Before returning to his seat he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Belbe’s slim figure materialized only a few paces for where they had left Ulf tied to the tree. He was hanging limply in his bindings. A large black bird had made the back of Ulf’s head a perch and was probably waiting for his body to rot up a bit so it was easier to eat. Belbe hoped to herself that he had passed out and not dead. She approached Ulf cautiously and once she was within range she swatted that the bird. It flew off into the wood squawking in protest. Belbe left Ulf’s head and let go. It fell limply to his chest, but much to Belbe’s joy he groaned. She gently shook the poor man until he woke up. Ulf startled awake and cried out “Don’t Leaves me.” His voice was very hoarse probably because he and been yelling for help since they had left him. Belbe pulled a water skin from the bag that lay on the ground by the tree and held it up to his lips. “Drink this. You will need all the strength you have so relax I am here to help.” Belbe spoke in a soft soothing tone. She hoped that it would help defuse the situation. After Ulf had emptied most of the water skin Belbe ripped a strip of cloth off of the bedroll, which accompanied the pack, and wetted it down with the rest of the water. Ulf was badly beaten. His left eye was swollen shut dried blood crusted his upper lip and ran along his jaw line. Belbe even thought that he was missing some teeth but she couldn’t be sure if that was Grimlore and Kirshank’s doing or if he had been missing those teeth since before they had met. She did her best to clean the poor man’s face up. For the most part Ulf just hung there and took it like a man only wincing a few times while Belbe was working. Belbe looked the young man in the eyes after finishing cleaning his face. “I need you to listen to me very carefully and most of all trust what I am about to say as truth. I am going to untie you, but before I do that I need you to promise that you will not go after Grimlore and Kirshank. If you do it will only lead you to your death, since I was the only one keeping them from killing you the last time. I won’t step up for you again.” Belbe took the proud barbarian’s defeated look to mean he would oblige her, and cut him down. He fell to his knees momentarily unable to support his own weight. It was then that Belbe noticed the thick blackish purple pressure bruises around both his wrists, probably the result of being tied up and passing out forcing his wrists to support his whole weight. Belbe helped him to his feet. ”It is time for you to Flee Ulf, and maybe one day our paths will cross again under better circumstances.”

Ulf gathered his things and took off in a running stumble heading due west. Belbe watched him until he disappeared in the distance. Then she pulled her last teleport scroll out of her back pocket. She cast the spell and once again disappeared in a flash of light.

[Robi3.0]

Grimlore and Kirshank where both finishing their breakfasts when they heard the Head Master yell, “We have been robbed,” they both continued sitting on their log until they had completely finished their meals. When they were done they got up to investigate. After all they had to put on a show if this was going to work.

The Head Master was sitting amongst a pile of papers, supplies and the broken remains of a lockbox. Kirshank was the first to enter fallowed by Grimlore. “What seems to be the problem?” Grimlore said as he made his way around Kirshank. He did a rather convincing job at faking a surprised look when he saw the mess him and Kirshank had left the main supply wagon in. The Head Master got off his knees and kicked around a few piece of debris “We need to find out who did this.” “I’ll do a head count to see if there is anyone unaccounted for.” Grimlore said as he tried to hide his smile. Head Master gave Grimlore the go ahead with the wave of his hand as he walked out of the wagon. Grimlore and Kirshank smiled at each other as they fallowed the Head Master out of the wagon.

Grimlore walked to the center of the camp as Kirshank walked the perimeter of it banging on wagons and yelling for a roll call. “I want everyone front and center; we have a thief among us and I aim to be weeding him out.” Grimlore stood in the middle of the camp and yelled more and more command louder and louder. Pretty soon everyone was lined up in the center of the camp while Grimlore called out names. After about ten minutes they had completed the roll call and everyone had been accounted for except for Belbe and Ulf. Grimlore knew full well where Ulf was so he sent one of the minor guards to check his bunk while Kirshank and he walked towards Belbe’s. She must be pretty tried after last night Grimlore thought to him self as they walked to Belbe’s wagon. Once they where at the wagon Grimlore pulled open the flap to stick his head in and wake Belbe up.

Belbe’s body materialized inside the wagon. Hearing the ruckus outside from the roll call she knew that something was up. She quickly striped down to her underclothes and climbed into her sleeping bag. Just then Grimlore’s head poked into the wagon. He saw Belbe laying there seemingly asleep. He quickly looked around the wagon and noticed the contents of Belbe’s pack lay scattered above where Belbe lay. A few component pouches, some wands but more interesting was the scroll case that was opened and the stack of scrolls the lay beside it. “Belbe wake up we have been robbed.” Grimlore shouted at the top of his lungs. Belbe jumped awake being very careful to hold her sleeping bag over herself as if hiding something. “I know and you know that I know so why are you bothering me?” Grimlore looked at her suspiciously. “We are doing roll call you need to make an appearance so people know you are here.” Belbe sat up a little more but managed to keep her entire body covered up. “Okay, leave me and I will be out in a moment.” Grimlore eyed her a little harder. “Actually I would prefer you come with me a right now.” Belbe rolled her eyes and stood up still keeping the blanket over her body. Grimlore rolled his eyes back at her. “You can leave the blanket you know and quit wasting time.” Belbe dropped the blanket; it landed in a pile around her ankles. “Fine but would you mind leaving while I dress myself.” Grimlore seeing that she was not fully clothed which was the opposite of what he has suspected pulled his head back out of the wagon and shut the flap. “Be quick about it then.” Belbe simple smiled as she pulled on the britches and wool tunic. She slipped on her boots but didn’t bother tying them. She was planning on going back to bed as soon as possible.

Grimlore escorted Belbe to the center of the camp where the rest of the employees and scholars stood in a line. The bright morning light stung her eye a little, so she cup her hand over her eyes after she brushed a few stray hairs off of her face. Only a couple minutes passed when the guard that Grimlore had sent, returned from Ulf’s bunk with a halberd. “Ulf is missing. All I could find of his was this.” The guard presented the weapon to the Head Master; he took it and examined it for a while. “This was Ulf’s most prized weapon; he would not just leave it here even if it was him that has stolen from us.” Head Master looked at Belbe and Grimlore. “Something foul is afoot I want all available men searching the area around the camp for Ulf.” Belbe wiped some of the sleep out of her eyes. “That sounds like a good plan, but right now I am tired I just finished up the night watch where I might add I didn’t see anything weird. Grim here is in charge for the time being.” Belbe turned around and walked back to her wagon. Grimlore fallowed her and grabbed her firmly by the shoulder before his entered the wagon. “I don’t understand why you didn’t just try to talk them out of looking for Ulf of course this wouldn’t be a problem if you had let me kill him. Belbe looked over her shoulder. “What I don’t understand is why you went though all that trouble trying to frame Ulf, but you couldn’t check and make sure you had gotten rid of all his stuff. Beside they are not going to find him. This is your mess clean it up.” Belbe brushed Grimlore’s hand off her shoulder and climb into the wagon got ready for bed and went to sleep. Grimlore just shook his head a little and walked away.

[Music_Man]

The Saga of Killbot, Chapter 1: The Noose and the Heart

Killbot sat on the floor of the holding cell staring through the bars that separated him from the outside. The big warforge wasn’t much of a thinker or philosopher, but he at least understood the metaphor. Somewhere inside him he experienced epiphany regarding his construct nature and the prejudice that goes with it. Though, he would be hard pressed to actually express those feelings in words. It’s not that Killbot is stupid (he’s very brilliant at what he does), rather he is inarticulate and anti-social nature make him unable to explain the alien sensations of “emotion.”

As the sun slipped by and the silhouettes of the bars crept along the wall, Killbot came to understand those prejudices were the reason he was being sentenced to immediate execution. But he still could not comprehend why it was that way.

It was a delicate situation with a bit of history, but the authorities didn’t care about reasons. Killbot had recently encountered Jaggie Jukebox for the first time as he was leaving Tangleroot Gorge. The female warforged played him a few songs, and inside Killbot was filled with an unexplainable sensation – unlike any other he’d experienced. It was not only her songs, but something more about her presence that made Killbot feel. To any non-construct the sensation was quite obviously Lust, though the barbarian warforged created solely for battle had learned little of such pleasantries. This had been the only time they met, and it was rather brief. Regardless, as are the forest creatures drawn to the Orphean Lyre so is Killbot enamored by Jaggie Jukebox.

When Killbot learned Jaggie was kidnapped by two warforge, he made his way as quickly as possible to the scene of the crime. Not understanding others could not read his mind like his master had been able to do, he felt he didn’t need to explain or validate his desire to help. This made him come across just a little (to make an understatement) hostile and untrustworthy to the two halflings who were with Jaggie at the time. The fact he was warforged made it even harder for the two halflings to see the sincerity behind Killbot’s bewildering behavior. Being shunned away by the two lil’uns, Killbot turned his fury on the city. Jaggie needed rescuing, and if the bard’s friends weren’t going to help Killbot needed to take matters into his own hands. He ran about in his rage tearing up buildings, acting as a vigilante, and threatening bar frequenters in order to gain a lead. Maybe for the better, Killbot found no leads, which is what lead him to seek help from the SRPD; though that was probably the worst decision the barbarian has made to date.

Killbot was arrested on the spot when he barged into the SRPD’s office raging and demanding a large number of men to rescue the missing Jaggie Jukebox. The Chief of the Paladin Division had a good laugh before they detained him. Certainly they didn’t care about a missing adventurer; adventurers go missing all the time – it’s the nature of the trade. Killbot was also unaware his recent bout of destruction of city property and vigilantism had made him a wanted warforged.

The SRPD relished the opportunity to finally have someone to blame for all the warforge related crimes that remained unsolved. And certainly their new scapegoat would be very pleasing to the Coin Lords, some of who were very upset with the SRPD’s performance – or rather lack thereof, especially in regards to maintaining the peace and order among the Coin Lord’s constituents. Constituents who just had their houses smashed and their husbands threatened by this very same warforge.

Certainly having this one renegade warforge to “bring to justice” worked to their advantage and made them look good, not only to the men paying their wages but also to citizens who knew nothing more than they were told and lived their lives in fearful prejudice.


__________________________________________________ ______---=====++++====---__________________________________________________ ______


Killbot was humbled. He knew of nothing he could do to escape; he even hated the thought of calling it escape. Rather he needed redemption, though such a word was not a part of his limited but functional vocabulary.

Through the thunder of steel-barred doors came a man in robes. Killbot assumed him to be the executioner, for there wasn’t much time left until the order was seen through. As the man came closer, Killbot could see him hiding within a cowl. It was obvious this man did not want his face to be seen by anyone, though Killbot didn’t care for subtlety at this point and paid no mind. That is until the man stopped in front of Killbot’s cell.

Killbot was at first surprised, then he re-noticed the fact he was the only one being detained in this particular cell block.

The man peered through his cowl, into the cell. The man was obviously angered and upset. “Get up, ya big lunk o’ bolts, nuts, ‘n’ junk. It’s time ya be leavin’ this place.”

Killbot stared at the man with his blank red eyes. Killbot blinked. The man grew more annoyed, obviously he was in a hurry. The paladin unlocked the cell’s door.

“Look ya big lug, I haven’t got the time for you to sit there stallin’. I’ve got a schedule to keep. Now get up, yer coming with me.”

Reluctantly Killbot stood and followed the man out of the cell block. Quite to his surprise, he followed the man out the front door of the building too, and across the market place as the man sunk further into his cowl. Further still Killbot followed, until they had reached the wealthy section of Stormreach. Killbot was feeling quite out of place, and as his pace slowed the man grew evermore impatient.

It was at this point Killbot realized this man’s robes were the common attire of the Coin Lords; it made sense now why the man was afraid to be seen escorting a wanted warforge through Stormreach.

Killbot continued following the man’s lead quite curious as to what new fate he would be facing; perhaps he was meant to be a body guard or an assassin – Killbot would rather be executed than to sink to such lowly or dishonorable professions, but he decided to focus on the moment as opposed to fantasizing potential futures.

They entered a large house, and climbed two flights of stairs before entering a large study littered with overfilled bookshelves and unorganized notes scribbled here and there. There was a desk by a window. A large chair had its back turned towards the two. Initially, Killbot had assumed this house to belong the Coin Lord, but it now seemed maybe it didn’t.

A familiar voice spoke from the chair, though neither of them could see the speaker. “Ah, I see you’ve returned my friend to me. That was a very wise choice you made. Please, Killbot, wait in the hall while I finish business here.”

Before the doors closed and muffled the rest of the conversation Killbot heard the Coin Lord speak. “That’s my side of the bargain. Now where are those documents.”

In a few moments the doors reopened, and Killbot looked within to see the Coin Lord sitting at his desk – it was the Coin Lord’s house after all.

“Alright, it’s time to go now. These are for you – keep them safe.” Killbot was more than a little bewildered; he has a very keen eye, yet this elf managed to slip right past him at the same moment it had opened the door. Once Killbot recognized this as none other than The Reinvented he grabbed the papers being offered to him.

“I recommend you keep these document with you at all times Killbot, they grant you full protection from the law to a lesser extent of the freedom I enjoy. I further recommend you lay low while I finish smoothing this out. There are a number of issues at play here, including the SRPD’s chief paladin’s personal vendetta against me and my associates.”

“Oh, and one last thing. You owe, Sir Varro Velox your humblest apologies – if I’m not mistaken you thrashed his house just a little.” It was obvious from the hand gesture and tone of voice that was a generous statement.

With a waggle of his fingers, the two were teleported to a more secretive sanctuary.

"I hope you learned something from this. 'Cause I'm telling ya -- that's the way you survive doing what we do; staying ahead of the game and out of harms way."

In response Killbot could only nod. He had learned much, mostly about the ways of men, politics, and the corruptability of the human mind to find escape from psychological pressure (all of which were completey arbitrary and incomprehensible to the warforged). But most importantly, Killbot came to realize how he was different from all those he had encountered waiting for the noose... Unlike all of them who falter in their steps, the path he travels has a heart, incorruptable and inpregnable & nothing can stop him so long as he stay true to his heart & step.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 3, cont. (Part III)
Questionable Intent


Ragyr was practically dragging Deriaz down the street, early in the morning, before anyone else was on the streets. “We’re leaving. Come on,” he sighed, “would you just come already?”

Deriaz shook his head. “I still have to tell everyone how long I’ll be gone for! We don’t even have enough potions, and you haven’t told me anything about where we’re going—“

“We be goin’ to the Menechtarun Desert, though we’ll be makin’ some other stops along da way, y’know?” A Halfling with an odd accent behind Ragyr spoke up, catching Deriaz off-guard. “It be a ten day trip. We be leavin’ today, an’ we won’ be back till prob’ly da evenin’ of the tenth day. Yer sure you two can handle the responsibility?” he glared up at the two Forged.

Ragyr swung an arm around Deriaz’s shoulders, grinning. “Course we can!” he laughed.

The Halfling narrowed his eyes. “An’ ye be sure ya don’ be wantin’ pay for dis?”

Deriaz’s eyes widened, and he looked at Ragyr. “No pay? Whatever happened to—“

Ragyr cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I only work for a reward. But honestly, if it will get you to stop worrying so much, I think no pay for this is perfectly acceptable!” he laughed again, but Deriaz still looked worried. Ragyr punched him playfully. “Come on, what’s the worst that could happen, hm?”

The Halfling coughed. “Well, ye could die if’n we be ambush—OOF!” the Halfling coughed as Ragyr pushed him over with his foot. The black Forged moved in front of Deriaz, and grinned.

“Come on, Deriaz. It’ll be an adventure. Don’t you like adventures?” he laughed a third time.

Deriaz stared at him for a moment before finally speaking up. “. . . You’re insane.”

Ragyr grinned wickedly. “Possibly. Now, come on!” He walked behind Deriaz, pushing him towards the large covered wagon a few feet away.

With his feet dragging in the dirt, Deriaz glanced back at Ragyr. “Could I maybe write the Fellowship a letter, then, telling them where I’ll be?”

Ragyr growled, seeming to become more urgent. “No, no time. Come on, we’ve got to be off!” He grunted, pushing Deriaz into the wagon.

Deriaz’s attention shifted instantly to the brown wood on the floor. Around him, there were boxes, containing food and supplies. It looked to be an exploration caravan than a merchant one. Ragyr looked up at him, and hopped into the wagon with a sigh. “Look, they’ll be fine, alright? It’s ten days. What could happen?” Ragyr took a seat across from Deriaz. He grabbed the closest item next to him, an apple, and bit into it. “Look,” he said with a full mouth, “trust meh on dis one, mk?” He swallowed. “This is gonna be simple. It’s exploration. Nothing bad. What’s the worst that could happen? We just go through a few forests, see the sights, record some stuff, and we’re back.”

The Halfling could be heard outside, moving towards the front of the wagon. “Yeh, or we could die, if’n we run intah somethin’ dat doesn’t like us bein’ der.” Ragyr growled at the depressing comment, but shifted back to Deriaz, who continued to stare at the ground.

Ragyr tossed an apple at him. It bounced off Deriaz’s head, and into his lap. He picked it up, looking confused. “Trust me. We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, sure,” Deriaz sighed, as the wagon slowly began to move through the Marketplace. “Any reason we’re the only two on this caravan trip?”

Ragyr laughed. “Cause this fool is too cheap to hire more than us. And we’re even cheaper, considering we’re not getting a reward, and we don’t even need to eat or sleep! What could be a better deal, hm?” Ragyr frowned as his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Deriaz’s attention had shifted to the apple, almost looking as if it was the most curious thing he had ever seen.

Ragyr sighed, and grabbed a slip of paper and a writing stick. Quickly, he scratched out a note. To sign it, he pulled out a small, red vial. It appeared to be blood, though it wasn’t for certain. As the caravan passed by the Fellowship’s guild hall, he leapt out of the wagon. He sprinted to the door, slipping the note under, and dove back into the wagon. Deriaz continued to focus on the note.

Anyone who would have happened across the note would have found it hastily written. Parts of it were illegible:


To the Fellowship people, and anyone else who could possibly care:

The runt. . . Deriaz, that is, is in my care. We’re going on a caravan exploration trip. We’ll be headed down to the [the writing is illegible here]. Will be back in ten days. And don’t worry, I’m [a smudge] going to [more illegible writing] to Deriaz, alright? Don’t worry about us.

We won’t be worrying about you.

A large, deep red ‘R’ was printed below it. It was also signed ‘-Deriaz Ironfist’ carefully, looking like Deriaz’s writing than Ragyr’s.

Ragyr grinned to himself as they passed south through the city gates, and into the wilderness. He leaned back, and put his hands behind his head. “This is the life, hm? Just relaxing, and having not a care in the world!” Ragyr leaned over, grabbing a bottle of wine. He uncorked it, and drank half of the red content in one swallow.

Deriaz continued to stare at the apple in his hands.

[TreknaQudane]

Storms of Xen'drik: Rain (Part 3)

Softly chanting, Gauche went through the motions of a spell. After a bit of coaxing the Kundarak Wizard had agreed to train him, though in truth it had started out as blackmail, Drenor had been quite eager to get his keys back.
Reaching the end of the spell, Gauche quickly snapped his hands together with a small thunk. Slowly he pulled his hands apart and saw the bit of wax was still there.

“I'll be takin' it then your spell failed again,” Drenor started, “Yea've got no chance being a real wizard if you can't even create a simple ghost sound cantrip.” Standing up, the dwarf walked over to Gauche, “Go through the motions again...”

A little bit more hastily than he would have done otherwise, Gauche worked himself and Drenor through the motions. He remembered exactly how to do them... he just couldn't. His own body seemed to be working against him. Occasionally he'd been able to get the cantrip out with no issues, however his success rate was no where near good. It was beginning to frustrate the warforged immensely.

“I've got an idea Gauche, if yea are willing ta try. Some Kundarak agents engrave runes on their armor to make it easier to manipulate magic in, “ quickly the dwarf traced the outline of one such rune in the air, where it hung with a dull orange glow. “ yea could try the same thing with your... body.”

Letting the words hang in the air both literally and figuratively, Drenor walked quietly out of the room leaving his apprentice and friend Gauche alone, though he'd not admit the fact if anyone asked, with the floating rune and a tiny hammer and chisel floating besides.

<- Chapter 2 -> (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1064307&postcount=25)
<-Thelanis Anthology Index-> (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=863569&postcount=1)

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 4
Inside the Mind of a Killer


The caravan slowly rolled back into town from the same gates it had exited ten days ago. A black Warforged could be spotted inside in the back, waving a hand in front of a blue one. . . Who looked to be slightly different than when he had left.

The caravan rocked to a halt, and footsteps from the front could heard as the Halfling came around the back. A frown was easily visible on his face as he approached the two. “Exactly what duh ya mean by ‘I dunno wot his problem is’, eh?” the Halfling spat.

Ragyr seemed to be caught completely off-guard for once. “I. . . I meant what I said! He’s never acted like this!” Ragyr said as he hopped out of the back of the wagon. “He went into a trance around day four—“

“Lucky for us, that was de day we got ambushed,” the Halfling sighed.

“—And he hasn’t snapped out of it since. I figured he’s just thinking, but after five days of nothing. . . Not even a mental thought. . .” Ragyr trailed off.

The two stared in silence at Deriaz, who was still in the same seated position he was in before he left. Nothing was in his hands, though he kept them cupped as if the shiny red apple was still there. Ragyr eventually coughed, and spoke up. “Well. . . I suppose I should take him someplace safe, hm?”

The Halfling coughed as well. “Yeh, well, yeh mind explainin’ one more t’ing for meh? Wot’s with the whole mutation thingy dat he went through during da trip, hm?” He sighed seeing Ragyr’s blank expression. “I mean how he got. . . How he got. . .” Ragyr reached up and tugged Deriaz out of the wagon. The blue Forged followed obediently, but no expression was on his face.

“Y-You mean how he got bigger?” Ragyr stammered. He almost looked as if he stared at Deriaz with a look of terror in his eyes. But he was right. Deriaz stood at least seven feet tall now, and the limbs of his body, his torso, and his head—Though only slightly--All looked as if they had enlarged.

The Halfling nodded. “Yeh said he was. . . What. . . Only about six-- Seven hun’erd when you signed up fer this?” Another frown when Ragyr nodded. “Well, yeh could have told me he’d get dis big!”

Ragyr shrugged. “Look, he shouldn’t have done this. I’ve only got one idea for why he’s doing this and. . . Well, frankly. . . I don’t exactly like it. . .” Ragyr trailed off again as he scanned over Deriaz.

The Halfling looked confused. “One idea? Wot, yer friend here be eatin’ somethin’ to make himself bigger? Cause he looks as if he’s tippin’ the four-digits in weight!”

Ragyr shook his head. “No, no, not that. . . Though you are right. He’s at least a thousand, but. . .” He paused, and the Halfling tapped a foot, waiting for an answer. “I’m taking him someplace safe. Maybe he just needs time, and he’ll go back to normal, you know?”

“Yeh, wotever. . .” The Halfling sighed, and began work on moving the wagon through town.

Ragyr tugged on Deriaz’s arm. “Come on, um. . . Runt. We need to get you someplace safe. . . One of the tavern’s, maybe?. . . Look alive!” he groaned as he tugged the lifeless zombie. “For the love of Blades, could you just co-operate with me for a bit?” He continued talking to Deriaz—Though it was obvious it was more to hear his own voice—As he lead the blue Forged to a nearby tavern in the Marketplace.



~ ~ ~ Inside the mind of Deriaz. . . ~ ~ ~



Deriaz scanned his surroundings for the nth time. It wasn’t that he didn’t know where he was; far from that. He just had no idea what was going on.

The floor below him was stone, and in the shape of many large squares. Deep cracks ran through them, though, and through the small rivers of water that separated the squares. On the edges of the platform, which itself was only a few hundred feet wide and long, were cliff faces. They went down for miles, into the black darkness below. Some parts looked as if a chunk had broken off, and fallen to the depths. As if to demonstrate, a large crack split the silence, and a massive piece of stone split off from the ground. It tumbled downward, disappearing into the pit. At the same time, a swift pain enveloped Deriaz, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

He looked next, at the people standing around him. Some were Forged, some were human, some were elf. . . All stared at him, except for the chilling fact that most of the faces were gone. As the rock fell, Deriaz watched in horror as the faces of two of them disappeared. A woman with white hair and equally white skin, and a Forged with only one eye and no ghulra. Deriaz’s mind raced, trying to remember who they were, but the names were gone as well. All that was left was the bodies standing lifelessly, with the heads angled at him to give the illusion of staring at him.

He shifted around uncomfortably, then. It wasn’t that he wanted to get comfortable. It was the fact that chains were covering his entire body, restricting him from moving easily, and two masks covered his face. One covered his forehead and left eye, and the second covered his mouth, and made a second layer over his left eye. He shifted around again, but suddenly fell backwards as something tugged him to the ground.

“Brilliant, isn’t it?” a voice came to his ears. A blue Forged eventually stood over him. He stood seven feet tall as well, and looked just as heavy as Deriaz now looked. As Deriaz stared, he couldn’t help but notice this new person looked exactly like him. The newcomer stepped around him, and continued talking. “Because Ragyr isss split from you. . .” he started, but grinned as Deriaz flinched at the way he talked. A hint of insanity was in his voice, but the hissing was what bothered Deriaz the most. It reminded him of a snake.

The newcomer started again. “Brilliant, isn’t it? Because Ragyr is sssplit from you, that leaves me as next runner-up to inherit the body. Oh, if only that fool could have been a little sssmarter, and just waited to see how easssy it is to take it from you. All you have to do,” he said in a sing-song voice, talking with a beat, “is erase. The memory. Of what. Isss already. . . There.” He spun around, and grinned at Deriaz.

Deriaz shifted again, and only succeeded in moving an inch to the right. His new weight was uncomfortable to him. “Exactly who are you again?” he groaned.

“Name’sss. . . S1T6L,” he said with a cackle, “but you can call me Serpent. Can you guess why?” he cackled again.

Deriaz rolled his eyes. “I have no ideeeeAH!” he yelped as Serpent grabbed the chains and pulled, squeezing them around Deriaz. Another face from the crowd of people disappeared as the pain faded away.

“Then you are a ssstupid one, aren’t ya?” Serpent said with a laugh. “Look, it’sss like this. . . Well, lemme give you the short version, ssso I don’ hurt ya head, k?

I’m. . . You.” He grinned again, and slammed a foot into Deriaz’s stomach.

The wind rushed out of Deriaz, and he coughed. He didn’t know why, but he did. After a moment, he shook his head. “You’re me? But I’m me. And you look like me. So how can you be me if I’m me and you’re you and not me and my mind is mine and yours isn’t mine as well?”

Serpent stared at Deriaz for a moment. “. . . Look, Mistake, d’ya have any idea what you jussst said?” He sighed as Deriaz nodded. “Good, cause I don’t. . .” He shrugged, and continued. “Anyway, it was back when we tried to split. The first time. You were a spawn of that accident, mmk? In other words, Missstake, um. . . You’re a mistake. And. . .” The grin faded from Serpent’s face, and he glared at Deriaz with a literal fire in his eyes. “I want my body back. Mmk? But we jussst gotta erase whatever you’ve got crammed in here already. Your mind, that is.”

He lifted up the chain. “And we kinda gotta get put back into one. Thank the starsss that comes along in the mind wipe package, hm?”

He dropped the chain, and grabbed Deriaz by the neck, lifting him to his feet. “Now, then, let’s finish up with the names and the friendsss, and let’s get started on the bigger stuff.”

Deriaz noticed a light purple glow coming from Serpent’s left arm. He spied the word ‘FaiLeD’ etched in his arm, exactly like in Deriaz’s own. The capital letters were the ones glowing, and the arm and hand began to slowly flatten. They became razor-sharp on the edges, and eventually molded into a massive bastard sword hooked to him by the elbow. “Say goodbye to your last little friend over there,” Serpent cackled, and motioned toward a little red-headed Halfling in the front of the group.

Deriaz’s mind raced, and he tried to grab the name as quickly as he could. The blade of Serpent’s arm was quicker, and it dug into Deriaz’s stomach, through a small slit between the chains. The pain was severe, but there was no oil or any fluid lost. The face of the Halfling faded though, as Deriaz frantically snatched the name in his thoughts. The stone floor thundered as another large crack ripped through it.

Serpent grinned, and threw Deriaz to the ground. “I could finish this now, but. . . Thankfully for you, I’m the kind that likes to play with my killsss. . . Remind you of anyone? What’s he call himself now. . . Ragu? Raga? Ragyr? Ragyr, yeah. I learn from the bessst, kid,” Serpent laughed, and walked off again. Deriaz caught a glimpse of a chain connected between himself and the back of Serpent’s head.

Deriaz let his head fall back to the stone floor, not minding the little river of water that was running into his head. He tried desperately to remember the name of the last figure whose face had disappeared. “L. . . L. . . Um. . . L. . .” he muttered repeatedly, but nothing came. He cursed himself silently for forgetting so easily, and let time slip by.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn IX "Transitions" Chapter 1

*Uxor nestled in the crook of Varro's arm, quickly succumbing to slumber. On his back, looking to the ceiling, Varro closed his eyes as well, but sleep was far from his intent. The Avatar had much explaining to do.*
Varro: <What is happening to me?>
<I seem to recall a certain new Augur saying that his position did not seem 'holy' enough. I also recall that I told you soon it would be.>
Varro: <Must you always be sarcastic?>
<Must you always begin our talks with a question?>
Varro: <Fair enough. I can't help it. You could have warned me... you made it sound like all I had to do was throw gatherings.>
<You were told you would know great joy and be blessed. You are mortal still, do not mistake that. You just are coming to acquire a few new talents.>
Varro: <How do I control the images I keep seeing?>
<You will never be in control of them Augur.>
Varro: <Lovely. So at random times, I'm to be overwhelmed by this host of visions...>
<You certainly are a jittery think, aren't you? It is not 'random' images, Augur. You are connected to all the joy, triumph, laughter, and... happiness of others. You see the moments of pleasure in their lives. The reason it seems to overcome you is you have not learned to accept this as being part of who you are. Once you understand that it will always be there, you can focus on it, or on the things around you. As you grow better with it, upon both.>
Varro: <So... mental conversation... a voice that is always heard... by many at once even... now the sight of all happiness. Anything ELSE I should be warned about?>
<Only if you insist on hearing things you won't yet understand. The more time that passes, the more fluidly your new talents will function. You are one, you just haven't grasped al full understanding of that. I will say that more is coming Augur.>
Varro: <In what way?>
<Many. You will go where your desire takes you. All who look upon you will know that you serve our domain and that you are smiled upon. This will earn both respect... and disdain, Augur.>
Varro: <Nothing without a price I suppose.> *Varro relented his talk with the Avatar, and instead allowed his mind to wander in the plethora of images that fought constantly for his attention. Always, he was an observer. He found that while some of the sights and feelings were pleasurable on a basic level, many more were so on a perverse or even grotesque level. The Avatar was correct - celebration belonged to ALL manner of beings, good and evil alike. His focus narrowed as one image started to pass through his awareness... Uxor, coiled against him like a contented cat. It was a bit peculiar to be able to look upon himself as an observer, but there he was, and there she was.*
Varro: <Uxor?>
*He saw her sit up, and immediately he began to lose his grasp of the image, but not before something else had his attention. A voice, and one that was not the Avatar...>
<Varro?>
Varro: <Who is this??>
<Me? Who are YOU!? Varro is it you?>
Varro: <Only in so much as you tell me first.>
<Has to be you. Who else uses so much twisted talk.>
Varro: <Maybe I only SEEM like Varro to lure you into security.>
<This isn't funny. Get up!>
<No, it's NOT funny... wait, get up? From what?>
<From bed, what do you think I mean?>
Varro: <Uxor?!>
*Varro forced back the images entirely, with some difficulty, until he had the sights and sounds of the world around him once more. One of these sights was Uxor, sitting up in the bed beside him, and staring at him indignantly.*
Varro: How did you do that?
*Uxor rolled across the bed to fetch something to write with. Though the expression on her face was all that was really needed... she had similar questions for him, and none too happy. Varro awaited her writing patiently, propping himself up.*
Uxor: "Well it's not the first time someone's walked around in my head. I just thought about what to say to you, and hoped you could hear it. It worked with Mekari, so I figured the same would apply to you. I don't appreciate it either. If you want to know something, ask. Don't come snooping in my mind..." *she stopped writing. Perhaps she felt hypocritical of berating him, considering what she'd put him through recently.*
Varro: I wasn't snooping. It's just something that came to me. One of my ... how shall I say... divine gifts? I haven't quite gotten the hang of it yet, sorry to wake you. Again.
*She rolled her eyes at him as she continued to write.*
Uxor: "That again. I wish you'd stop with all this Avatar stuff. I'm starting to think I come to bed with it rather than you."
Varro: Don't talk like... I can't help...*he huffed* this isn't something I can just cause to go away.
Uxor: "Maybe you should have thought about that."
Varro: Look, if the god of... *he waved with his free off hand nonchalantly* of whatever it is you believe in for a god... If they came to you and told you that you could be an instrument of change... the power to reach the masses...a voice on their behalf, revered, feared, hated, and celebrated... would you do it?
*She shook her head 'no'*
Varro: No? You're telling me you'd say no to that? This isn't just the honor of your name in song and tale Uxor, this... this is notoriety on a divine scale!
Uxor: "Life isn't about that Varro. We strive for balance with the world around us. What I believe in is karma, you know that. If there are gods, so be it. My purpose is to atone for actions I take in this life. What you're talking about is trying to control the balance, not move towards it."
Varro: Well for all this talk of balance and answering for your actions, it certainly doesn't stop you from c... *he stopped himself, recalling that the last time he'd thrown out a flippant comment, it bought her hand across his jaw. She looked at him expectantly.*
Varro: Alright, I can see you're not exactly with me on this. Just give me a chance to show you how useful this can be. Think of something that makes you happy. Anything. Think of the best meal you've ever had, or the greatest victory... just something that puts you in a good mood.
*She huffed lightly through her nose, but sat up tall and closed her eyes meditatively. Varro in turn permitted the flow of images to engulf his consciousness once more. He tried to move among the images quickly, which was almost a dizzying experience. In passing, he could see her, reflecting on her meeting with a gleaming white man. By appearance, Varro presumed the man and Uxor were connected some how. Before he lost sense of her altogether, he tried once more to contact her.*
Varro: <Was that your husband?>
*He started to feel discouraged as the sight of her became lost amid the sea of other pleasures of the lands... until he felt her reply.*
Uxor: <No. My father.>
*Varro opened his eyes and fought back the images once more. He tried to hold to that connection with her. How his mother ever managed this as a normal means of communication was a mystery.*
Varro: <Look at me.>
*Slowly she complied, and as her eyes came open, the two sat staring at one another.*
Varro: <Can you still hear me?>
Uxor: <Yes.>
*he smiled at her proudly* Varro: See? No more writing required.>
*She shook her head to that notion in protest.*
Varro: <You're not talking though, you're thinking. Besides, any vow that permits you to communicate with the quill certainly can't fault you on this method.>
Uxor: <You don't look for ways to get around your vow Varro.>
Varro: <But you weren't looking. Uxor think of it. You could be far from me, and yet I could still contact you. Think how broad our work can be done. Failing all that... it is good to feel what your voice is like. Well. At least what you imagine your voice to be like.>
*She straightened a little more from embarrassment*
Varro: <Don't worry... it feels beautiful.>
Uxor: <You're just flattering me to have your own way.>
Varro: <Flattery with the truth, the only kind worth giving. Lies are easily suspected. Useful, but much trickier to work with. As for having my way... well, I'll confess to that.> *he shifted his weight to playfully roll her towards him. She couldn't suppress a smile, despite her best efforts.*
Uxor: <You're always scheming.>
Varro: <Always.>
*She relaxed her face to look more serious. Worried even.*
Uxor: <speaking of truth and suspicions... people are going to start talking... if they haven't already.>
Varro: <Let them. All that matters is we are content. Don't trouble yourself over gossip.>
Uxor: <And what if that gossip turns to saying this arrangement of ours compromises our ability to do our duty for the Fellowship?>
Varro: <You've been staying here every night for quite some time. Even before 'this' as you call it. We functioned fine then, why should they think it any different now?>
*She gently ran her fingers along the back of his neck, whereat he grinned broadly, shivering mildly.*
Uxor: <Sorry... I forget sometimes how cold I must feel to you.>
Varro: <Actually I'm getting used to it. Enjoying even perhaps. But that doesn't prove anything except that I enjoy you. If they have something to say about it, let them come to us. We'll handle them as they come, alright?>
*She didn't answer. He didn't press her for one either.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn IX "Transitions" Chapter 2

*The party was going better than Varro had anticipated. There were countless citizens there from far and wide. It seemed that at last he would be able to crush the rumor of his demise. Each time he turned to greet a guest, he was met with a small gift... food mostly. He accepted them with a broad smile, but after a time, he didn't think he could force himself to eat anything more. <At least it's better than them reaching out because they want to touch my face> he thought.
It was not long into the party when an eruption of color and music confirmed what he suspected. The Avatar was present.*
<When you get a moment Augur, I have something for you.>
Varro: <you know, I did say no gifts....>
<You will enjoy this gift. I said more was coming, if you must lump it with that explanation, my semantic bard. This is not a gift, this is another part of being Augur.>
Varro: <A man after my own heart, tricking me into accepting gifts. Very well. What shall I do with the crowd?>
<I will address them.>
Varro: <Really? I thought that was my job?>
<This is your birthday Augur. The greatest time of celebration, and you are to enjoy yourself.>
Varro: <Fair enough.>
*Indeed, the Avatar did address the people. Varro realized he'd been out dancing among the crowd in a set of skivvies, blending with the rest of the party goers. He then materialized once more atop the docks, fully ablaze in the multicolored robe, and directing the patrons to gather on the dock.*
*Varro was riddled with questions and uncertain comments from his guests, who wondered at the appearance of the stranger that went by so many different names among them. Cries of 'The Watcher!' 'Dances with Kobolds!' 'Rainbow!' and 'Gary!' erupted among the people. The Avatar gestured for Varro to approach.*
*The Avatar reached for Varro, and Varro accepted the grasp, as the Avatar explained to the people that the bard was to receive a gift. Varro was startled as he felt, more so than saw, the soft mist of something wrap round him. He looked down, and his eyes were met with an echo of the colored robe that the Avatar wore. A shout of 'Rainbow Two!' carried to his ears, which he definitively thought belonged to a certain Warforged friend of Uxor's. He ignored the tease, very astonished at the garment that was around him*
Varro: <What is this? I...>
<All who look upon you will know that you are smiled upon, Augur.>
Varro: <Thank you. It's... is it real? It doesn't feel like cloth.>
<It is a part of you. As will be this...>
*A hush fell over the crowd as another form appeared beside the two of them. This figure also wore the multicolored robe, but it was female in appearance. Varro thought it looked rather fair skinned... not quite the ice of Uxor, but not entirely far off of that. For a moment, Varro wished Uxor was here to see it. She was never going to believe it otherwise unless she saw it first hand.
This being radiated divine purpose, rather than moving among the people as the Avatar did. The crowd stood silently watching her as her voice permeated the air.*
Varro is the sort of person we delight in seeing among the people. We have a gift for his services.
*Varro glanced hesitantly at the gray haired male Avatar, who shoved him forward, as Varro had all but tried to slink behind him for protection from the female Avatar. Varro dropped to his knees and listened to the words of the second Avatar.*
This is a gift that was difficult to acquire, and all here should know that the essence of it is bound to Varro alone. It comes from lands far from these... in what you mortals call the 'Mournlands'...
Varro: Mournlands?! *he exclaimed, but stilled his tongue.*
*She continued undaunted by Varro's astonishment*
Accept this gift as a sign of our appreciation of you.
*At Varro's feet, a round shape glittered into being. It was a large shield, worn and ancient looking. Varro stared at it with unblinking eyes, until some part of him - or perhaps a prod from the male Avatar - set him to picking it up. Despite the size of it, he found it to be most maneuverable upon his arm... far less cumbersome than many of the shields he'd adorned in the past. Upon the face of the shield could barely be seen a crown resting in a field of green, and a wheat-like pattern that worked up to encircle it. He didn't have time to study it closer to try and make out the scene further. It was difficult to tell what the meaning of these symbols were... images from a time long gone from memory perhaps. Even before the prompting by the two Avatars, the crowd had burst into congratulations and looks of wonder at the gifts that had been bestowed upon the Augur.*
*For once, Varro really didn't know what to say, and he could not find words to give to the Avatars. Instead he simply radiated gratitude to them*
<You're welcome Augur. Enjoy your gifts. You will find they come and go for you at your will.>
*At last he managed* <They're a part of me now, aren't they?>
<That they are Augur. The scepter as well... your adjustment time was simply not complete. You've made much progress however, and after watching you, we felt you were ready for this.>
*Varro walked among the party goers as the Avatars faded from view, and he was almost in a daze with the excitement of it all. He heard one of the patrons calling out in alarm*
"Your contest! That isn't fair, they went and trumped us all!"
Varro: "Then we'll do it anyway, and find an outfit for me to wear when I'm not being so formal." *he said in an almost dreamy state, and experimentally, he tried to will the robe and shield away. He stood once more unadorned save that of his skivvies. Varro could only hang his mouth open with a maniacal smile painted all across his expression.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn IX "Transitions" Chapter 3

*Varro lugged the crate over the counter of the bank, and started to make for his next stop on his round of errands. His party had past, but there was still much to be done for the Olympics.
As he was leaving, his eyes came upon one of the guards, who looked at him with a knowing smile. Varro kept walking.*
<Are you sure about this?> *came the voice of Mekari in his mind. In the ever so slightest sense, he was relieved that to reply to her did not require the efforts and concentration of the Avatar's gifts.*
Varro: <That's an awfully bold disguise. I wonder how long before someone finds the real guard who belongs at that post.>
Mekari: <Only temporary. Just long enough to have a few words with you.>
Varro: <I'm glad they are few... I don't have time for very many.>
Mekari: <You insist on spending all your time with the pale faced girl, or else I'd have come sooner to speak.>
Varro: <Yes well it's the only way people trust that I am me, and don't paw on my face... thanks to you. But enough of your frustrations - which must be a forgotten experience for you to be so exposed - what am I to be 'sure' about?>
Mekari: <Your tournament. Not to mention these parties and gatherings of yours. You speak too freely of your talents my darling.>
Varro: <Again, thanks to you, I had to find a way to crush the rumor... one that YOU started... that I am dead. As for the tournament, it's not merely my tournament. It sounds like you've already brought yourself up to speed on my being Augur.>
Mekari: <As I said... you speak freely.>
Varro: <Well what of it? There's no going back now.>
Mekari: <I would that you'd have thought things through before you leapt to this. But you are right... no going back. However, the choice to be so public in your service to this 'celebration god' is one there is still time to remedy.>
Varro: <Why, pray tell, is that?>
Mekari: <Knowledge. Do you realize the potential you have... that could be put to purpose? More are coming, and if you insist on becoming something of value to them, I won't be able to protect you this time.>
Varro: <It's too late to go back... in all ways.>
Mekari: <Once word of your gifts reaches them, they will come for you.>
Varro: <Did you think coming to tell me that would win you some sort of admiration from me?>
Mekari: <I tell you because of my love for you.>
Varro: <Of course. How stupid of me to forget that that's always what your purpose is, isn't it?> *he unintentionally rolled his eyes despite the fact she was not in front of him to see it.*
Mekari: <I can try to shelter you, but more and more you make that difficult. Even I cannot say no if they were to take you.>
Varro: <I'm told there comes a time when children grow up, and no longer require their parents.>
Mekari: <Then pray to your god that you will not have need of me. For the day that you do, and I am not there, you will cry for the love I show you.>
Varro: <Well thank you for your concerns, but I think you'll find me far more capable than you suspect, and especially now.>
*No retort came, and he was glad of it. There was much to prepare still, and arguing with her was not upon his list of errands.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn X "Testing the Waters" Chapter 1

*Dancing. Drinking. Lovemaking. Killing. Stealing. Thousands of images he'd waded through, his mind leaping from one being's pleasures to the next, seeking the one scene that he knew would aid them. At last, Varro glowered at the sight of the bound Jaggie. Saber's glee at his accomplishment of grabbing the bardic 'forged had allowed Varro to see that which Saber was celebrating. Varro tried to continue watching, but it was difficult, as the sights frequently tried to revert to other activities in other parts of the world. Feeling the images slipping, he called out to the Avatar again*

Varro: <Is it always this hard to hold gaze on something useful?>
<You've been Augur for a little under a few weeks of your life. It is going to take time to learn to use that which you have been gifted to>
Varro: <Sorry. Time for me to learn the ropes is just not a liberty at the moment... speaking mortally as it were.>
<For starters, you need to relax. Stop trying to see one thing, and come to appriciate as many as you can fathom at once, Augur>
Varro: <There are so many... and the one thing I WANT to see will be lost in it all>
<Because you are trying to watch, not appriciate. Once you appriciate it, it will come readily to you>
Varro: <I don't understand 'appriciate.'>
<Then understand this... that which you see can be of the present and the past. If you do not come to appriciate, then you will have no way of knowing if this thing you 'want to see' is something that is happening now, or something that has already transpired>
Varro: <Ah. Right. I forgot about that. Just tell me what you mean by appriciate>
<What do you think the word means, Augur? You are a musician, so I'll explain it to you in a way you can wrap your mind around.... you're trying to watch, like a detached member of an audience awaiting a show. But you know the joy that one can have in coming to accept the rapture of the song, and letting that song move through you. Letting the art coil around your very being. When you can do that, your skill as Augur will move with you and through you, and you will never know that you had been seperate of it.>
Varro: *he huffed a little in frustration, roughly having an idea of what the Avatar was refering to now. How to accomplish it was another story altogether. He allowed the images to slip from him entirely, and resumed his focus in the world around him. At least he had some news for them* <It's me. I've seen her. Unfortunately I can't tell if what I saw was what is happening now, or what has already come to pass. I'm working on it.>

*The reply he received felt very irritated* <You know I hate when you do this, right?> *Uxor seemed most displeased*
Varro: <Well it's not as if I'm doing it to get under your skin here Ux, I'm trying to help. Would you rather I ran all the way to you and THEN told you what I know, or tell you as soon as I know. This way is much faster, and time is our enemy>
Uxor: <Just... unnerving. Even if what you saw was the past, it gives us something to work off of. Could you see where she was? Who was with her?>
Varro: <It's somewhere with a lot of warforged. Saber is there... the one who was with the Lord of Blades. I saw Ragyr too, which doesn't surprise me too much. Couldn't hear anything that was said though... mostly it was Saber's perspective. I'm still working on getting another angle. She was bound, but she looked alive. I can't get a solid connection to contact her the way I contact you yet though, unfortunately. Which partly makes me worried that what I've seen is done and over with.>
Uxor: <Keep trying. There is all sorts of trouble afoot. It's like the whole town is coming in on us at once>
Varro: <I will. What sorts of trouble?>
Uxor: <Well, if you'd get your head out of that Rainbow Robe for two seconds, you'd know>
Varro: <That's hardly fair>
Uxor: <Nevermind. Just keep on with what you're doing, I'll work on my end. You have a better faster shot at this than anything I can do on foot, so I'll deal with other things in person, alright?>
Varro: <Do me a favor>
Uxor: <What favor is that?>
Varro: <Think happy thoughts.>
Uxor: <I want to be optimistic about this as much as you, but...>
Varro: <No, I'm serious. If you keep a light heart or at least let your mind wander to that which is pleasent to you, I will have an easier time coming to find you if need arises.>
Uxor: <Understood. I'll try.>

*Uxor went to find Liyra, as Liyra and Dal seemed to be very instrumental in keeping an ear to the ground and searching out Jaggie's kidnappers. She related all that Varro told her to Liyra*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn X "Testing the Waters" Chapter 2

----------------Transcript----------------------------

(Contributors:
Merlask: Varro, Uxor, The Avatar
Deriaz: Deriaz and Ragyr
Liyra: Liyra
Clanscorpion: Sorgo, Sho, and Lord of Blades
Jaggie: Jaggie and Saber)

*Ragyr continued walking away, but glanced back once at Jaggie. He grinned to himself, starting to formulate a plan in his head, before facing forward and continuing again*
*Ragyr heard talking, very direct, in his head. It felt familiar somehow, but what he heard was* <RAGYR! The Gods have summoned you!>
*Ragyr froze, and looked around, not recognizing the voice* <Hmph. The gods? Exactly who is this?>
*Red eyes glared from over the head of one 'forged, as Saber shoved passed. He had seen the second in command of Blades army taking too much interest in his prize*
The Voice: <The Gods have no patience for your doubts. You have been summoned to answer a great calling! Accept... or perish.>
*The Avatar spoke to Varro directly, but privately* <That was uncalled for.>
*Varro replied to the Avatar just as privately* <Look, how else was I gonna get him to stop and listen to me?>
Ragyr: *His eyes widened slightly* <Perish? Really? And how do I know this isn't some intricate trick? I've had more than one person talk in my head before.>
Avatar to Varro: <Your gifts are NOT a toy, Augur, use them carefully.>
*Varro glowered at the Avatar's reminder*
Varro to Avatar: <Fine fine, but just trust me when I say that I'll need all the help I can get here.>

Saber: Hoy! Warforged, step away from that scrap. She belongs to Blades. *he called out to Ragyr*

The Voice: <I am the voice that was chosen to speak, so as not to shatter your primative mortal mind. Rejoice in their mercy. Serve their will well, and you will be rewarded.>
Ragyr: *he turned around to Saber* What, me? I've already stepped away. Got a problem with me admiring something of Blades? *he answered the voice* <Hm. Rejoice. Pardon me if I don't but..> *he stopped at the word 'reward'* <Reward? What kind of reward?>
The Voice: <Boundless eternal reward will be yours. Gifts of the highest powers.>
Ragyr: <Hm...> *Ragyr considered this idea for a moment.* <Tempting...>
The Voice: <You have but to answer the questions of the Gods, and you will be blessed by their favors.>
*Varro felt the Avatar speak to him again* <Careful Augur.>
Varro to the Avatar: <I am, I am>
Ragyr: <Questions? Hmph. Simple. Let's hear these questions.>

(Elsewhere)

*Uxor approached Liyra, seeming very urgent in expression*
*Liyra turned to Uxor* What's going on? News bout Jaggie?
*Uxor nodded and wrote* 'Varro's come through for us. He says he's seen her. He's just not sure if what he saw was happening NOW, or if it's something from the past. But it is Saber who is with her. And Ragyr.'
*Liyra frowned* Did you see where they were?
Uxor: 'he said they were in some kind of gathering of warforged. There were a lot of them.'

(Back at the camp)

*Saber walked about Jaggie, then looked at Ragyr again.*
*Varro tried to focus on Saber's pleased thoughts, trying to retrace the steps that lead him to where they were now encamped.*
*Saber's mood was changing now. Jealousy lumped in his throat.*
The Voice: <Ragyr, describe for the Gods what manner of existence you find yourself in at present.>
Ragyr: <Manner of existance? As in...?> *He glared at Saber* Can I help you, by chance? Or you just trying to waste my time? *he grinned.*
The Voice: <Your surroundings.> *Varro meanwhile continued to try and sort through past images of Saber.*
Saber: Admire something else, warforged. That's all I'm saying. Blades said he be here for her, not you.
The Voice: <Explain to the Gods where you are for your current calling in life>
*Varro cringed at his sloppy twisting of the question to Ragyr* Varro to Avatar: <Lil help?>
Avatar to Varro: <None. This is your mess Augur, figure it out.>
Varro to Avatar: <Are all Augur tossed to the air like tiny birds from the nest? To fly or die?>
Avatar to Varro: <What a good idea...>
Varro to Avatar: <No no no, just... learning is all. Frustrated.>
Ragyr: <Hm... where are we... 'bout two leagues, maybe three, from the harbor. On a beach.> *he laughed at Saber* I'll admire what I want, thank you very much. *he grinned again*
The Voice: <What day is it mortal? By your reckoning?>
Ragyr: <What day? What does all this matter, anyway?>
The Voice: <Do not question the will of the Gods, mortal! Their wrath is ever present. Answer that which is asked of you.>
*Ragyr shrugged and related the day* <Yeah, sure, answers. Whatever. Keep on asking then>
The Voice: <What plans have you for the Musical 'forged, known by the mortals as Jaggie Jukebox?>
Ragyr: <For her? Don't quite know yet. Anything to try to get her out of this current situation. I do kind of owe her for practically saving my life.>
The Voice: <Very well. You have answered the questions correctly, and appeased the Gods. They now have a task for you to claim your final reward.>
Ragyr: <A task?> *he seemed to become less amused and slightly frustrated* <You said all I needed to do was answer questions to be rewarded. Not do a task.>
The Voice: <Ungrateful mortal one! To serve the Gods IS a reward, and acting in their service is the highest form of appeasement to them. You have proven yourself, do you not desire your reward by the favor of them granting you the opportunity to serve them, and claim that which is yours?>
Saber: *He grabbed Jaggie about the arm* Up. Blades should be here soon.
Varro to Uxor: <They're outside the harbor. I'm trying to get Ragyr to leave a signal for you to follow. They're on a beach.>
Ragyr: *grinned, though it was to the voice* <Right. A task. Hm... exactly WHAT do you have in mind?>
The Voice: <Very soon, a messenger of the Gods will be coming to deliver unto the mortals tidings. You must create an offering for this messenger...>
Avatar to Varro: <Don't think for a second that I'm going to stick myself down there in your dealings. I cannot save you Augur.>
Varro to Avatar: <Fair enough.>
Ragyr: <An offering? Hmph. Offerings are usually given to gods you believe in, aren't they? And I'm not exactly a faithful one... but I'll bite. What do you want me to do?>
The Voice: <At the base of your surroundings, close to the waters, build a beacon to welcome this messenger. Be it of fire or light, that is up to you. But the more pleasing the beacon, the greater your reward.>
Ragyr: *he blinked in confusion* <Let me get this straight... you want me... to build a beacon... telling you where I am... in the middle of Blades' camp?>
*Mentally Varro stammered a moment for words*
The Voice: <It is not a beacon to YOU... it is a beacon for the messenger. Once this beacon is built, your location is immaterial>
*Varro relayed the information of the beach and the beacon to Uxor, but another vision passed by him. That of Blades. He related more to her* <Uxor... Blades is going to start killing the Fellowship. He's delighting in thinking on it.> *and he flipped back to Ragyr*
The Voice: <Do you not realize that the Gods are aware of where you are already? How else would you be blessed with receiving this task?>

*Uxor related the news to Liyra, who looked at her in disbelief*
Liyra: Does Varro really expect Ragyr to set up a bonfire given where Ragyr is?
*Uxor posed Liyra's question back to Varro*

Ragyr: *he paused, glancing between Jaggie and Saber* <...Alright. Fine. How big is this supposed to be? Just big enough to see?>
*Varro tangled amid images of Blades, Saber, Ragyr, Ragyr's conversation, his attempt at contacting Jaggie still, and Uxor's conversation*
Varro to the Avatar: <HELP!>
Avatar to Varro: <Just...relax Augur.>
The Voice: <Do that which you believe will best please the Gods, mortal. Make an offering worthy of the messenger.>
*Varro's mental tangle left him to send to Uxor next* <Know that your failure will result in your demise!>

*Uxor blinked a moment, then wrote to Liyra* 'Yes, I think that's EXACTLY what he thinks Ragyr is going to do for him.'
*Sorgo walked up to Uxor and Liyra and saluted. He had a shield on one arm, and a mace in hand. He was ready for battle. Sorgo looked grim.*
*Uxor looked to Sorgo and wrote* 'We have a problem, and I'm afraid it's going to take some...fighting.'
Sorgo: Sho told me to protect you... sadly, I saw this coming.
*Uxor nodded and tried to write an explaination of what was going on for Sorgo*

Saber: Bloody worthless 'forged. *Saber growled at Ragyr, then moved Jaggie forward.*
Ragyr: *He grumbled under his breath* Worth of... *he retreated back to his mind* <You're telling me to build something that is worthy of a messenger, no less one I don't believe exists, and that I'm suppose to know how big it's supposed to be?> *Ragyr took a step forward, tugging Jaggie's shoulder, and subsequently, Saber, back. He stared at Jaggie for a second before speaking* I think she's fine here. If anything, I'll bring her to Blades.
The Voice: <Well what offering do you suppose a God deems worthy, mortal known as Ragyr? A tiny torch? A little palm mirror?>
*Ragyr laughed at the voice in his mind* <You still haven't told me what god, exactly, I'm building this for.>
*Jaggie gave out a muffled yelp from her gag, as Saber shoved her forward and away from Ragyr* Saber: You'll not get my reward for her. Find something else to please Lord Blades.
The Voice: <The Gods go by many names mortal. This, however, will be the herlad of those who are of Celebration, of Accomplishments, and of Victory.>
*Ragyr grabbed at the ropes around Jaggie's back, tugging her back again* So you snagged a Forged. Good job. Not exactly worthy of a reward, is it? I've done that and more. *He whispered under his breath to Jaggie* Sorry 'bout that. *Ragyr laughed even louded to the voice in his head* <Celebration? You're kidding, right? What game are you trying to pull? Who am I talking to?>

*Uxor finished relating the situation to Sorgo* '...and now Varro is trying to get us a signal of where they are so we can try to extract Jaggie.'
*Sorgo nodded, understanding everything exactly. He took of his helmet for a moment to wipe his forehead, and for that slight second, Uxor could see what looked like a dragonmark on his face.*
Liyra: *she made a note of the dragonmark, but said nothing, then sighed and asked* Any luck with that beacon?
*Uxor again questioned Varro* <Anything?>
Varro: <Eh... complications, but I'm working on it. Just get yourselves to the harbor and be ready.>
*Uxor wrote* 'He's working on it. But he said we need to get to the harbor to look for the beacon.' *Uxor also noted the mark on Sorgo, and seemed concerned over it... but she likewise did not ask questions of it yet*
*Sorgo starts praying, then waved his hand over Uxor and Liyra, blessing them*
*The sound of static and hissing came to their ears, and a blue Forged and a large metal dog came into Uxor, Liyra, and Sorgo's view. He paused, looking over them* Deriaz: ... Am I interrupting something?
*Uxor looked relieved...and at the same time worried, to see Deriaz. She thrust the pile of notes she'd used to explain to Sorgo into Deriaz's hands now.*
*Deriaz skimmed the noes, but only nodded. He didn't say anything.*
*Sorgo mind connected with Sho* <Sho, where is Blade's camp? Jaggie is in trouble!>
Sho: <What!!? ****! 2 leagues west from the harbor on the beach! GO!>

*Varro glowered at Ragyr's reactions* <Alright, I'll level with you... mortal. Do you want Jaggie out of there alive or not?>
Ragyr: <Mortal. . . hmph. I'm beginning to believe you're nothing more than me. But yes, I want her out of here. She saved my life, I may as well do something to try and save hers.>
Saber: Blades wanted her alive and gave me the task to bring this filthy traitor back, not you. *Saber's hand was firm on the handle of his axe*
Varro: <Help is coming Ragyr, but it needs to know WHERE to go to help, alright?>
*Ragyr glanced down at the handle of the axe, and back up at Saber. He seemed perfectly calm.* And you did it. Good job. You want me to clap? Now, why don't you just let me take care of her?
Ragyr: <Help is coming... hmph. And exactly who is coming? Cause honestly, I'm starting to doubt that a real 'messenger' is coming. Why don't you just come right out and say it?>
Varro: <The Fellowship. They're coming for Jaggie. Thankfully they have me here to tell them that you're NOT one of the ones trying to harm her.>
Ragyr: <Hm... the Fellowship? That's all I needed to know. So you want the beacon on the beach? How big?>
Varro: <Big enough for them to spot from the harbor, so they know where to aim for>
Ragyr: <Big enough...hm...alright. Bit of a problem though>
*Blades exists his tent, and was humming to himself, very pleased with how things were going. This pleasure resonated to Varro's awareness*
Varro to Uxor: <Oh...hell....>
Uxor to Varro: <What??>
Varro to Ragyr: <Figure something out! Blades is coming Ragyr!>
Ragyr: <Blades is what?> *he glanced over his shoulder, spying Blades*
*Blades then stopped, seeing Ragyr, Saber, and...Jaggie.*
Saber: *growled at Ragyr* Lost in thought, 'forged? *he shoved Jaggie back with another hard tug*
Ragyr: *snapped to attention* Lost in thought? Of course. Trying to comprehend how stubborn you are. <Ok. Two problems, I suppose. Look, just give me a minute here, and I'll get you a beacon.>
Varro to Uxor: <Blades is on the move. I don't know if Ragyr can give you your signal in time>
Saber: Huh, whatever, bloody worthless forged. *he turned around, dragging Jaggie behind him. He nearly smacked right into Blades.*
Blades: Saber? Did you bring Jaggie in?
*Ragyr looked between Blades and Saber, like he didn't know what to do.*
*Saber dropped to one knee and threw Jaggie to the ground before him* Yes Lord.
*Jaggie whimpered as she glanced up to the Lord of Blades.*
*Ragyr took a step back, glancing between the beach and the image of Jaggie at the feet of the Lord of Blades.* <Beach... or fight... beach... or fight... Oh, hell.>

*At this bit of information, Uxor grabbed a hold of Sorgo and Liyra, and then used the two of them to usher Deriaz into running...she seemed urgent about them setting off right then*
*Deriaz nodded, remained silent, and was ready to go where taken.*
*Sorgo repeated directions to Uxor, who followed his instructions*
Uxor to Varro: <We can't make it in time if he's that close already. Stall them...>

*Varro grimaced and did the only thing he knew... he reached out to Blades with his mental volley*
The Voice: <LORD OF BLADES! Your great works have attracted the favor of the Gods!>
*Blades punched Jaggie in the face as he herad the voice, thinking she was playing one of her games.*
*Varro grimaced. That wasn't quite the reaction he had in mind.*
Ragyr: *without thinking, Ragyr burst out audibly* Hey! *he clamped his mouth shut instantly*
Jaggie: *though still gagged, she grimaced* murr...pammar...
Blades: YOU!! You betrayed me! *and he hit Jaggie again*
*Varro tried once more.*
The Voice: <LORD OF BLADES!! The favor of the Gods is upon you! Claim what is rightfully yours, and heed to the herald of the Gods.>
*Saber stood and smiled, most pleased with the wonderful treatment of the musicforged*
Blades: <I need no one to tell me I am God, I KNOW I am. I am Lord of BLADES!> *Blades turned to Ragyr* Hey what?
*Ragyr, not knowing if the voice was still there, retreated back to his mind* <How about a flare? You got time for a flare?>
The Voice to Blades: <There are many Gods, Lord of Blades. Each unto their own portfolio. It so happens that your divine works have attracted the attention of ours.>
Blades: <I am greatest of all, now get OUT of my HEAD!>
Ragyr: *he shook his head* Nothing. Was just, um, thinking. And out loud. Yeah. *he thought again* <ANSWER ME! Do you have time for a flare, or am I doing this myself?>
*Oil seeped from Jaggie's brow. The plating that had been poorly repaired after Saber had marked her was breaking from the blows.*
Varro: <Flare would be excellent Ragyr...and eh...just be ready if you see someone in a moment>
Ragyr: <Alright. You got it. You want a flare, look to the sky.> *He shut his eyes, and the runes began to glow slightly on his body.*
The Voice to Blades: <Do not call the wrath of they who regard you in an admirable light, Lord of Blades.>
Blades: <There are no gods, except Lord of Blades. Get out of my head!>

Varro to Uxor: <You said stall them, so I will. Just... get yourselves here fast. I don't know how long I can last doing this.> *he situated the sparkling multi-colored robe, the shield, and scepter. He knew he was going to regret this. He focused hard on the location of Saber, Blades, and Ragyr*
*Uxor hurried her group down to the shores of the Harbor and watched for a signal*

Varro to the Avatar: <No help at all?>
Avatar to Varro: <None Augur. You are about to step out of my domain unfortunately, with what you're thinking about doing.>

*Blades kicked Jaggie hard, throwing her upward*
Jaggie: Ka-um! *when she hit the ground again, light whimpers could be heard and her eye had turned dark. She was lost in herself.*
*Ragyr clamped his eyes shut, and raised one arm to the sky. A red jet of flames rocketed from his hand. At the same time, he raised his other hand in the direction of Blades* Sorry, but the tables have turned. *He pointed a finger at Blades face, and a ray of fire shot forward.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn X "Testing the Waters" Chapter 3

------------Transcript----------------
(Contributors:
Merlask: Varro, Uxor, The Avatar
Deriaz: Deriaz and Ragyr
Liyra: Liyra
Clanscorpion: Sorgo, Sho, and Lord of Blades
Jaggie: Jaggie and Saber)

*Blades ducked, the spell knocking his helmet off only. Blades then tackled Ragyr.*
*Ragyr hit the ground with a grunt. One eye opened, and he grinned at Blades* You're much heavier than you look, you know?
*Blades's spikes dig into Ragyr, and Blades punches Ragyr in the face over and over, spikes digging in*
*Saber jumped back at the sight* I told you he was worthless forged Blades! Just like the bloody scrap here! *his axe was fully unsheathed*
Ragyr: *he growled in pain with each blow* <Not. What. I. Had. Expected. You and that damned --- OW! --- guild had better get here quickly!>
Varro: <They're coming. And I'm coming too. Just you be ready, alright?>
Ragyr: <Be ready? Oh, sure. If I'm not dead by then. You have any idea what I just did?>

*Liyra turned toward what seemed like a blinding flash, and realized it was a jet of flames being shot skyward* There's Ragyr's signal! Varro got him to actually make one.
*Uxor nodded and motioned for them to set off towards it*
*Deriaz nodded, but continued to remain quet. He made one quick hissing and static sound to Spike, and the metal dog growled and followed close behind.*
*Uxor came to the water's edge, and looked for a boat for them to pile into*

Blades: Saber, shut up and ready the army! *he got up, picked up Ragyr, and threw him 50 feet*
Saber: HOY! *the call could be heard from all around. Warforged stopped their tasks and turned quickly. All seeing Blades fighting his second in command, Ragyr.*
*Ragyr landed head first into the ground, and lay motionless for a moment before slowly struggling to get up.*
*Varro closed his eyes, holding the scepter and concentrating on where he desired to go, and the form of the Bard appeared in a blinding, glittering flash, amid Saber and Jaggie. In a voice that was louder than anything, his words reverberated in any mind within earshot* <DIE BEFORE THE WRATH OF THE GODS!> *which was received by friend and foe alike*
*Blades flinched at the noise in his head*
*Ragyr glanced back at the figure of Varro* <Oh, sure, you come as I get thrown. Nice timing.>
*Varro hoped his flamboyant entrance was enough to startle some of them. He knew that it would not, however, slow Blades - other than to cause him to wonder at the loud voice. Blades had seen him before, and such a disguise would not fool him.*
*Blades drew his double bladed sword*
*A yellow glow came from Jaggie's brow. Another whimper could be heard, but then it stopped suddenly and became a growl.*
*Ragyr slowly got to his feet. White energy covered his right hand, which he placed over the holes the spikes had made in him. Slowly, they began to mend. With his free hand, he pointed another finger at Blades, and a ray of frost shot outward.*
*Varro swirled his arms, and a great burst of color errupted all round him, and flashing lights and steady beats came forth, as he brought on the most powerful dancing sphere he could summon.*
*Blades charged...the Juggernaut had started. Frost covered one of Blades enormous spikes*
*Varro stood in the center of the spell. Any who approached would have to contend with the magic.*
*Saber staggered from the shout of Varro, but he still gave out another command* Rush!
*Blades charged with great speed, and jumped, launching himself in the air towards Varro*
*Ragyr glanced between Saber and Jaggie* Mind if I take your little prize? *he rushed forward, knowing full well he wasn't much in a melee fight, but attempted to get past Saber to grab at Jaggie*
*Varro braced and started to sing his hold song, as fast as he could manage without error which ruin the whole attempt at song.*
Saber: Bloody forged! *Saber's axe came swinging for Ragyr's head. Behind them, Jaggie was crawling up to her knees.*
*Ragyr skidded to a hault, and jumped back, trying to get out of the axe swing. The blade still clipped him across the eye. He stumbled back, trying to repair it quickly with his magic.*
Saber: *the axe came swinging again, but left Saber's hand, as a jagged ball of wood and brass colored steel slammed into his back*
*Ragyr blinked in surprise* Wha--? *he shook his head, and grabbed for the axe quickly.*
*Mud splashed up in the air as Saber crashed to the ground* Graah! *Jaggie ripped at the plating on his back*
*Varro finished his song, but his eyes widened as he realized that Blades form was still falling fast upon him. He scrambled to try and tumble out of the way*

*Uxor paddled harder. She had tried to speak with Varro, and did not get a response.*
*Sorgo cast mass haste*

*Ragyr laughed as Jaggie ripped at the plating* Well, glad to see you're willing to fight. *He spun around, grunting as he swung the axe at a nearby forged which was coming up behind him. It was becoming apparently obvious he wasn't good in an actual one on one combat*
*Jaggie glared upa t Ragyr. Oil oozed from her brow and her plating wasn't its normal smoothness. It was becoming sharp and jagged. The bindings around Jaggie's arms began to stretch and snap. She began to charge at Ragyr*
*Ragyr started in amazement at Jaggie's new look, but then ducked as the forged behind him growled and swung. He quickly turned, and planted his palm into the assailant's stomach. The forged became coated with ice. Ragyr' swung the axe, shattering the statue. He then turned to see Jaggie coming at him* Alright, now, let's not get too extreme here. I'm on your side, alright?
Jaggie: Rurtt... *a deep sound rolled up from her chest as she ripped the cloth from her mouth. She'd be on top of him in moments.*

*The boat load of Fellowship came ashore. Most of the warforged were engaged with the commands of Saber and the Lord of Blades. None the less, Uxor motioned for htem all to take caution and stay down. She slinked out of the boat and moved forward, waving for them to proceed*
*Deriaz jumped out of the boat, and Spike followed, both seeming to not want to touch the water. Immediately, Deriaz seemed to scan the fight, looking for someone.*
*Liyra unsheathed her sword and crept forward, obviously trying to keep from rushing right into the battle.*
*Sorgo followed, then fell to his knees, blessing his friends and summoning a giant scorpion*
*Uxor fussed with some goggles for a moment, and her form went dark, and difficult to see.*

*Blades fell to the ground hard, missing Varro barely, but the force from the crash knocked Varro back.*
*With the wind knocked out of him, Varro slid across the ground to the edge of the dancing sphere. Breathless, he couldn't call forth his musical talent in that moment, and he clutched at the graze across his side from Blade's impact. He instead took the opportunity to bring forth a short sword that gleamed with positive energy.*
*Blades got up, standing up in the crater he made, trying hard to resist the spell, dancing only slightly*
*Varro looked past Blades to Ragyr and Jaggie, and reached out mentally, since he couldn't speak* <Ragyr! Come to the lights, get in the sphere!>

*Uxor moved in the darkness towards the camp steadily, watching behind her for her comrades, and ahead of her for signs that she'd been spotted, as she slinked along invisible.*
*A stray arrow flew at Uxor, and Sorgo jumped infront and blocked with his shield*
*Sorgo couldn't see her clearly, but he felt a gentle pat on his shoulder. She pressed on towards the ruckas of light and combat ahead.*

Ragyr: *he took another step back, and flames erupted on his hands. He dropped the axe* Alright, now, Jaggie. Don't take it personally, but I'll defend myself if I have to. *He focused on Varro again* <Bit busy, if you can't tell.>
*Flames or not, Jaggie sent down a flurry of blows to strike at Ragyr.*\
*Ragyr tried to move out of the way, but wasn't quick enough. He fell to the ground at Jaggie's blow, and struggled to get up.*
*With great urge, Blades danced out of the sphere, and stopped, staring at Varro with great anger.*
*Varro quickly resumed trying to get another hold song off. Several of the forged around were caught in the sphere now, or standing and staring aimlessly from his song.*
*Blades ordered his bowmen to line up around the sphere.*

*The group came upon the scene of Jaggie and Ragyr rolling about in fighting, Lord of Blades standing amid it all, and Varro surrounded by a host of Forged caught in his dancing sphere, as well as a pack of forged archers taking aim for him now.*
Sorgo: Let us charge. Let me charge, they need help. Out numbered.
*Sorgo felt another slap on the back. He could presume this was approval. He could already hear Uxor's armor clinking as she went dashing forth.*
*Sorgo charged, calling out to the Flame.*
Liyra: *taking Sorgo's charge into the melee as a go ahead, she ran forward, ducking and weaving through the warforged, to reach Jaggie.*
*Deriaz made another hissing and static sound to Spike. The two sprinted forward, literally throwing themselves onto anyone they could find.*

*Varro weighed his options. If he stopped singing, he could go invisible, but more than likely the archers would still know where to aim... if he finished singing, he could catch those close at hand, but the archers could still strike him. So he turned to the only skills he had left that could be of use... bluffing and intimidation.*
*In his very loud voice, he called forth to the warforged around, his voice sounding as if he were standing right next to them...*
<LET THOSE WHO WISH TO BE THE FIRST TO DIE, BE THE FIRST TO SET ARROW TO THE SKY. I AM THE HERALD OF THE GODS OF REVALRY! YOUR GOD HAS NO DOMAIN UNTO ME. I WILL NOT BE MERCIFUL!>
*Varro's form shimmered, and he held the shield and the scepter in hand, and the shimmering purple robe materialized on him. He held himself up very tall, not even bracing for the volley of arrows, hoping that all of this would cause enough of them to hesitate for him to form a plan. He tried ot maintain a calm presence as he boldly walked directly towards a few of the forged, seeming undaunted by their readied bows.* <FLEE...OR PERISH, MORTALS> *and he walked calmly towards them, gliding practically.*

*Sorgo charged Blades with great anger, and swung his mace at him*
*Blades barely felt it. He grabbed Sorgo's mace, and bent it out of shape, knocking Sorgo back. Then he grabbed the scorpion and ripped it in half.*
*A whirling sand flew up at Blades face, and he felt a tremor in the ground trying to make him lose his footing. He maintained it, but the onslaught of sand served to get in his eyes, blinding his sight. Somewhere amid this whirling sand, he felt the distinctive sting of a blade. It was not as effective at piercing his hide, but he knew that whatever this sand was, was related to his second attacker.*
*Sorgo drew his Silver Flame longsword, and called to the Flame. HIs sword burst into blue flames, bright enough to light the entire camp, and he charged, slicing at warforged around him.*
*Blades punched the ground, sending a shockwave to knock his attacker down.*
*Uxor fell to the ground, but she had at least managed to prevent Blades from seeing what he was doing, hindering his attacks.*

*Ragyr got to one knee, shaking his head in pain. One hand went to his head, holding it in pain.*
Jaggie: Ruuurrtt *Another deep rolling sound, and Jaggie stopped striking Ragyr. Her eye trained on someone else.*
*Deriaz and Spike slowly were making their way towards Ragyr, who had gotten on his hands and knees.*
Ragyr: *He got to his feet after a second, only to be met with the blade of another forged, cutting into him.*
*Liyra ran over to Jaggie's side, standing to face Ragyr. Without saying anything, she tried to hand the shield back to Jaggie.*
Jaggie: Flaame *the blue flame of the sword marked her new target. She didn't take the shield, didn't even look at Liyra... she ran at Sorgo.*

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 4, cont.
Inside the Mind of a Killer


Ragyr ran through the doors of the Phoenix during the night, almost in a panic. The disguise of Bolt had been completed, but something in the back of his head told him it wasn’t going to last long.

He ran past the first bar, but skidded to a halt as he saw the figure of Jaggie passing in front of him. He jumped to the left, hiding behind the wooden pole that stood in the doorway. Carefully, he looked around the pole to see if she had noticed him. Ragyr guessed she hadn’t, because she continued to the bar. She proceeded to scribble something out to Cog.

As quietly as he could, he slipped around the pole, and made his way to the left. He headed up the wooden ramp quickly, and took a quick left around to the overhanging platform on the top level. He saw Deriaz there, and dared to give a sigh of relief. He didn’t want anyone knowing he was there.

Deriaz’s eyes lit up, and he nodded. “Hullo s—mmf?” he started, but Ragyr had jumped on Deriaz, clamping his mouth shut.

“Shut up, alright? Don’t say a word. If you do, I swear. . .” he whispered. He let the message set in, and removed his hand after a moment. “Now then. . . For the love of Blades, how are you moving and talking? I left you here, and you wouldn’t respond to a damned thing.”

Deriaz mouthed the word ‘Ragyr?’ and Ragyr nodded. Deriaz’s eyes lit up in surprise, and he looked Ragyr up and down, studying him carefully.

Ragyr sighed again. “What happened to you. . .? Let’s see here. . .” He looked around Deriaz, and grinned at the sight of Jaggie still writing something to Cog. He turned back to Deriaz. “Alright, let’s make this quick. I’ve never done this before, so. . . Um. . . Here goes nothing, right?” His hands began to glow white, and the runes around his body also began to glow a dark purple.

Deriaz’s eyes widened, and he tried to yell something. He only got out a loud yelp before Ragyr had clamped Deriaz’s mouth shut again. Ragyr crouched behind Deriaz for a moment, thankful for the blue Forged’s new size. He waited a few seconds, and then looked to Deriaz. “Would you shut up!? I’m just gonna dig around in your head. Maybe I can solve this without getting anyone else involved. . .” he looked around Deriaz again to Jaggie, and growled to himself. “Though I’m thinking it’s a bit late for that. . . Anyway, I’ve never done this, and I just made the spell up myself, so. . . Um. . . Here’s to not making it worse, right?”

Ragyr put his hands on Deriaz’s head, and closed his eyes. Grey clouds came into his vision, and they seemed to go on endlessly. After a moment, a large snake came into view. It’s mouth opened, and it lunged forward at Ragyr. Ragyr let go of Deriaz’s head immediately, and let out a yelp of surprise himself. He covered his mouth, and waited a few seconds. “Why did he have to like snakes, of all things?” Ragyr mumbled, and moved forward again.

The clouds came into his vision again, and eventually the snake lunged again. Ragyr braced himself, and the snake felt as if it passed right through him. A moment later, he was standing on what looked like a small site of a ruined temple. The squares were terribly cracked, and some of the rivers between the squares had small snakes running through them. It also looked as if a very large portion of the floor had been cracked to its demise. In the far corner, the floor looked ready to crumble away, off into the darkness below. Ragyr assumed it had happened recently, considering how one of the corners was missing a massive chunk of stone.

Serpent and Deriaz were on the other side of the ruins. Serpent had his back turned to Ragyr, but started laughing almost as soon as Ragyr glanced their way. “Didn’t think you’d get past the little snake trip. Thought you hated snakes, Blaze? Hm?” He turned around to face Ragyr, and cackled.

Ragyr growled. “Don’t call me that. . .” He quickly regained his composure. “Besides. . . It’s just an illusion. It’s not a real snake.”

Serpent sighed. “You’ve always been a stubborn one, haven’t you? Always getting what you want, no matter what gets in your way. . . I wasn’t expecting a visit from you until later.”

“Later? What do you mean by later?”

“Later as in a few days, obviously,” Serpent laughed, and pointed at the chain on the ground. This one led from the back of Serpent’s head, towards Ragyr. It wrapped up around his body, up into the back of Ragyr’s head as well. Ragyr cursed under his breath, for not seeing it before. He glanced over at Deriaz, who also had a chain leading from the back of his head towards Ragyr, except Deriaz had a mask over his face as well.

“Y’know, I don’t know why you don’t like that Jaggie character much,” Serpent grinned. “She’s so helpful.”

Ragyr’s mouth dropped open slightly. “What? What are you talking about? What did that little. . . What did she do!?”

Serpent pointed at the corner of the ruins that looked to have crumbled away. “It’s so simple to cut away memories from the little mistake here,” he kicked Deriaz in the side and the ground cracked a little more, “when she has him recall them. What progress I’ve made! That corner over there? All those memories would have taken so long to get rid of. Maybe five days? But she helped me get rid of them in the course of a few hours! I think I like her. Unfortunately, I think she caught on. She didn’t seem to want Deriaz to remember anything else. . .”

Ragyr stomped a foot on the ground in anger. “Why are you here anyway!? What do you want with Deriaz?”

Serpent looked confused. “I thought you hated the little guy here?” Deriaz tried to say something, but the chains and masks were restricting him so much that it only came out in a muffle.

“I don’t. . . I mean, I do, but. . .” Ragyr mumbled.

“What’s that?” Serpent put a hand to the side of his head, mocking someone trying to listen better.

“I said I don’t!”

“Then why do you defend him?”

“Because I. . . Um. . .” Ragyr shrugged. “Just get out. Now.”

Serpent raised his right arm. The armplate hooked itself off, revealing the word ‘ExPeriMent’ etched in his right arm, similar to Deriaz’s own. The capital letters began to glow, and the arm and hand morphed into a large blade. He pointed both blades at Ragyr, who cursed again for not noticing the first blade. “I think you’re the one that should be getting out.”

Ragyr snapped his fingers, and a staff appeared in his hands. “Make me,” he grinned.

Serpent cackled. “I don’t have to! Just look at your feet!” he motioned down to Ragyr’s feet. Ragyr looked down, and cursed a third time—Though audibly this time—at the small snakes that had slithered out of the water and had started to curl around his feet. Ragyr yelped, and jumped away. The look on his face was a sheer terror at the snakes.

Serpent cackled wildly at the display as Ragyr released the spell, and disappeared out of Deriaz’s mind. The chains that led to Ragyr slid across the floor on their own, and fell over into the darkness beyond the floor. “Your brother sure is a comedian, isn’t he? So glad I became better than him,” he sighed, and turned back to Deriaz. “Now, then, where were we? . . . Ah, right, removal of the memories. Hold still,” he cackled, and slowly came at Deriaz with the blades.

Outside, Ragyr recoiled back away from Deriaz. He stared wide-eyed at Deriaz, who only stared back like a naïve child. Ragyr cursed a fourth time, and then a fifth at the sound of someone coming up a wooden ramp. He saw Jaggie turn around the stone pillar, and Ragyr dove behind Deriaz. Carefully, he leapt off the wooden platform to the ground below. He tumbled as he hit the ground, and sprinted out of the Phoenix.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 4 cont. Part III
Inside the Mind of a Killer

((The following is a transcript, and a very long one at that. It will be written in story-form. Participants included:

Deriaz / Jaggie / Morrandir / Juryrig / Derbolts / Lynde. Big thanks to participants! Sorry to those who wanted to join, but could not!))


Deriaz went over the events of the past nights in his head. Everything had happened so fast. . . It was hard for him to get all the details. But he tried his hardest as he sat in the Phoenix, trying to get himself together.


= = =

The five had entered his mind. Derbolts, Lynde, Juryrig, Morrandir, and Jaggie had all rushed in, without even fully knowing what they were getting into. He respected that, but continued on with trying to remember the events of the night.

Clouds had met them first. Dark, gray ones. Juryrig looked at the group, having the advantage of having been in Deriaz’s mind only a few hours before. “Be prepared. The snake is but an illusion. Fear not.” Baldes snapped out of his forearms. Long, adamantine ones.

“Hn,” Derbolts nodded. “Snake isn’t real.”

Two large, glowing eyes greeted them after a few moments. The eyes were connected to the image of a massive snake. It hissed, and lunged at the group, trying to scare them back out of Deriaz’s mind. Juryrig ignored the threat, and walked through the snake.

Derbolts whimpered, and muttered to himself, “Not real, right. Not real.” He followed Juryrig. Morrandir followed closely behind, and slashed a bit at the snake.

“Geh. . .” Jaggie lifted her shield, and tumbled to the side away from it. Lynde followed closely behind her.

The snake hissed again in frustration, seeing that it’s attempt had failed. It dissipated after a moment, along with the clouds. Ruins came to their feet to meet them. The stone floor was horribly cracked, and parts had even crumbled away. A larger portion than before. Deriaz sighed at how much he had actually lost, but thanked the fact he had someone gotten it back. He continued with remembering. In between the stone squares, the rivers of water still flowed, but more snakes had entered into them.

Off in the distance, someone yelped. Far away from the five Forged, there was Deriaz, being skewered by Serpent’s dual bladed arms.

Juryrig was the first to react. “Drop Forgebrother Deriaz, Ssserpent!” he yelled.

Morrandir looked confused for a moment. “Hold on,” he said. “Was that me, being stabbed by. . . You?” He pointed at Juryrig.

Serpent froze, and whirled around to face the group. Deriaz remembered the feeling of anger that seemed to pulse through the chain that connected the two. “You again?” he yelled back at Juryrig. “What do you want thisss time!?”

Juryrig pointed at Serpent. Immediately, Lynde set off at him. She looked ready to body check the Forged in an attempt to get him away from Deriaz. Morrandir muttered to himself, “ ‘Parently not.”

Serpent scanned the group quickly. “Wait a sssec, here. . . How many did you bring thisss time, black one?” he hissed. His eyes widened as Lynde drew closer in the charge.

Derbolts drew a Bastard Sword. “The bladed one. . . Is Serphent?” he asked. Juryrig lashed out next, firing a bolt of psionic energy at Serpent. Morrandir slung his shield on his back, and unsheathed a massive greatsword.

Serpent recoiled back from the bolt, and wrapped a bladed around around Deriaz’s neck. “Back off!” he growled. “I’m ssserious!”

“You aim to choke a Forged!?” Lynde laughed, and checked the bladed Forged to the ground.

“Hn. . . Don’t hurt Real Deriaz,” Derbolts said, and ran toward the group near Serpent. Jaggie looked about at the group stunned. She looked to the chains, then, and seemed to be trying to make sense of the chaos that was occurring before her eyes.

Juryrig yelled, “Cut the chains!” He raced forward, following the others.

“Cut the right one, then, this time!” Deriaz yelled to Juryrig. Deriaz chuckled to himself as the memory ran through his mind. Juryrig had ended up stabbing him, whether intentional or not, the first time he had entered his mind.

Derbolts stopped in front of the chains. He raised his sword into the air. “Which part? Which is right!?”

“The h—“ Deriaz started, but Serpent clamped his mouth shut. A tug-of-war started between Lynde and Serpent as the two tugged to get control of the blue Forged. Jaggie began chirping, trying to aid her music to the fight. The chaos seemed to prevent the effect from happening. She sighed.

Juryrig landed a long blade deep into the chest of Serpent, and then grabbed him close with his other hand. Serpent growled as he was cut into, and he lost his grip on Deriaz. “You don’t know what you’re doing!” he yelled at the five.

“Grab Deriaz and run!” Juryrig ordered the others. Lynde moved forward, though, and used the chance to put both of Serpent’s arms behind his back in a double arm bar.

Morrandir spoke up next. “Say the word, and I’ll cut the chains!”

Derbolts looked at the chains again. “Hn. . . Which part is right? One has to be right, Juryrig, which one?” Jaggie continued chirping, but her spell’s effect still seemed to have no effect amid the chaos.

Juryrig kept his grip on Serpent, and shrugged. “I don’t know. . .”

Morrandir growled, “Just cut them all, then!”

Deriaz spoke up again, raising his voice to be heard. “Cutting them all won’t do anything! Go for the one behind his head! It’s you best bet!” He chuckled. “I hope?” Deriaz smirked as that memory ran through his head. It was a wild guess, and a long shot, at that. Juryrig had seen how the chains had regenerated when he cut the ones around Deriaz.

Morrandir nodded. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot!” He heaved the sword onto his shoulder, and charged towards Serpent. Derbolts seemed intent on the same target, and followed suit. Lynde grabbed the chain on the back of Serpent’s head and snapped it taut for the two.

Serpent hissed again. “You foolsss don’t know what you’re doing! Thisss isssn’t—“ he started, but jerked back as the chain went taut. There were two back there, the group discovered. One led to Deriaz, and the other went over the side of the platform. Both Derbolts and Morrandir brought their swords down on the links, but they only clinked at the connected. It looked as if it needed more than just normal steel to break.

“That one wasn’t right?” Derbolts looked confused.

Jaggie stopped chirping. “The other link!” She pointed at the second link to the right that went into the back of Serpent’s head. Juryrig seemed impatient, and pushed with all his might against Serpent. The two plummeted off the platform into the darkness. Deriaz ended up being an anchor, and the chain became taut as the two hung over the edge. Lynde, however, severed the chain at the same time they pushed away, but didn’t hit the end next to Serpent’s head. . Serpent reacted quickly, and clamped his jaw onto the end of the chain as they fell. They were suspended only by Serpent’s sheer jaw strength on the chain. He hissed something to Juryrig, but it wasn’t able to be made out.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 4, Part IV
Inside the Mind of a Killer


Lynde reacted as fast as she could. She grabbed the chains, and pulled back hard to stop they’re fall. Jaggie didn’t make any move. She seemed overwhelmed by the Warforged and the flailing blades. Deriaz didn’t blame her. From his end, even though he had been in the chains, it was a bit much to take it, and it all happened so quickly.

Juryrig cut the chains around Serpent’s head, trying to sever the connection himself. He yelled up at the others, “Drop the chain! It grows BACK!” The chain began to deteriorate, though, at the disconnection. A few of the chains around Deriaz began to deteriorate as well, but not all of them. The connection on the right of the back of his head seemed fine.

Lynde slammed her elbow into Serpent’s face as the two came up, knocking him backwards. Juryrig thrust the forearmed blade up through the chin of Serpent at the same time. It came out of the top of his head. Serpent went limp instantly, and Juryrig grabbed into the chain to hold on. Deriaz continued struggling in the chains. Jaggie made a move, and moved over to Deriaz to help him. Morrandir was already there, helping him get out.

“Still connected to. . . Something?” Deriaz muttered. The right connection was still there. It wrapped around him a few times, and then went over the edge into the black.

“Jag, we have a problem,” Morrandir stated as Jaggie approached. “He’s still connected over here. . .” Lynde pulled out her adamantine falchion, and brought it down on the chain. Derbolts came over as well, and started trying to cut away at the chains. Deriaz let out a growl of pain as Serpent’s deteriorating chain started at the connection to Deriaz’s head.

“Connected to what?” Jaggie asked.

“Cut the chains, and they grow back!” Juryrig yelled up. He was still hanging onto the chain. He was right, too. The chain severed, but grew back easily. They seemed more stubborn than the first ones.

Deriaz shook his head. “As long as the ones connected to Serpent are gone, forget about these ones. Maybe they need to be severed on the other end?” The group looked around, trying to find where the chain went.

“I can’t see where that chain is going,” Morrandir muttered.

“Other end? . . . At Serpent? He went over, into the dark. . .” Derbolts muttered as well. Deriaz started to say something, but screamed in pain when the second chain finished reconnecting.

“Ah, this is taking too long!” Morrandir growled. He sat down, and began to chant. The greatsword began to glow as it was blessed. After a moment, he got up and swung at the connection again as the others hurried to tug up Juryrig. Deriaz screamed in pain again, but the chains did not grow back.

Deriaz motioned the ones around him to the one’s at the edge of the platform. “Go help Jaggie. Get Juryrig back up here.” Derbolts and Morrandir nodded, and ran to help Jaggie, who looked as if she was starting to lose her grip.

As the group pulled with Jaggie, Deriaz watched the end of the second chain erupt in a small ball of fire. It moved slowly on its trail, like a wick on a firecracker. He shrugged after a moment, and then ran to help the others.

Morrandir’s feet slipped after a moment, but Derbolts and Deriaz grabbed at him and pulled him back. Deriaz sighed. “That’s the last thing I need, is more than one casualty in my own mind.”

“Blasted stone,” Morrandir muttered, and continued tugging. A moment later, both Juryrig and Serpent’s body came over the edge of the platform. Immediately, Lynde kicked the corpse back over the edge.

Deriaz frowned as the corpse went out of view and Morrandir stated he was going to find any more lurking personalities. “Well, I can’t say I’m not happy that’s over.”

The group came to an agreement to get Juryrig out of Deriaz’s mind and to safety, until Morrandir brought up a good question. Deriaz couldn’t help but laugh at the way it was stated as the memory came back to him. “Wait,” Morrandir paused, “How DO we get out of here?”

“I could. . . Make. . . A door, maybe?” Deriaz laughed. “I don’t know exactly. . .”

Derbolts pointed at the clouds on the far end. “The clouds. . . Can we walk back through them?”

Jaggie muttered, “Der, you better wake up and be yourself after this. . .”

The group took the chance and walked through the mist back out. Deriaz grinned as the memory of Morrandir tripping over a stone while they left came to him. Deriaz turned to Jaggie. “I’ll see what I can do about being normal, k?” he said with a grin.

“Normal? You’re not normal, Deriaz. Just be you. . .” she sighed. Derbolts seemed satisfied, and he ran to catch up with the leaving party. Jaggie looked around. “Um. . .”

Deriaz knew what she meant. The damage. The stone was already mending itself, however, and the floor was appearing again. “Quite a bit of damage, eh? Should be fine, though. . .”

“So. . .” Jaggie looked up at him. “Do you remember anything now?”

“Hm. . . Remember stuff. . .” He nodded. “Sure. I remember lots of stuff now.”

“Do you mind me testing that?”

“Testing? Um. . .” Deriaz hesitated. “Sure. . .”

“Who’s Liyra?” Jaggie asked.

“Little red-headed Halfling Bard. She’s kind of a fan of Zoltando, or it seems at least.”

Jaggie seemed content with the answer. “Good. Who is Uxor?”

Deriaz couldn’t help but laugh at that question. “Why wouldn’t I know Uxor? Ambassador of the Fellowship of the Golden Night. Seems fond of Varro. Mute. I went into House Deneith with her.”

Jaggie grinned. “And who is gonna help me clean up a mess left behind by a silly metal dog?”

Deriaz blinked. “Wait. . . Mess? What mess? What did Spike do?”

Jaggie chuckled. “. . . Very good. . . See you on the other side, friend.” Deriaz watched as she made her way to the clouds, and left his mind. For the first time, Deriaz was alone in his mind.


= = =

And he still was. Everything was back to normal. Except for the things that Serpent had left behind. He was still seven feet tall, he had weighed himself to be exactly 1100 pounds, the hissing slipped in a few times, and he had the strange ability to be able to morph his hands and forearms into blades, like Serpent.

He shrugged, and relaxed in the Phoenix. He didn’t want to move, due to his new weight. It felt as if five tons of rocks were on him, pushing him down. If it was three, he knew he’d be able to move. But five was a bit much. He shrugged again, and leaned against the stone wall, enjoying the rare silence of his own mind.

[Music_Man]

The Merry Prankster, The Saga of Killbot, Chapter 2: Coming of Age

Killbot sat alone as he usually did, though it was only a short while since Twiggy had gathered his things and took the Eye of Kol Korran back to Stormreach. Before he had left, Twiggy left Killbot with two new light maces. Sir Roundstump had warned Killbot, though, very explicitly to use extra caution when handling these two weapons. He set them down next to the two cupcakes given to him by Jaggie Jukebox, which he always kept with him -- a reminder of heart & the path he chose. (While Killbot is quite attracted to Ms. Jukebox, the cupcakes represent a more intangible ideal of duty with moral implications than a symbol of affection.)

After the kidnapping of Jaggie Jukebox and the fiasco Killbot created, Axyl had pulled some strings to have Killbot pardoned from his execution sentence and granted a diplomatic immunity of sorts. Since then Killbot had been laying relatively low; mostly he was training the art of two weapon fighting from his first friend & master trainer Twiggy Roudstump, who happened to be the master bowman who taught Axyl the art of archery (but that’s a different story all together).

Twiggy was quite amazed at Killbot’s progress & even more please that Killbot had taken a keen liking to piercing weapons, just the same as he. In his adventuring days, Twiggy had accumulated a vast arsenal of weapons he worked with, but now in his prolonged hiatus (& and assumed retirement) he had no use for most of them. (The lassie Halflings admired his skills, but they were of the class types that didn’t want to be around sharp of pointy things).

The two weapons in Killbot's hands sent a strange, sensation through his body when he grasped the mace heads. It was very unusual to the barbarian; if it were intensified it might register as pain – then again, maybe not. But the fact remained, in honor of Killbot’s mastery of two weapon fighting – the precision of form and wile of improvised juxtaposition – Twiggy had granted Killbot two of his most priced weapons, Adoryn’s Malice & A shock greater construct bane light mace. When he presented the weapons to Killbot, Twiggy stated he would never have given them to Killbot if the warforge’s skill was not so great that he didn't need to worry about nicking himself with the weapons. In honesty, Twiggy was convinced the warforged was much better at the TWF art then he could ever be – construct learning he called it; one of the reasons Twiggy liked warforge so much, and especially Killbot.

Killbot wasn’t disturbed by the weapons, and relished at the idea if he had them during the battles of his past. And thus his mind wandered to a place no one else knew, and only Axyl could understand due to the referential nature of Killbot’s past that occurred somewhere other than Xendrik…

[Music_Man]

The Merry Pranksters, The Saga of Killbot, Chapter 3: Triumph?

Looking out over Gianthold, Killbot caressed the docent in his hands. It had been a gift to him from Jaggie Jukebox, he had received it in the mail only earlier that day with her blessings for him & his companions. Killbot was quite proud of his recent triumph, he had just lead a group of companions through a battle to save Xendrik.

Killbot believed that triumph was aided by the well timed gift form Jaggie. Recently, Axyl decided he had no use for the relics he had been collecting, and gave them all to Killbot. There had been a surplus of dragon relics, which Axyl said was the result of “loot running.” Killbot didn’t understand what Axyl meant, but he assumed it had something to do with his inexplicable compulsion to fight the same battles and repeat the same objectives… Killbot was quite confused on that whole topic of habitual heroism, though Axyl had a very interesting, and radical theory on all of that. The fact, Axyl was widely viewed as psychotic elf with mass delusions and hallucinations (to certain circles of Stormreach, mostly those in the healthcare industry but the rumor had spread) didn’t help Killbot’s situation, however, Axyl seemed to always be right about things – unless, he wanted to be wrong.

Regardless, Killbot jumped on the chance to take the relics & acquired a group of able bodied companions to conquer Gianthold Tor. Afterall, now that he had come of age he needed to do something to be remembered for, or atleast that is what Axyl had relayed to Killbot in regards to Barbarian Tradation (Killbot being alien to Xendrik didn't know too much about tradition, and looked to Axyl for answers to many things). After slaying the gatekeeper and dragons within, he bathed in the dragon’s blood and after finding a few more individuals – who as Axyl was quick to point out, somehow wore the dragons' blood despite being absent when Killbot slew them -- entered the inner-sanctum .

The blood-phenomena perplexed the warforge immensely, but not so much as it would have since Axyl had also provided Killbot with a book to promote clear though, which interestingly enough made the barbarian feel smarter and allowed him to learn more skills.

Killbot was aware of the huge threat Stormreaver posed to Xendrik’s future & wanted so greatly to be among the hero’s immortalized for thwarting the giant’s destructive plans & saving the world. Before he lead the charge to engage the gaint, Killbot made sure to kiss Jaggie’s Good Luck docent and then equip it.

The battle was mostly a blur in Killbot’s mind, quite unusual for the warforge who was known notoriously for his ability to remember every move he made in combat, every attack he made & every attack he dodged and absorbed. He assumed it had something to do with the large amount of electricity being emitted by the Stormreaver and his device.

At one point, Killbot began flying and was instructed to find a lever in the ceiling to the west, which he did with ease – though the spikes around were quite interesting, he knew not to touch them.

Shortly after the lever was pulled, his party disabled the device and Killbot was allowed to rejoin his companions. The announcement was made to all the world, that Killbot and his companions had saved Xendrik.

Killbot was ecstatic about his triumph & couldn’t wait to share the news with Axyl, whom Killbot greatly respected & took orders from (at will).

Much to his disappointment, Axyl was not overly impressed. Axyl was very supportive of his big friend, but he also mentioned it wasn’t the first time Xendrik had been saved & the Stormreaver thwarted, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. Though, that was why most folk consider Axyl to have a screw or two loose.

At that moment as Killbot sat overlooking Gianthold, which was interestingly enough unchanged, he had a brief intrusive flash of information – the kind Axyl described schizophrenics to have, or so Killbot assumed. It was announcing someone else had saved Xendrik and thwarted the Stormreaver.

Killbot was dumbfounded.
His triumph reduced to “Sisyphusian Struggle” (as Axyl put it).

And now, all he could do was wonder…
& try to remember his past, before he reached Stormreach.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn X "Testing the Waters" Chapter 4

------------Transcript----------------
(Contributors:
Merlask: Varro, Uxor, The Avatar
Deriaz: Deriaz and Ragyr
Liyra: Liyra
Clanscorpion: Sorgo, Sho, and Lord of Blades
Jaggie: Jaggie and Saber)

*The forged who had attacked Ragyr lifted his arm to attack again, but it's eyes went black suddenly as Deriaz stabbed through its chest. Ragyr looked confused as Deriaz ran by him, seeming focused on Jaggie*
Ragyr: What, not even a thank you for the whole beacon thing??
*Sorgo turned in Jaggie's direction, noticing her, and noticing that she was charging him, but it was too late, so he tightened to be hit*
*Blades, not caring if it was his own or not, grabbed his two-handed sword again and started twisting. He was doing a whirlwind... everyone was his target.*
Jaggie: Ruuurrtt! *she leaped at the Flame Knight Sorgo, hands outstretched*
*Uxor staggered up only to be met by the whirling weapon of Blades. It gashed her across the midrift, laying open a portion of her plating. She in turn resumed her onslaught with the Sirroco in hand, and again the sand and tremors met Blades to try and cast him to the ground as well.*
*Deriaz raised his shield in time to block the attack, though it knocked him back a few feet towards Ragyr, who was slowly fixing himself.*
*Sorgo took the hit, his breath knocked out, shield bent, but the sword still in his hand. He swung the best he could at Jaggie.*

*Saber shook the mud from his eyes as he regained consciousness. Warforged ran past him.*
*Ragyr sighed, and glared at Saber. He grinned as he felt the axe next to him.*
Ragyr: Hey, you! *he pointed at Saber* You and I still have a score to settle, don't we?

*Uxor tried to keep Blades occupied on her, now that she was fully visible. It was hard not to miss her in her glowing white skin, and bright gleaming armor, even in the mere moonlight. The blood that welled up in her mouth, she spat into Blade's face, and it was as cold as the harbor waters.*

*As Varro moved through the dancing sphere, which he knew was drawing to a close, he focused everything he had on making himself disappear for the time being, still hoping that his charade had frightened enough forged out of setting lose arrow into him. Once out of sight, Varro resumed trying to get his melody out to ensure those round him went to idle standing*

Sorgo: Sorry, only to get you off *he barely breathed out*
*Deriaz moved forward, trying to get a hold of Jaggie, and not caring if he got himself cut on her spikey plating.*
Deriaz: Jaggie, we've gotta get you out of here!
*Liyra threw the shield to the ground, and made her way toward Jaggie and Sorgo, hypnotizing as many warforged as she could on her way.*
Jaggie: Ruuurrrt *her fist smashed at Deriaz's chin*
*Deriaz took a step backward, looking stunned. He shook his head, and looked to Jaggie again* Deriaz: What are you doing? Are you insane? We've got to get out of here!
Jaggie: Ruuut..... Flaaaaaame. *her head tilted at the amulet about Deriaz's neck, and suddenly Sorgo was no longer her target.*
*Sorgo crawled out from Jaggie in pain, dropping his shield.*
*Deriaz looked confused* Deriaz: Flame? What are you talking about. *he glanced down at the necklace* You mean this thing?

*So long as she could, Uxor continued to bring forth the sands via the magic of the sword to daunt Blades vision. Her blows did not cut deeply, but they were an immediate deterant.*
*Blades swung everywhere with great strength, trying to clear his eyes again*
*The benefit of still being upon her feet and having her sight proved helpful to Uxor in avoiding many of his blows, but not all of them.*

*Sorgo had no choice. He said a little prayer and then stabbed his sword through Jaggie's shoulder, then pulled it back out. With the flat side of his blade, he hit her hard in the head, trying to knock Jaggie out*
*Jaggie clamped onto Deriaz's shoulder. Sharp, jagged fingers were digging into the plating there. Then the blade went through her* Jaggie: Gaaah!
Liyra: Sorry Jag... *she waved her hands and let out a volley of sleep spells on Jaggie.*
*Deriaz growled in pain, but his eyes widened at Sorgo's attacks.* What are you doing!? *without thinking, he swung his fist not at Jaggie, but at Sorgo*
Jaggie: Ruuurrr *she let go of Deriaz and slumped from the blow to the head*
*Sorgo fell again, nose and jaw broken from Deriaz's strike.*

*The sound of music started to waft down to them. Blades recognized it. Saber did too. As did Der and Ragyr. And Uxor. All of them felt a sensation of stillness overcoming them. Uxor grimaced as she heard the song... she too felt it overcoming her. Apparently, the song was aimed at friend and foe alike*
Saber: Yes, 'forged we do have- *the song filled his head*
*Sorgo stood up, only to not hear the song...he could NOT hear at all... all was silent to him.*
*Blades slowed and slowed then stopped as music hit his head fully*
*Uxor froze in mid swing on Blades.*
*Deria and Ragyr both stopped, as Spike clattered to the ground. He had been in mid leap of an attack.*
*Blades felt more magic coming upon him, trying to twist round his consciousness. Dance. The urge to dance.*
*Blades danced a little, trying to resist, but still he danced.*
*Another burst of the swirling dancing light errupted around all of them. Blades was the center of it.*
*Sorgo looked around, wondering why everyone had stopped.*
*Varro's voice came to Sorgo, near at hand* Don't move friend, else you'll unravel my work.
*Varro moved for Uxor, slapping her hard across the face to snap her out of the daze of music. Uxor had never been so releaved to be struck before. She assessed what forms were where and who was attacking what. Varro put a hand on her shoulder, and her form wavered in a haze as he cast displacement on her.*
*Sorgo was dazed, confused, and stuff appeared flickering in his vision* What's going on? *Sorgo tried to ask quietly, but ended up yelling.*
*Uxor wasn't entirely certain of what was taking place among Jaggie, Der, Liyra, and Sorgo, so she pulled out a great sword from her belongings, and set to attacking, with great force, the Lord of Blades, who was dancing.*
Varro: *he tried to speak to Sorgo, but he was still not aware that Sorgo couldn't hear*
*Saber was dazed, still partially lying in the dirt*
*Meanwhile, Sorgo saw Varro eyeing the others. He knew nothing else he could do for them, so he looked to the warforged Saber in the dirt. Saber heard a very soothing voice say* Stand up friend. You and I have work to do... *and Saber felt as if he'd known Varro for many years, and they were as close as kin.*

[Merlask]

REVISED (and ignore what Robi quoted me on below this) as of August 1st, all stories in the anthology - even with the most recently updated content - are eligible for nominations in the SIRies

[Robi3.0]

Thank you Merlask I was really going to do that just didn't get to it yesterday.

Also on that note all ineligible stories will not be add to the index until after the contest. I am doing this to keep things simple so not to confusing anything especially myself.




I will be nice for Robi3.0 and state that all posts AFTER this one are not eligible for consideration in the Siries Awards. Deadline was yesterday. Still feel free to continue to post your stories here on the anthology, but in terms of what folks should be using for consideration, it is the posts that occur before this one.

[Deriaz]

*Another reminder, that stories after Merlask's story segment titled Fellowship of the Golden Night, The Ambassadors,Volumn X "Testing the Waters" Chapter 4 are NOT eligible for the Award Show. So, please, these are just for enjoyment. Do not vote for them, please.*


The Brothers Forged
Chapter 5
Jealousy



*The following is another transcript. Thanks to Jaggie, for helping out.*

Ragyr had given a message to Jaggie, telling Deriaz to come to the dock in the Harbor. If it wasn’t suspicious enough, Ragyr told Jaggie to tell Deriaz not to come armed. Feeling uneasy and even though her emotions were on overdrive, Jaggie accompanied Deriaz to the dock, where she spied under the dock by looking through the cracks. . .

- - -

Ragyr stood at the end of the dock, staring out across the water. His thoughts raced through his head. <Make him feel comfortable, chat for a bit. Pin him down, get his head, done. . . Make him feel comfortable, chat for a bit. Pin him down, get. . .> He glanced up, and turned around at the sound of Deriaz’s footsteps approaching. “Deriaz. . .” he grinned, but the grin faded quickly at the sight of the five swords and the tower shield. <Maybe not as easy as I had hoped. . .> “I thought I told my little messenger no weapons?”

Deriaz shrugged. “You’ve got your own, so why can’t I bring mine?” He pointed at the long dagger at Ragyr’s side. Ragyr laughed. <Great, so much for talking. . .> Deriaz thought.

“What, this? Oh, no, this is nothing. . . Nothing. . .” he laughed again. “So. . . What’s this I hear about a wedding, hm?”

Deriaz laughed. “You heard correctly. A wedding. That’s all. Between me and Jaggie.” <Please be getting this, Jaggie,> he thought, remembering Jaggie still beneath the two in the water. “Why? Isss that a problem?”

Ragyr’s eyes narrowed, and he growled. “Cut the hissing,” he snapped. “And yes, it is. How did you pull it off, hm?”

Deriaz tensed very slightly as Jaggie shifted herself below the water to get a better view of Ragyr. <She must not be hearing everything. . .> He shook his head, and shrugged. “What do you care, Ragyr? It’s not like you know anyone you’d want to m—“

Deriaz had struck a cord. Ragyr’s voice suddenly rose. The sword unsheathed, revealing the black metal of Adamantine. Ragyr grinned to himself, knowing that the blade also had a slight enchantment of being a bane to constructs. <You’ll regret saying that, runt!> he thought. “DON’T KNOW ANYONE!? YOU DON’T—“ He stopped himself, and calmed down. He began again after a moment. “You don’t know the HALF of it!”

Deriaz shrugged. <Stay calm. . .> “Explain it to me, then. You’re right here. And I don’t know the half of it. . .”

Ragyr growled again, and the grip on his sword tightened. His free hand rocketed upward, and the runes around his body began to glow. A gust of wind burst forth from his hand, attempting to knock the weapons off of Deriaz, though none did.

<****. . .> “You want the story?” Ragyr growled. “Then fine, you’ve got it. . .” Deriaz glanced down subtly between the cracks, to see Jaggie raising her head out of the water to hear the story.

Ragyr sighed after a moment. “It was ten months ago, almost to the day. Yesterday, on the eleventh. . . Everything changed, then. . . You’re lucky you’ve got the ru—That girl. I wasn’t as lucky. . .” Deriaz crossed his arms, but Ragyr continued. “She was perfect. Everything I could have asked for. She loved money, and I could get it for her. I loved music, and she would play it for me. I don’t know of a better match made anywhere in Eberron. We lived like that for a few weeks. . . I can still remember the nights we would spend in random towns. Her lying next to me. . .” He shook his head.

“Anyways. . . She was all I could ever ask for. But one morning, things changed. It was shortly after midnight. . . There was a group of bounty hunters, two of them, that had heard Serpent and I were in town. Her and I. . . We were spending the night in a nearby warehouse. . .

It all happened so fast. One moment, we were lying happily together, and the next, smoke was filling the warehouse. We heard banging on the front door. We went to the back, but that’s where the fire was. So, we went back to the front door. . . She played a song of fascination, and I opened the door so the two bounty hunters could hear it. . .

She told me to run. I told her I wouldn’t leave without her, but she told me to leave. By then, the fire was burning the supports. I left, and turned to beckon her out. . .

When the roof gave way.” <She never stood a chance.>

Deriaz opened his mouth to talk, but Ragyr just kept going. “The roof gave way. I stared in horror as the roof collapsed on top of her. The song, unfinished, released its grip on the bounty hunters, and they came at me. I ran. . . I just. . .

. . . Ran.” His voice was low, and filled with sorrow. “I ran, looking back, and just praying she was alright. But it was hopeless. . . She was gone. . .” He glanced up at Deriaz, and stared at him for a few moments. Out of the corner of his eye, Ragyr could have sworn he saw something sink back under the water below the dock, but he shrugged it off. “But you. . . You’re lucky. . . You’ve got her. . .”

He continued to stare, before the rage swelled up and him and he was back to yelling. “YOU’VE GOT HER, AND I’VE GOT NOTHING!” The runes on his body flashed, and Deriaz was pushed to the wood on the dock by an invisible force. “YOU’VE GOT HER, AND MY WHOLE LIFE WAS TAKEN FROM ME!” He laughed psychotically. “Well, FINE! You want to know the WHOLE STORY!?” He pointed the blade at Deriaz.

“Then you don’t know ANYTHING until you know how I FEEL!” Another flash of runes, and the invisible force slammed into Deriaz, pinning him to the dock. “My whole LIFE was taken from me in those few moments. . . I HAVE NOTHING! You’ve got it MADE! But no, no, I’ve still got one chance to reclaim my life. All I need is a little money. And YOU’VE got just the right face to fill the bounties!” <She’d be so pleased, if she only knew how much this. . . This. . . Fool is worth!>

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 5, Part II
Jealousy


Jaggie rushed up to the dock, trying to get to Ragyr before anything happened. But Ragyr was already in a frenzy. He slammed his foot into Deriaz’s stomach, and laughed. “Where should I begin, hm? How about the eyes? The horrid sight of watching everything vanish, hm?” He spun the blade in his hand, and crouched down on top of Deriaz. He lowered the blade inches from Deriaz’s left eye.

Jaggie let out a sharp vibrating sound, which was her version of Otto’s Resistable Dance. In her hurry, though, the spell fluttered and failed entirely. Ragyr didn’t notice the sound, though. He brought the blade down, easily cutting into Deriaz’s left eye. He kept pushing, until the felt the blade hit wood. . . From behind Deriaz’s head. As Deriaz growled in pain, Ragyr only cackled. “That’s only HALF of how I felt! YOU DON’T KNOW HOW BAD THIS GETS!”

“STOP!” Jaggie yelled. It got Ragyr’s attention easily.

He snarled. “Brilliant! The other half is here. . . What do you want!? I told you to deliver the message, and that was IT!” He stood up, and slammed his foot down onto Deriaz’s neck as Jaggie kept rushing towards the two. “What do you want!? THIS DOESN’T CONCERN YOU!” He dropped the blade to the ground, and snapped his fingers. A lute appeared at his fingers, and the familiar melody of a Fascinate began to play, which Jaggie had taught him the other day.

“Knock—Knock—Knock it off!” Jaggie cried, and chirped her own Fascinate in return.

“Knock it OFF!? KNOCK IT OFF!? DO YOU THINK I HAD THE CHANCE TO SAY THAT!?” He started to crouch down again, but the song stepped him. He growled furiously. “THIS DOESN’T CONCERN YOU!”

Jaggie growled in return. “It. . .” She burped slightly, as more emotions ran through her face. “. . . Does!”

A small puddle of oil was starting to form under Deriaz’s head, and began to drip down into the water through the cracks on the dock. Ragyr continued to scream in his emotional fury. “THIS. DOESN’T. CONCERN. YOU!” He began to struggle violently trying to break out of Jaggie’s Fascinate.

“I would not harm your love. Don’t harm. . .” She hiccupped, “mine. . .”

“Wouldn’t harm!? WOULDN’T HARM!? It’s too LATE for that! She’s DEAD! DEAD! DON’T YOU GET IT!?” He growled again, struggling even more violently.

“But he’s NOT! Don’t take him away!” Jaggie cried again.

Ragyr broke out of the effect suddenly, and the runes on his body began to glow like strobe lights. He jumped back, and both hands went upward. They were angled at both Jaggie and Deriaz, who was still pinned to the dock. “THIS DOESN’T CONCERN YOU!” he screamed, and a massive jet of flames erupted from both hands.

“Geh!” Jaggie dove out to the side, away from the flames. Deriaz, however, groaned as the flames covered him.

Ragyr continued to scream in rage, though it almost sounded like he was sobbing at the same time. “YOU KNOW NOTHING! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” This time, two beams of ice shot forth from his hands. One was aimed for Jaggie, and the other was destined for Deriaz.

Deriaz’s connected first, and spread over his left arm. He growled loudly in pain as it struck. The one that was aimed at Jaggie was off-center, and scraped across her right shoulder. It was still enough to make her grunt in pain as she fell to her side. Ragyr growled again, and grabbed for the sword he had dropped in the chaos. He hovered over Deriaz again, and planted his foot in his stomach again. “This. Doesn’t. Concern. YOU,” Ragyr growled at Jaggie again.

Ragyr laughed again, and crouched down to Deriaz. “Now, then, where was I? . . . right, the sight. . . You only know the half of it. . . You know the pain. Now, do you know how SLOWLY that roof fell, in my eyes?” The tip of the blade pushed lightly against Deriaz’s eye. “I could demonstrate if you’d like. . .” He grinned, and the blade began to slowly lower through Deriaz’s eye, and deeper still.

“STOP!” Jaggie yelled. The command shook the very dock itself as she released the sound burst. Ragyr growled in surprise and in pain as the spell connected to him. He blinked and swayed slightly, stunned by the sheer power of it. “Please. . .” she hiccupped again. She sat up, and made her way closer to Ragyr. “Don’t do this. If it’s money you wish. . . Take mine. All of it.”

Ragyr shook his head after a moment, and took a firmer hold of the hilt of the blade again. “This. . . Isn’t. . . This isn’t about the money! THIS IS ABOUT REVENGE! THIS IS ABOUT HOW THIS DAMNED FOOL. . . How. . . How. . .” Ragyr stopped, and growled. <This is for her. . .> “THIS IS REVENGE! NOTHING MORE. . . Nothing less. . .”

“Why?” she hiccupped. “Why—Why?” Jaggie began to grow frustrated with herself at her stuttering and hiccupping from the emotion overload in her. “. . . Grow up. You’re a bloody Warforged! Not a **** fleshling child!”

“Because. . . Because. . . He. . . Because he’s never known something like this. . .” he said quietly, “. . . And he never will. . .” In a quick motion, he grabbed the blade again, and pushed down until the hilt was almost touching Deriaz’s face. “NEVER!” He pulled the blade out quickly, and Deriaz hissed in pain. “Where next, now? Hm!?” Jaggie looked at the sight blankly. For the first time, no emotion was playing on her face. “Where next, indeed. . . Hm. . .” Ragyr continued. “Maybe the chest? I could make you feel like I did. . . Dead.” He laughed again.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 5, Part III
Jealousy


“Next. . .” Jaggie reached out for the end of the blade. “I’m next. . .”

Ragyr shook his head. “This doesn’t concern YOU. This is between HIM and ME.” Deriaz was growling constantly now, both from the pain and the fact he was blinded from the loss of both of his eyes. Ragyr pointed the blade dead center in the chest of Deriaz. “I can make it fast, but that’s no fun. It was slow for me. . . It can be slow for YOU!”

“Warforged. . . Rurr. . .” Jaggie growled again, as strange emotions riddled her face. She tackled Ragyr off of Deriaz. Ragyr wasn’t expecting it, and as the two connected, the force of the tackle made the blade drop from his hand. He hit the dock and rolled away from Jaggie with another low, guttural growl. “I SAID THIS DOESN’T CONCERN YOU!” The runes erupted with light again, and a large ball of fire grew in his hands. He hurled it forward, aimed at both Jaggie and Deriaz.

“Rahur!” Jaggie’s words were altered as she charged at Ragyr and the bright bloom of flames. The ball exploded around her as she charged into the ball, though the explosion has occurred too soon to reach Deriaz. As she emerged from the flames, with her plating charred and blackened, her vision was met to the sight of Ragyr summoning a wall of acid arrows. He was grinning maniacally, and thrust the wall of them at her. The runes on his body were slowly beginning to dim.

She didn’t stop her charge. Words that she had spoken hardly a day before played in her head. “. . . I’d give up more!”

“More!? Exactly how much more?” he glared at her as four of the acid arrows connected. “Like I said, this doesn’t concern you! GO HOME!” The arrows dug deep yet still, she came at Ragyr. One word escaped her mouth as she reached out to take Ragyr into a bear hug and over the dock with her.

“All. . .”

“All!? THEN FINE!” Ragyr yelled. The runes flickered again, practically dead, as electricity pulsed around him. “I’LL BRING YOU DOWN WITH ME!” A ball of lightning formed and burst between the two as Jaggie connected into Ragyr. The electricity pulsed over both bodies, yet Jaggie still grabbed hold of him. With Ragyr in tow and her knees giving out in pain, she took both of them over the dock and into the frigid Harbor water.

Ragyr went limp as soon as the water enveloped the two. Jaggie struck wildly in the water at whatever she could, the water hardly slowing down her blows. She didn’t stop for some time, until she noticed Ragyr wasn’t moving.

Up on the dock, the invisible force holding Deriaz down gave way, and he rolled over in pain. “Gah. . . Can’t. . . See a thing. . .” He shook his head, trying to shake the pain away.

Jaggie grabbed hold of Ragyr, and swam with ease to the shore. She dropped Ragyr’s unconscious body on the sands, and ran to help Deriaz. She dumped out her supply of wands, and began to pulse healing magics on Deriaz, amid his groans to heal herself first before worrying about him and his injuries.

* * *

Two white, metallic feet walked slowly onto the sand where Ragyr lie. A Warforged stared down at him, and then up to Jaggie and Deriaz off in the distance on the dock.

“You’ve come a long way since I last saw you. . . And yet you still cling to the thoughts of me, ten months later. . .” The voice was feminine in nature, and had a melody-like quality to it.

“Come on, you. . . Let’s get you fixed up. . .” She grabbed hold of Ragyr’s arm, and lifted him up into her arms. “You need to learn not to give it your all, sometimes. . . Just like I remember you.” She laughed to herself and carried Ragyr off to find help.

She stopped once, and glanced back at Deriaz and Jaggie out on the dock. Her eyes fixated on Deriaz for a moment. “So, he’s worth money, is he. . .?” Her eyes glanced over to Jaggie. “And she’s attached to him. . . Ragyr, hon, you really need to think more. . . Go for the weakness, first. . .” She continued to stare at Jaggie for a moment before moving again.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 5, Part IV
Jealousy


Darkness. . .

Everywhere. . .

Deriaz sighed, and shook his head. His eyes were killing him. He couldn’t see a thing. It was times like those he was thankful he was more a sound-oriented person than anything. . .

A flash of light came to his vision. He jumped slightly, but wasn’t aware of where it came from. A moment later, he heard the sound of water. <Jaggie. . . Ragyr?>

A voice came into his head. <Deriaz!?> It was low. It took Deriaz a second, until it finally registered.

<Ragyr!?> he gasped. <But, I thought. . .>

<Yeah, I know. We’re not connected anymore. Well, guess what? Looks like you got hit with a bit of that lightning spell. . .> Ragyr’s voice was slowly growing quieter.

<You’re telling me that because a spell of lightning zapped you, and a bit of it reached over and hit me. . . We’re connected again?>

<Yeah, that’s about the gist of it. . . . Look, don’t ask me, alright? I don’t know either.> His voice was barely a whisper. <I was enjoying the silence. . .>

<Ragyr, where are you?>

<I honestly couldn’t tell you. I think I blacked out. In the water, some--> Ragyr’s voice disappeared.

<Ragyr? Ragyr! Where. . . Why!?> He yelled out in vain, but there was no answer. . .

. . . The only thing that came to his ears. . .

. . . Was the soft hiss of a serpent.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn X "Testing the Waters" Chapter 5

------------Transcript----------------
(Contributors:
Merlask: Varro, Uxor, The Avatar
Deriaz: Deriaz and Ragyr
Liyra: Liyra
Clanscorpion: Sorgo, Sho, and Lord of Blades
Jaggie: Jaggie and Saber)

*Saber stood, though his eyes didn't look directly at Varro. He scowled at the fleshie bard, though not in complete disgust* What do you want?
Varro: Well, you and I have a task to do. I was told that you are the most commanding of Blades assistants, no? That you hold great sway over all your numbers, is that not the truth? That you are a great commander of forged?
Saber: I... I only command when Blades allows... *his eyes glanced about, though didn't focus on anyone.*
Varro: Yes, but Blades doesn't have time to speak directly to you at this moment. His time is valuable right? Well what he wants is for you to restrain that there forged *he gestured to Jaggie, who was still attacking friend as well as foe* but leave her in tact. Can't have the prize messed up before it is enjoyed by the master.
Saber: Yes *he looked at Jaggie and stopped* kill it.
Varro: If that forged is spoiled before Blades gets to do it himself, he'll be down right... well you know how he is about failure.
Saber: It is worthless now. Kill it.
Varro: No no, Blades wants that joy himself. Would you dare rob him of that?? *Varro glanced for a moment back towards Sorgo, Blades, and Uxor*

*Sorgo turned, then saw Blades. Anger filled him* Because of people like you, Sho will be sentenced to death!! *Sorgo yelled and charged Blades, blazing sword in his hands. Halfway to Blades, Sorgo stopped and fell, darkness covered his eyes, and he got on his knees and then threw up, over and over a few times*
*Uxor meanwhile was laying into Blades with full force of impact with the greatsword, and all its properties of good and lawful power. She looked between Sorgo and Blades. She tried to assess how badly wounded Blades was, but she had no talent for that.*
*Sorgo got up, vision going on and off, and blindly walked in the water, and fell. He blacked out.*

Saber: It turned like that before. Kill it while it doesn't move. It knows not friend or foe.
Varro: *opting to change tactics* Blades has bigger plans for you my friend. He needs you to gather up all these forged here and get them to the beach. He's got a few turn coat fleshies planted here and there. We'll serve our purpose for now, for his great plan *he worked as hard as he could to try and steer the charmed warforged to doing something useful*
*Saber finally looked at Varro then looked at all the other forged about them* Scarce! *many warforged began to break off, and take rank formation*
Varro: *over his shoulder to Liyra, who he released from her daze with a rough slap to her shoulder* Go and help Sorgo. Quick!
Liyra: *She shook her head briefly, then obyed, and ran to Sorgo*
*Varro casually set to waking up Deriaz and Ragyr in a similar fashion from their fascination song. He glowered and turned his talk to Ragyr mentally*
Varro: <Eh... so... any ideas what I should do with a whole army of forged?>
*Ragyr instantly set off to finish reparing himself. The runes scattered on his body were beginning to look very dim, though.*
*Deriaz knelt down next to Jaggie's unconscious body* Jaggie, you ok?
*Ragyr laughed* <I've got an idea for ya, but I don't think you'd like it. Soooo, I'd say just send 'em back to where they came from.>

*Uxor laid waste onto Blades for as long as she could, but she knew very soon the dance spell would be gone*

Jaggie: *oil had stopped flowing from her shoulder, though still leaked from her brow. A faint glow was in her eye but she did not talk or move*
Varro: *At Ragyr's reply, Varro resumed audible speech with Saber* Now, good good, they weren't pulling my leg when they spoke of the fine ranks of the forged, in all their assembled glory.
Saber: Of course. We forged are the master race *he growled at Varro, then looked back at the ranks*
Deriaz: * glanced up at Ragyr* Ragyr, come here. Help Jaggie out would you?
Ragyr: *he only looked at Deriaz in disbelief* You want me to use what little power I have to... *he sighed* Fine. *he moved over to Jaggie, and began to slowly repair her with his magic.*
Varro: *he turned to Deriaz, Ragyr, and Jaggie* psssst. What should I do with them? *he motioned to the army round them all*

*Liyra waded partially into the water, struggling to pull Sorgo out, but without much progress. She repeatedly punched his arm lightly to try and wake him up.*

Ragyr: *glanced up at Varro's question* I dunno. Kill 'em?
Deriaz: *glanced up as well* I'd say just send them back to where they came from.
Varro: *turning back to Saber's comment* Very very true! Now *he considered Ragyr's and Deriaz's words* I've just received word that the homeland, the great divine land that Blades himself crafted with his own might, is in danger. You must gather the forces together to return to the Mournlands!
Saber: How do you know of the mournlands before I? Blades would give the command to return. Not a bloody fleshling.
Ragyr: *sat back and sighed, the shoulter injury and part of the face healed completely* Exactly how much of the little power that I have left do you want me to waste?
Deriaz: *shook his head* I dunno. Just enough to get her up? *he shook Jaggie, trying to see if he would get a response.*
Jaggie: eyes flickered* Ruuurtt *the tone was low this time, but much the same.*
*Deriaz glanced at Ragyr, who sighed and moved forward to begin slowly reparing her again*
Ragyr: If I would have known it would have been this much trouble, I wouldn't have done any of that, you know.

*Uxor kept her eye on that which happened around her. She could tell that her assaults on Blades were not as effective*

Liyra: *breathing heavy, she stumbled back onto the beach, having finally dragged Sorgo out of the water.*
*Sorgo twitched, and slowly got up. His eyes grew silverish blue*
Liyra: Hey Sorgo...*she saw his eyes glow blue, and backed off*

Varro: *he looked at Saber in apparent 'surprise'* The... what? No, I'm not giving the order! That would be out of place for a turncoat like me... no no, I'm just letting you know *he grimaced, hoping that Saber wouldn't snap out of the charm*
Saber: *looked back at Jaggie* You should kill it now. *he looked for his axe. The axe was lying behind Ragyr, who seemed to have forgotten about it during the course of reparing Jaggie*
Varro: That isn't for us to decide *he slid inbetween Saber and the forged's path to Jaggie* Now Blades says he wants to finish the little pip squeak off himself, and far be it for me to go against his wishes, or you for that matter, don't you think? I mean, did you hear him say kill it?
Saber: *looked at Varro, then back at Jaggie to see her fly at Ragyr's face* You should kill it.
*Ragyr shielded his face, but Deriaz grabbed Jaggie quickly, making her face him*
Deriaz: Snap out of it!
Jaggie: Ruuuurtt! *she clawed at Deriaz's plating, and tried to even bite at him.
Saber: She's just going to keep doing that.
Deriaz: *winced, but kept holding on to Jaggie* Aaaaany second now. You're gonna snap out of this. . . You're gonna snap out of this, and everything will be back to normal.
Varro: *walked towards Saber, putting a hand on his shoulder, and guiding him away from the scene* I told you, Blades forbade me. And you. That's his privilage, it's his prize. Here, take a walk with me. These troops need whipping into shape. Look at them... I bet there's some flesh lovers among them still.
Saber: *eyes glowered red* Yes there are. *he stomped off ahead of Varro*
Varro: *grimaced* wait a moment friend!

*Sorgo walked up to Uxor and Blades, who were still engaged in fighting, and laid a hand on Uxor, calming her* Peace in the soul, my child.
Uxor: *nearly whirled on him, not expecting Sorgo behind her. She relented, but held her blade up defensively still*
*Sorgo covered Blades in blue flames, and Blades stopped dancing, facing Sorgo calmly. After silent looks at each other, the flames died off, and Blades moved... to the water, to his ship.*
*Deriaz looked from Sorgo back to Jaggie* Aaaaany second now. I only know one way to comfort people, and Uxor showed me a few times, but I dunno exactly how you'd take to that.... Sooo... Aaaaany second now...
Jaggie: Ruuurtt, Ruuurrt! *the sound became less like her soft echoing voice, to a deep metalic sound of grinding metal*
*Sorgo faced everyone the best he could, and smiled. He opened his mouth, and silver light came out from it and his eyes, covering the whole area. Healing, calming, and making peace. When the light died out, Sorgo passed out, the light in his eyes gone*
*Uxor approached the passed out Sorgo and looked to Liyra to see if she was ok, then back to the others, who were contending with Jaggie. She watched as forged walked past them, oblivious, and heading for their ships*

*Varro tried to reapply his charm to Saber, feeling the spell's grip slipping, having wasted far too much time talking with him. The charm failed to take hold over Saber again. He tried to reach into his belongings for a wand, not having the time to cast anything, since Saber was at his right hand*
*Free of the spell, Saber shook his head* Where are they going? *he pointed at the warforged army, which was moving off toward the ships with Blades. He turned back at Varro* You... *he growled with awareness*
Varro: Now now, let's not be hast...*he pulled out the wand and cast it. Saber could feel wounds erupt on his body seemingly from nowhere*

Deriaz: *shook Jaggie slightly* Hullooooo. You gonna snap out of it now?
Ragyr: *laughed* maybe that other forged is right? Maybe we do have to kill her.
Jaggie: Ruuurt! Flame! Ruuurt! *she was trying to rip chunks of plating from Deriaz's side*
Deriaz: *frowned* It's just a necklace, remember? You're the one that gave it to me, for crying out loud. *he seemed oblivious to the fact that Jaggie seemed to be trying to kill him*
*Liyra approached them* Did something get cast on her to make her go crazy? *she once more tried a few sleep spells on Jaggie*
Ragyr: *shook his head* One second she was fine and bound on the ground. The next thing I knew, she turned all jagged and pointy, and was coming after me. Now she apparently has an urge to spill Deriaz's insides across the ground.
*Uxor approached the scene after tending to the safety and security of Sorgo on the ground. She kept a watchful eye to Varro and Saber, but the prediciment of Jaggie was near at hand. She wrote in the sand with the tip of her blade* "docent?"

*Saber staggered, pain running up his back. He took several steps away from Varro*
Varro: Good. Now then, how about you tell me what is wrong with the Jukebox over there, Master Forged?
Saber: *his head jerked back and forth* She was like it befor *he winced* never thought I'd have to be the receiving end of it.
Varro: Explain, if you value your time exisiting
Saber: *he rubbed his head* when we first sailed to come here. She turned to that.
Varro: and how did she come OUT of coming to be that?

*Ragyr shook his head to Uxor's written question* From what I can tell, no. She was fine one minute, and bound. I don't know how she could have put one in. She just... turned into this.
*Deriaz continued staring at Jaggie* Any second now. . .
*Jaggie stopped attacking for the most part, but instead she was trying to get out of Deriaz's arms.*
*Deriaz looked Jaggie up and down, and deciding that she was starting to calm down, let go of her* Feeling better yet?
*Jaggie released, and pulled back from the others* Rurrtt
Deriaz: *continued to watch Jaggie* Well, as long as you aren't crazy... now we just need to get you talking...

Saber: She didn't like the idea of Blades taking over the ship and crew. Threw Maul over board and killed some fleshie woman. *he nodded to where Jaggie was* She was out of control. We threw her over board. Lost two other forged thanks to her.
Varro: That is not what I asked. How did she wake from it. I don't care of how you disposed of her.
Saber: She didn't! We thought that was the end of her. Only time she acted like this before was when we first took her from Flamekeep. She wasn't spiked then... just crazy for a few seconds, and shut off again. When she woke up again, she was crying about some **** kid... that's all I know. I don't know how to stop...urr...how to stop her.
Varro: I suggest you figure it out *he put the wand up, and instead reached for his blade* Walk. *and he motioned for Saber to start towards the group again, and walk round Varro*

Deriaz: Well, she doesn't seem that bad now. Maybe it just takes a little time to calm her down. See, she's not attacking anymore...
*Jaggie growled, and looked at the last person she heard speak after Saber* Rurrtt *she charged at the minstrel*
Deriaz: *groaned* I stand corrected *he got up quickly, and ran after Jaggie. Ragyr, meanwhile, was laughing like it was all some sort of joke.*
Liyra: *she glared at Ragyr for a moment before following Deriaz and running after Jaggie*
*Uxor also sprinted after them, but Sorgo's haste had faded off*

Varro: *not anticipating Jaggie, he was struck hard by her charge*
Saber: Looks like I gotta go *he spun round and bolted before Jaggie got too close to him*
Deriaz: *grabbed Jaggie again, trying to pull her off of Varro* He did nothing to you. What is WRONG with you?
Varro: *tried to spin around on his attacker, but Jaggie was on his back, and he couldn't flip round to better leverage*
Jaggie: *arms pinned behind her back, legs kicking at the ground, she just continued to make the same grinding metal sound*
Deriaz: *wrapped his arms around Jaggie, looking more like some sort of a bear hug* Would you stop for a minute and calm down?
*Varro struggled out from beneath Jaggie's assault* I see she hasn't stopped.
Liyra: She probably won't stop for a while... maybe we should just knock her unconscious and take her back to the city.*
Deriaz: *sighed and shut his eyes* Alright then, fine. Sorry... *he sighed again, and hit Jaggie on the back of the head with his elbow, in an attempt to knock her out.*
Jaggie: Rurrtt! Rurtt! Ke ke ke ke...
Deriaz: *sighed* Was hoping it would have been a one hit thing but... sorry again, Jaggie *he elbowed her again in the back of the head, this time slightly harder*
*Varro glanced back to try and see how far away Saber was in terms of a persuit*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn X "Testing the Waters" Chapter 6

------------Transcript----------------
(Contributors:
Merlask: Varro, Uxor, The Avatar
Deriaz: Deriaz and Ragyr
Liyra: Liyra
Clanscorpion: Sorgo, Sho, and Lord of Blades
Jaggie: Jaggie and Saber
Pempernel: Pempernel and Sornolin)

*Scrambling to his feet, Varro brought forth a haste spell, which caught Deriaz, Jaggie, and Liyra as well. The bard then set to sprinting across the sands after the fleeing warforged*
Jaggie: *haste didn't matter much for her now. Her eye finally dimmed out, and her kicking stopped. She was out*
Ragyr: *continued to laugh* You have... have no idea how funny this whole scene is to watch. *he grinned, and then burst into laughter again*
Liyra: *looking up at Deriaz* should we take her to the boat, before she wakes up?
Deriaz: *he looked down at Liyra* Um... I suppose. *he hoisted Jaggie up, using both arms to hold her. Ragyr steadied his laughter, and grinned*
Ragyr: We should just go with what that one forged said. Kill her. Would make it easier
*Uxor looked among them, then out after Varro*
Deriaz: *sighed* I suppose taking her to the boat and back to Stormreach would be the best option.
Liyra: *nodded to Deriaz's statement* Yeah. And hopefully she won't be crazy when she wakes up.
Deriaz: *frowned* If she's still crazy, I suppose I could just... knock her out again... *Ragyr stood up, and brushed himself off*
Ragyr: You ask me, the other idea is much easier, but... whatever. *he shrugged. At the same time, Spike came limping around the corner*

*Varro came bounding after Saber, and was getting in range of him now. He coulled out after Saber* What's say we come to an understanding...
Saber: An understanding of I run the heck away from that thing! *he kicked up his feet and ran faster toward the boats*
Varro: An understanding that if you stop running now, I might not kill you.
Saber: Yeah, but then that thing kills me! *he had no idea that Jaggie was already out* I've seen what she can do when she's like that!
Varro: And you suppose what I'll do right now is any less? *he was gaining ground on Saber*
Saber: *running in sand was never something a 900 pound warforged was meant to be good at. Saber was being dragged down, staggering in loose footing and sink holes.*
Varro: *the bard was closing fast on him now, soon within striking distance* Last chance, forged.
Saber: *He cursed. Weaponless and with half the plating on his back plied back, one true strike could kill him instantly* I fold *he stopped, dropping to his knees and raising his hands in the air*
*Varro dashed up alongside the forged* Good ma...eh... forged. Now, how about you tell me how you got her to do that. *he held out the blade, which glowed with goodness*

*Deriaz turned, and slowly headed towards the boat, carrying Jaggie with him. Ragyr, without waiting to be asked, put his hands on Spike, repairing the metal dog. As soon as the spell was cast, the runes on his body seemed to flicker and die out*
Ragyr: Hmph. Guess that flare took more out of me than I thought...
Liyra: *started to follow Deriaz, but turned and ran back to where she had thrown down the shield. After picking it up and brushing the sand off of it, she walked back toward the boat*
*Uxor came to help load the body of Sorgo into the boat*
Ragyr: *bent over, picking up Saber's axe* Hmph. He probably won't be needing this *he continued walking casually, not trying to catch up to Deriaz*
*Deriaz slowly made his way back to the boat, setting Jaggie down carefully. Ragyr and Spike followed close behind*
Ragyr: I'm telling you. Kill- *he started, but a look of rage in Deriaz's eyes stopped him* Alright, alright, sheesh. Forget I mentioned it.
*Uxor looked among them all, then back to the direction Varro had run off*

Saber: *arms still in the air, he looked back slightly* Just now? I don't know. Maybe the beating Blades gave her did it. Last time was... heh. Ever give a fleshie a concussion? Smack to the head and some people don't know what's going on any more. heh.
Pempernel: *suddenly appeared out of the shadows, with his trusty rapier in hand* Ummm Varro, I believe you dropped this dagger by mistake. Lucky I popped by.
*Varro turned, startled at the sight of Pempernel appearing abruptly, and his focus was off Saber*
Pempernel: Minstrel, hasn't being around Points warned you about how well I move in shadows?
Varro: *he put his attention back to Saber* Again, that is not what I asked. How did she know to attack me? *he motioned for Saber to start walking again* This time... no interruptions. Pemp, keep your blade handy, should this forge decide he wants to do anything apart from what I ask of him. Let us hope that you won't see master Pempernel's blade when it enters your side, any more than I saw his approach, Saber, should you try anything this time.
Saber: Attack you? What? I don't know. Honest! Look around, she attacked half your bloody crew!
Varro: Ah yes, but at such an opportune moment. *Varro prodded Saber to walk with them back towards the others*
Sornolin: Hail Minstrel
Pempernel: Hail Sornolin
*Varro looked over at the two, and shook his head* Little warning before you just pop in on one trying to escort a prisoner? But hail all the same.
Saber: Maybe you didn't hear me when I told you what happened last time. She killed a bloody fleshie. She thinks your kind, like you flipp'n fleshies are the true masters of the world. Doubt she killed anything before that day.
Sornolin: *blinks* What's this? Jaggie killed a fleshie?
Saber: Long time ago. Doubt she even knows. Look at her. Well...ahh...when she wakes up.
*Varro escorted Saber back to the main group, with Pempernel and Sornolin along side* Look lively Sornolin, this forged has much to answer for.

*The sight of Saber, Varro, Pempernel, and Sornolin cresting the sand dunes is seen after some time*
Varro: Good...they haven't left yet. *he pointed out the cluster of their group near the boat and on the sands*
Deriaz: *saluted the group as they approached the boat, though Ragyr growled at Saber*
Ragyr: What, you didn't kill him?
Varro: Interrogation is done best on the living, Ragyr.
Saber: *growled back at Ragyr, though kept his arms up* I hope when Blades finds you he kills you slow. Some second in command you are...
Sornolin: Interrogation? Tis better done while deactivated and I read memory banks via the nexus lifeweb.
Ragyr: *seemed to ignore Varro's comment* At least I actually got the position, hm? Besides, I wasn't too fond of the position anyway. Can you believe there were actually restrictions on what I could do?
Pempernel: What a neat concept Ragyr... positions that have restrictions.
Ragyr: *he only seemed to laugh* Yeah well, maybe it's just me, but I prefer what I used to do. Was free to do what I wanted. That's not to say I can't just pick up the old trade, right?
Pempernel: As you wish Ragyr.... freedom though does have a cost itself
Ragyr: *grinned* Name the cost. I haven't been billed yet.
*Uxor came dashing over to Varro, throwing an arm round his neck, and pressing her lips to his*
Varro: *he grinned through the kiss* I told you it doesn't work unless I'm the one who contacts you first... just because you can't hear me doesn't mean I'm in trouble.
*Varro and Uxor both stopped abruptly, Uxor turning round slowly to the others. It was apparent she hadn't meant for them to see that. Varro on the other hand smoothed his robe*
Varro: So...this forged... what's to be done with it?
Pempernel: What do you wish done Minstrel?
Varro: Acquire information from it.
Sornolin: Information from a forged?
Saber: ....
*Deriaz shrugged, not seeming to care at what he had seen* Interrogation is probably the best
Ragyr: *sighed* Already gave you my idea. And again, no one ever likes my idea.
Varro: This one has been deep in the planning of Blades. Not to mention, seems to have a working knowledge of Jaggie. Considering her current state, that has to be of use.
Saber: Wish you killed it...
Deriaz: *growled slightly* Why would you kill her? She's perfectly fine. A little...upset I guess, but perfectly normal.
*Varro looked among them* Are any of you hurt?
*Liyra shook her head 'no'*
*Uxor didn't give a reaction one way or another to his question, but she definately looked worse for wear*
*Ragyr shook his head. Deriaz shrugged*
Deriaz: A little from where Jaggie clawed and scratched at me, but it's nothing. Don't worry about it.
Varro: *he channeled some healing energy into Saber* There... the benevolence of fleshies... ingrate.
Deriaz: *frowned* No need to talk to him like he's some kind of criminal, you know
Saber: *was about to say something, but thought better with the number of flesh folk around*
Varro: What, like he kidnapped someone?
Deriaz: We got her back unharmed, didn't we?
Varro: Tell you what... what do I know anyway... I'm just an Ambassador. I'll leave Saber to your care then *Varro started to tend Uxor's wounds*
Deriaz: Sure, perfectly fine with me *he grinned* if you just want me to turn him loose, that is.
Varro: *he paused and looked at Deriaz* Why would you do that?
Liyra: No way you're letting that guy loose Deriaz. He nearly killed Jaggie! Nevermind him helping break the guildhall in half
Saber: Just doing what I was told, halfling. Nothing more, noth'n less.
Deriaz: I have my reasons.
Varro: If Deriaz were to do as he says... turn you to your own devices... what would you do with yourself then Saber?
Saber: What would I do? What my lord commands...
Liyra: Your lord is high tailing it back to the Mournlands. Try again, Saber.
Saber: Meh, I'll get back. I did the last time. Mind you I had a boat then...
Deriaz: What would you care what he does? I mean, you already consider him a criminal and ingrate. What could he possibly do that would be worse?
Varro: Do not presume that I regard you in a different light because you are forged, Der... if that is what this is about.
Deriaz: *shook his head* not at all.
Varro: Need I remind you that there is a drow among us, Sho, who is about to face trial for his acts as well
Deriaz: Like I said, though, I have my reasons. Call it insanity, which seems to be what I'm considered to be becoming.
Liyra: Hey no one said that you were going insane Der.
Varro: Why defend him Der?
Deriaz: *motioned to Ragyr* He's considering me insane. And who knows me better than him, the one who knows my every thought hm? *he turned to Varro* I said I have my reasons. But this isn't about me. This is about him.
Saber: *getting bored of standing around, looked about carefully, and began to sit* I'll just wait down here, shall I? You folk can talk about what you'll do to me. Sure it's less than what Blades is gonna do.
Varro: Der... no offense, but this forged has commited acts against our Guild. You are but an Ambassador to Blue Line. You expect us to shrug it off?
Deriaz: Of course. Just an ambassador. But I don't expect you to shrug it off. Look...just...*he sighed* forget it.
Varro: I've seen the delights this forged had today, and I assure you, none of them were for anything but delight at serving Blades, and succeeding in capturing Jaggie. What would you have me do Der? I'm really at a loss here *he crossed his arms, relenting on his tending to Uxor for a moment*
Deriaz: *shrugged* I'd at least give him the benefit of the doubt, but that's only because him and I are alike. But do what you want. These are just my ramblings.
Saber: Oh, should have seen when we first found her. Far better. Swear if she could she would have been white as a ghost that day at your guild. heh...oh...I shouldn't be talking. Heh. Shutting up now *he put a finger to his lips and remained silent*
Ragyr: *looked confused, and looked between the two* You know, I've got an idea if neither of you can decide...
Varro: *he rolled his eyes over to Ragyr* Does it involve killing him?
Saber: Oh death! Nice see, which brother brings me back. hah.
Ragyr: *grinned and shrugged* What can I say? Killing both of them actually would make this much easier. But then again, I best you've NEVER heard that idea before.
Varro: From you? Never.
Saber: Just cause Blades hates the Flame don't mean they aint useful around here.
*Varro looked to Saber* You know, perhaps letting you talk of your own accord is over rated
Saber: Hmm...yeah...shutting up again *he tapped a finger to his lips and smiled*
*Uxor wrote* "Let us see about getting Jaggie in order. We can bring Saber with us and secure him until we decide what to do"
*A whimper came from the boat. Along with another 'Rurrtt', but then went silent again*
Deriaz: *turned at the sound of Jaggie, but nodded to Uxor's note* Now that's something I can agree to.
Saber: Umm...sorry...gotta talk. Aint your boat a little small for four warforged a dog and um...five fleshies?
Varro: Afraid to swim?
Deriaz: *grinned* if anything, we can just have Ragyr swim or something
Saber: Me? Swim? Bah! I sink like a rock!

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XI "The means and the end" Chapter 1

((WARNING: This account of the story contains some material that might not be appropriate for sensitive readers. If you are someone who has an aversion to stories of torture, or that contain graphic depicitions of violence, please do not read any further.))

<Help her.>
*No answer came.*
<I will give you my soul, I will give up being Augur, anything you ask I will do it... just please help her.>
*As hard as he could, Varro could not fight past the pain and distress of the situation to contact the Avatar. He knew this. He couldn't even access his Augur visions now. The fact that it was so only served to deepen the sense of suffering for him. He was servant to a diety, an Ambassador to the city, and yet he could do nothing to help Uxor.*

*Before this moment, life seemed to be coming into order for him, with a bit of complication. Blades had been driven off. Saber contained. Jaggie restored. An understanding of his new powers serving the Avatar. Even the fact that Zoltando had thrust upon him a crazed Kalashtar woman, telling her that Varro could help her, had been set right. Infact, he'd formed a bond with her... as had Uxor... in their attempts to help her damaged psyche. It was for this new friend that he and Uxor were now the subject of attack. Ironically, it was through this same kalashtar, Tyr, that he learned of Uxor's plight in the first place. That had been the bait. Rushing to her aid, despite his best preperations, he too had become captive and prisoner.*

*The phantom feeling of where Varro's fingers had once been on his left hand conflicted with the consuming pain of his shattered jaw. He could see the movement of the spiders around him, but this was little distress compaired to now watching the mithril defenders laying into Uxor's legs with fire and teeth. He cringed at hearing Uxor's voice, as she pleaded vainly to their warforged captor to spare him. Whatever the Warforged had done to her earlier, she had been reduced to gasping breaths, which she set to calling out the bard's name, and short pleads for mercy, or to take her instead. This pained Varro more greatly than any of the physical attacks that Juryrig, their assailant, had set upon him with.*

*Varro heard the command given, and he knew the metal dogs would be upon Uxor's mangled leg to finish the job. He fought off the blinding pain to force out* STOP *between his teeth.*

*The warforged approached him again* If you do not cooperate, I will terminate Creature Uxor. Do you understand, Minstrel Varro Velox? Names, Locations, Associations, Descriptions, Whereabouts.

*Varro could hardly focus on Juryrig, but the sound of Uxor throwing herself against her metal binds in the chair pushed him to work words with the paper under his right hand that Juryrig had placed for him to write upon, since he was not capable of talking now.* 'She is no Sword of Liberty. I have told you the truth, she is a lone Kalashtar. A vagabond.'

Juryrig: You have harbored a known murderer... who has brought suffering to innocent families. Innocent children. Innocent forged *he growled*

*The fist to Varro's gut, as he sat chained in the chair, stilled his writing on the blood soaked paper. Juryrig proceeded to lay into him in the same manner he had done for Uxor before Varro's arrival... with each blow came a name. The name of someone who had perished upon the train that had been attacked by the people Juryrig spoke of. Uxor's voice continued to carry to the warforged, who paid it no mind. Varro was running out of ideas. No matter what he said, this forged was convinced that Tyr was with the Swords of Liberty. He doubted sincerely that that was the true reason he wanted so much information about her. He knew he couldn't continue to take the hits though, he was losing rationality now. His Avatar could not help him, Uxor was helpless, he was helpless... and if he didn't stop this, there would be little left of either of them to help. He tried once again to get to a calmer place, in the meditations that Uxor had been teaching Tyr. He could see the woods... the fern filled wooded area, with greenery covering...

another blow to the face rocked his concentration. He tried more, renewed by the notion that the pain now was blurring together in a way that it was difficult to remember what life without such agony had been like. The woods. The ferns. The obscured path. It was enough. Enough for him to will forth the shield. The female counterpart to the Avatar had said the shield was a part of him, so it was time to test this in full. His right wrist was loose enough to lift, and there was a loud clang as Juryrig's fist met a large and ancient looking shield, obscuring Varro's body. Juryrig paid it no heed and beat upon the shield as well. Varro felt the shield forcing down upon him. From behind it his voice railed against the blows, over top of all of his injury, in a shriek of defiance, as clear as he could form the words with his mostly disfunctional mouth*

Varro: SHE KILLED NO ONE! *he knew he'd regret that as he felt parts of his jaw splinter further from the forced effort.*

Juryrig: Sever! *the call came to the dogs and Varro released his will to have the shield between he and Juryrig, in order to have view of Uxor. If they were going to hurt her, he was not going to turn from it. This was his fault.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XI "The means and the end" Chapter 2

((WARNING: This account of the story contains some material that might not be appropriate for sensitive readers. If you are someone who has an aversion to stories of torture, or that contain graphic depicitions of violence, please do not read any further.))

*Obedient to its master's call, the metal dog went for Uxor's maimed leg. Varro had all but ignored Juryrig now as Juryrig continued to beat into his abdomen with the vengeful punches. Irritated at his disregard for the attacks, Juryrig's arm became a blade, which went through Varro's shoulder into the chair behind. Varro's focus was for her alone however, wishing that on some level, he could reach her mind as he had in the past, and speak with her. That only worked if the one he wished to contact was happy or experiencing pleasure, and he knew there would be none of that for her, no matter how good at meditation she was.*

Oh that's quite enough of that. *a female voice called from behind Juryrig*

*The blur of a bright force struck the metal dog and cast it aside. For a moment, Varro thought that it was his vision going out from the physical abuse. He recognized this voice though. With effort, he looked up and saw the form of a drow woman, standing on the ceiling. Juryrig too saw this, turning toward her. Juryrig suddenly went still, and the full weight of his body came crashing into his seated victim. Varro choked, and his head arched back not of his own accord, as the blade of Juryrig's arm was forced into him from the large warforged falling fully into him. He felt it passing between his ribes, and could feel the tip of the end scratching his neck, where it had erupted.*

*He was dying. Many thoughts raced within him as he felt his attachment to the world slipping. One of which was that he had spent his time playing off his relationship with Uxor as a casual one... and when she died, that is what she would remember - that he just 'liked to be around her.' That they had 'fun.' That was what he had left her to take with her to the afterlife, which apparently he too was about to have a most immediate encounter with. He thought about Endaria...how enraged at him she would be, if she was there in the beyond, to learn he had - for the second time in his life - not expressed the gravity of what a woman meant to him. A woman who had given everything for him... even the last breaths she would probably take in this existence were being shaped into his name, as he heard her crying out across the room. This was the end. He felt energy upon him, and a fizzing and bubbling sensation inside his body where the blade was.*

*Uxor threw all she had against the chains at the sight of Varro being run through. It was not enough, and the bonds still held her fast to the chair. The hand that had been loose enough to write with she could not cause to function enough attempt freedom there - that hand and wrist had been crushed. The sight of Mekari hopping lightly down before her was immaterial at this point. Any other time she would have perhaps felt fear, or even hate, for the woman. Now there was only the notion that Varro was in immediate mortal peril.*

*She watched Mekari roll the warforged off of Varro, heard the sound of the blade sliding back out from wence it had come into his form, and Uxor could see that Varro very much seemed lingering between this world and the next. He did have enough consciousness to make as much of a scowl as he could towards Mekari however, as Mekari reached out and stroked at his forehead and cheek with a hand, making a soothing cooing noise to him.* My poor darling.

*Meanwhile, Juryrig had started to climb up, and Uxor didn't know what to say or do of it. Mekari turned to Juryrig, and the two were obviously talking, but only Juryrig could be heard.*

*Uxor didn't understand, as Juryrig seemed to be in a discussion with Mekari, calling Mekari by a warforged number of some kind. He also kept disagreeing as Mekari shifted to touch upon Varro and feel at his wounds. Jurgrig seemed to insist that she and Varro were 'his targets' and Mekari spoke to him moving her mouth, but no sound was coming out. The next thing she knew, Juryrig was coming towards her. She didn't care. If this was her fate, then so be it. To watch Varro dying, and out of reach of her, was more torment than all she had been through; whatever Juryrig had in store for her now was nothing. The blade came down at her, and she didn't flinch, as it cut through her bonds. She was freed. Her most immediate action was to force herself up upon her one good leg, and try to hop for Varro. Adernaline at the need to be at his side set her unyielding over, and her mind moved the parts of her that would still respond, all bent on getting to him. She didn't even realize what was stopping her for a moment, as she came into something solid. Mekari was standing in front of her with her arm outstretched, and had placed the outstretched hand firmly into her chest, holding her back. She had no time to process the act, when she felt positive energy pump into her. Mekari was healing her.*

Mekari: ... And YOU'RE lucky I don't care what you think, and came to see him against your wishes.

*Mekari looked to Juryrig, and moved her mouth silently to him, and he came to Varro's chair and cut him loose as well. Mekari then went to Juryrig, and their confused&nbsp;one-way conversation continued, as Uxor hopped the rest of the way to her bard. She took his face in her hands, looking in his eyes to see if there were signs of life still, holding herself up by will alone. Recognition. He knew who she was, she could see that, and her joy in that awareness was only off set by the sorrow at seeing him suffering. She heard Juryrig speak again* Deactivate *and the metal dogs, who had been staring absently without command, went dim and still. Juryrig nodded and set off down the hall. Mekari strolled round, not approaching Uxor or Varro. She didn't realize it at first, but Uxor was aware suddenly that she was putting herself between Mekari and Varro defensively, ready to fight the woman with but her one good off-hand fist, and standing upon one good leg. Mekari shook her head*

Mekari: I will not hurt him, pale faced one. I can't. Seeing this rattles my heart... but I told you, didn't I? *she looked to Varro, who managed to glare back at her* I told you that if they wanted you, I cannot stop them. Even now I put myself at great risk, having interfered. But I am far more capable of dealing with what will come than you, obviously, so what you said of 'being capable has proven to not be so. As for you *she looked to Uxor* I have interviened now, but you are not safe. I am going to deter what is coming for you next... and I may, or may not, prove successful in that. So you had better get him out of here. I've given you all the healing I can. Go.

Uxor: Who are they and what do they want *she labored to ask*

Mekari: So you can talk? Those I work for would not appreciate my divulging such information, but as it may be one of the last things you hear in this world, I will oblige. I am an agent, and those I serve demand resources for their hunt *she looked to Varro* but he is not a resource. He is mine... and I will remind them of this. Now get out. *and the form of Mekari dematerialized in a few strides*

*Uxor tried to pull Varro up out of the chair, careful to avoid touching the ooze that Juryrig had coated the chains in. She did not know what it did, and after all she had been injected with or covered in, she did not wish to know. Varro slumped against her, standing partly on his own, but barely so. He rolled his head into her shoulder as the two tried to find the energy to leave. It was the chains that brought Uxor round to an alarming realization. She breathed out slowly* Trap. There's a trap at the door. I don't know what, but something. *She felt her weight giving out, and Varro came with her.*

*Varro didn't know where to go now. He couldn't teleport them. He couldn't access his Augur abilities. With his mouth ruined, he couldn't cast his magic or read from a sroll, and he knew Uxor had no capabilities with such either. With the door rigged, and both of them with only one good hand, neither was capable of even trying to disactivate a trap. The two were dragging themselves across the room, but with no purpose. He put an arm out to stop their movements. She rolled towards him and seemed to be trying to find that meditative point of hers. How she was able to reach such resolve in such dire times was beyond him. The things she'd been teaching Tyr were nice, but how could anyone do them at a time like this? She was so badly wounded... more so than he. She had endurance to it, but it did not change the fact that she was done for if he didn't get her something. He realized he still had his pack with him... Juryrig had not bothered to remove his affects in the heat of his capture. He couldn't force his jaw to work now.* aaaak. aaaak. *it was futile. He sat up and dragged himself over to retrieve the charcole and a few pages of the paper that were upon the floor. Once back he wrote 'pack' and 'potion' and she nodded in understanding. The two of them worked together lying on the floor to open his bag and find the potion he refered to. A healing potion. He pushed it towards her.*

Uxor: No. Take it. *she tried to push it back, but he shook his head. Between her injuries and his stubbornness, the potion hung in space between them as the two wrestled with trying to force it towards one another*

Uxor: Varro no! You take it. If I am to die, it is my karma. I accept this, and am prepaired *She pushed the potion the rest of the way as his hand went for the charcole to write more. He did not drink the potion, and she watched him writing.*

'I don't care about karma, I care about you.' *after a moment, he dragged the charcole to cross out 'care about' and wrote beneath it 'love'.*

Uxor: Then please drink it for me.

*He shook his head, but he had little say in the matter as she put it to his lips and tried to help him with it. He turned from it, writing* 'cant open mouth, you take it.'

Uxor: Always scheming.

*If it didn't hurt so much, he would smile, but instead he closed his eyes and wrote* 'semantics. Ironic to have you speak and I write, no?'*

*She shook her head a little with a smile of her own that hurt her broken nose to make. This was short lived as she heard sounds echoing down the passageway. The sound of metal and movement... many feet. Varro heard them too, and went quiet for a moment before writing as fast as he could force himself to.*

Varro: 'This is it. I thought I was dead a moment ago, but now it's coming for real. I have been foolish, and I want you to know I love you. I want you to know who I am. Uxor *he crossed it out and wrote*...Coralbina... my nam

*she took his hand, and held it in her own. Her skin was so cold, and it felt good to him. *

Uxor: Who we were does not matter. You are Varro. I am Uxor. We are who we are now, and we knew love together, that is all I will need to die happy.

*he nodded with a sigh, and held her hand, the two of them skinking down awaiting their fate. It had gotten quiet in the passage in the meantime, but neither of them suspected the threat to be gone. A glimer of the images of the world's pleasure flashed to Varro, as he was comforted to hear her words and pleased to know he'd told her how he felt...and he latched onto it for a moment, holding it and moving with it as he could, but it was not enough to get them out. Resigned that their last hope for escape was lost, he breathed out heavily again. Another notion came to him... if he could show her what he was seeing. At least she could block the end with it, those images and sensations. As if his thought had prompted response, he heard answer to his idea.*
<Yes Augur, you can.>
*Varro didn't waste any time asking why he had not gotten answer before, or seeking to get the Avatar to take them out. He knew, almost on a subconscious level, what the reason was that he and the Avatar had not been able to speak before now.*
Varro:<Help her. I want nothing, just help her.>
<I am sorry Augur but I can do nothing. You can do something for her however. You know how. You just have to do it.>
Varro: <Tell me.>
<You take from the world, but you have not learned to give.>
*For once, Varro understood the Avatar with astounding clarity. This was promptly interrupted by the feeling of another mind coming to meet with his... he heard another voice in his head.*

'Varro?' *it was Tyr. Varro felt a wave of panic wash through him that if she was the one coming down the hall, the trap was still armed. He reflexively cried outloud* aaaaack geee aaaaack eerraaaaa errraaaa *but it came out as garble. Uxor clenched his hand, thinking that who ever was coming was already laying into him with psionic power. After a moment's stupidity, he reached for Tyr with <TRAP> but he could not hold back the rest of what came with that... the feelings of his tormented body.*

*A click and moments later a hiss errupted in the room, with the sound of shouts and magic spells coming forth, as a form came tumbling in, and set to fighting the disabled mechanical dogs. Varro didn't think he'd ever been happier to see an elf in his life as he saw Points was the one in the room with them. He heard a commotion outside as well, but recognized many of the voices. Points came to the two of them, and Uxor looked to Points, who tried to comfort them.*

Points: We're going to get you out of here.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XI "The means and the end" Chapter 3

*Uxor looked at the floor. Varro had beset, as she knew, to berating her for putting herself in such immediate danger so quickly. She had spent her day under the protection of one named 'Shiningeagle' as she, Points, and Shiningeagle were confronted with an imposter, who had taken one of their own prisoner, and was steadily working to take over the life of the captive. She had turned to Tyr for help locating where their fellow was being held, but it had not taken long for Varro to have awareness to what she was up to, and arrive - in his way of so doing - to whisk her to their home to 'talk.' She knew he would be upset with her for being in danger, still as yet limping from their ordeal, and her hand not yet mended enough to resume writing. She had not even gotten to renew her vow of silence with the brothers. One thing at a time, she told herself. At the moment, the thing she was dealing with was explaining to Varro her reasons for her actions.*

Uxor: What if this captor of Nero is the same one who set Juryrig upon us?

Varro: THAT is immaterial at this point Ux... I'm not having you galavanting around trying to 'save' everyone. If Nero is captured, if the others are aware and working to do something for it, that is enough.

Uxor: I didn't ask it... they came to me Varro. We're ambassadors, and that is what happens when...

Varro: I don't think you understand what it means to BE an ambassador Ux. There is a difference between an ambassador and a general. You are not a general. It's bad enough that Sho is on trial, but you are not him. Hell, we don't even have that issue resolved, let alone you throwing yourself into this.

Uxor: I cannot stop them coming to me Varro. If I have the resources, I am going to help them. *seeing him scawf at her reply, she moved to him to touch his face* What happened was horrid. I don't dispute that. But you can't keep me in a bag of holding Varro.

Varro: Is it so wrong to want you to be safe if it is within my power to see it is so?

Uxor: No. But you know that we love one another, and that I will not simply surrender. If you are afraid that I am not coming back... like Endaria... I swear to you that I will fight to return to you always, even if it is from the beyond. I accept much of my fate in the world, but that is one thing I would not accept.

*He seemed somewhat comforted by her words* Varro: You said that you felt I put the Avatar before you once. Now I feel you put the lives of others before yourself even. I know you try to 'balance your karma' or whatever you call it but, there does come a time when you have to watch for yourself Ux. I don't feel like you're doing that right now. What of us? What of our time? We've both done much for the guild... for the city... when is there time for us to have our own rest or peace?

Uxor: Varro, I put nothing before us. To that ends...so much so... that it is the reason I must tell you now of Juyrig.

*His expression immediately went more stern, and she breathed, knowing that if she was not careful in her wording that he would immediately dash off to confront Jury once he had awareness to where Jury was being kept.*

Uxor: Juryrig has been captured. He surrendered himself willingly. *she took his hands in hers* and I have seen him.

Varro: WHAT? *she felt his hands tighten on hers* Where? How?

Uxor: Please Varro... just hear my words. Juryrig is awaiting justice. That justice comes from those he offended. Those he offended are you and I. They brought me to him because they felt you would simply kill him...

Varro: *he interjected* 'they brought you'...they who?

*she closed her eyes, knowing that she could keep nothing from him... not because he would force it, but because she could not bare to keep things from him.* Uxor: Deriaz and Jaggie. Don't be angry with them. They just want to get to the bottom of this, and killing off the one person who knows who did this to us is not going to help anything

Varro: *he snarled somewhat* I already KNOW who set this on us...not specifically but...

Uxor: You think you know. I don't trust Mekari. You told me once she is a liar, and to never believe her words. Therefor, I don't believe what she said even now, though I don't entirely understand what she said. If we are going to have answers, we are going to do this the right way Varro.

Varro: Fine. So they took you to him and what did you learn?

Uxor: That he is a pawn, and he knows this. That he is aware that we are not his targets... and his orders were false. And what's more... he is insistant that you and I are the only ones permitted to dispatch justice upon him. He says that it is our right. I respect that wish. I have a feeling however that the others won't be so accepting of that.

Varro: Let them think what they will. If my 'justice' is what that forged wants, then he will receive it!

Uxor: I won't stop you Varro, but please *she held his face in her hands to bring his focus off whatever he was contemplating, and back to her* there is justice, and there is spite. Balance. Karma. Neither you or I have died, and it would be no balance for Juryrig to die either.

Varro: And what if I requested to hurt him? To torment him? To sick Zoltando on him for a few hours? *he raised his brow at her*

Uxor: No. Not Zoltando. If you are going to do this, you will do it yourself. Juryrig is correct when he says that justice should come from you and I. If your decision is to marr him, so be it. He is prepaired, and I cannot and will not stand in the way of your decision.

Varro: Fine! *he gnarled his nose* even better anyway, if I had a mind for such, I would want him to be in my own hands for his punishment. When may I dipatch my sentence on him then?

Uxor: Within moments. But you must allow something first... there is a man who wishes to inspect Juryrig for damage. If he can find no reason to believe Juryrig acted outside his capasity... such as compulsion... we may proceed.

Varro: Oh we will proceed whether he likes it or not. This is not his business. This is between the three of us... you, I, and the warforged. But I will humor your request and allow him to perform the inspection. Just don't expect me to stand down, no matter what he finds.

Uxor: I know Varro. He knows this too. But please permit him the chance. I will feel much better about this if I am positive that Juryrig's actions were his own.

*Varro scawfed once again, but nodded in agreement. He awaited word that they were to set out, and paced around the room, rooting through his things. Uxor did not question him on it... if anything, she was just content that he hadn't demanded that she take him to Juryrig. After some time, she received word that the others had been mostly cleared from the room. Now she had to have faith in Varro... the one she was 'mate' to, as Juryrig had so named her... she had to trust that he would bring justice, and not merely vengence.*

Uxor: They are ready. I will show you where they are, but please do not be upset. Deriaz and Jaggie only want to see things done properly, not by mob rule.

Varro: Fine *he quipped* better this way anyway. I don't want anyone saying I was not justified in what I want, and that I did not go through the proper motions to see this done in a civil manner. Take me there.

*Uxor nodded once he was ready. He wore the shimmering purple robe, and she did raise her brow at it*

Varro: *he noted her eyeing his attire* So they know I'm willing to go through this 'civil.' I don't want them to see me in armor and leap to defense. But I want them to know that they are standing in the way of an ambassador if they decide to try and interfer.

Uxor: I understand. And I will not permit them to interfer, but please don't do anything rash. I don't want to fight them off of you Varro, I really just want this to come to resolution. Everyone has been through enough over it... everyone.

*He nodded and offered his arm to her.* Varro: Best we come as a unified front, but non-threateningly.

Uxor: Agreed. I will take us. *In order for him to take them there by his Augur means, she knew now that he had to have some happy - or at least pleasent- thoughts of the location... memories... something he could latch onto. She stroked his arm and allowed her thoughts to drift to happy thoughts of Jaggie's home, of the care that Jaggie and Deriaz had for their forged brother and his well being. She couldn't suppress from Varro her words from the memory of her conversation with Deriaz and Jaggie prior to seeing Varro...*

Uxor: Deriaz, what is more important, love or friendship?
Deriaz: Well...since I've not had the first, I would definately say the second.
Uxor: Jaggie?
Jaggie: Friendship. You can't have love without friendship...
Uxor: Then you will understand when I say that I cannot prevent what Varro desires, for of him, I have both.
Jaggie: Hai *she nodded in understanding*
Uxor: But pray to your gods or whatever you hold dear that Varro feels the same of me, and will see reason in my words. If you try and stop him however, I will come between you, and you will see where love and friendship fall.

*As she considered these things, Varro had already set to willing them to the location of Jaggie's home, and the two materialized before Deriaz, Juryrig upon the floor, and Dalharil coiled around Juryrig's neck and chest. Uxor pressed her lips ever so slightly, and offered for the first time a thought of prayer. She was not certain if the Avatar could even hear her or cared to, but she thought it anyway.* <Please, if it is within your power to do so, help him make the right choice.>
*No reply came.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XI "The means and the end" Chapter 4

*Varro glared at Shiningeagle, the dwarf who now stood in his way of delivering that which the warforged deserved. The dwarf insisted that Juryrig was damaged, and in need of repairs*

Varro: There's no sense repairing something only to have it broken again afterwards *and he moved to the form of Juryrig* Agent Juryrig! *he hoped the words bit into the forged as much as he was biting them out. He hoped that the mere sound of his voice to the forged would be like a blade upon him to begin with. He made his demands of Juryrig.

The first thing he was going to correct was this insistance that Juryrig had in refering to the woman he loved as 'creature.' Creature. A warforged was a 'creature.' He knew that Juryrig would have no concept of that, but he did have concept of position and duty, and he would see to it that Juryrig would always refer to her with the respect she deserved.* ...You will refer to her as Ambassador Uxor....

*Voices in his head further irritated him. Cer calling for help. Zoltando calling for instruction. Varro this, Varro that, help with this, help with that. He was tired of it, and yelled to the voices - whether they could hear him or not - that he was through. Nothing was going to stand between him and his right. This was his right. He had the right to see satisfaction in the matter.

He was a man of words, of diplomacy, of social merit, but battle and doom, the destruction of the world or others...these were not his charge, and he was rather tired of others forcing things upon him as if he could set right the whole of the world. He was Augur. The Augur acted for the Avatar. The Ambassador spoke for fellowship. Neither of these things required that he was to be responsible for the well being of anyone in the first place. 'If they die it is on you' indeed, he would not put up with it.*

<I am not the whipping boy to the city. This WILL wait...> *but he felt that Cer had already shut him out. So be it. That meant he could be left to his right. He'd done enough, and he cared not at this point if blood were upon his hands. Cer's mention to him in his mind that the last time he had 'put off' a matter, Uxor had suffered, only served to infuriate him further. It was because everyone pulled his attention six ways from one point that it had come to that. It was because of his standing now that it had happened to her. It was his fault, and he was putting a stop to it. He was going to stop offering his service as Augur so freely. If people didn't hold him so importantly, Uxor would not be a target. If they could gain nothing by him, then she would be safer of it.*

*He stormed towards Juryrig and continued to lay down his requests. If Uxor was going to let the rest of them drag her down a path of danger, he was at least going to find extra ways to keep her safe.* ... you will protect Ambassador Uxor....

*Juryrig weakly confirmed all that was asked of the forged thus far. Now Varro came to his final satisfaction. He reached into his belongings and pulled out the morning star. It was a bane to constructs, and he knew that it would only take one blow from this weapon to quickly deliver that which he sought* ... and I am going to break your jaw. Then we will be even...

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XI "The means and the end" Chapter 5

*Shiningeagle's request was falling upon deaf ears. So too were the calls of Dalharil, who shrieked with insistance not to harm Juryrig.*

*Uxor frowned seeing Dalharil clinging to Juryrig, and at Shining's frustrations. It only made matters worse that Dalharil had been the cleric in the Jorasco healing wards to help mend she and Varro when they had been carried in on the verge of death from their tortures. Dalharil had taken it very hard that Juryrig was the cause of their suffering, for she had apparently befriended the warforged. Additionally was the fact that just the eve before, Shiningeagle had worked to protect Uxor from harm.

But to Varro, they were in his way... holding him back... keeping him from doing what he had the right to do. A right granted to him no less by the very being that had wronged him. How much more just could the situation be?

Shiningeagle emplored Varro for mercy for Juryrig. Mercy... that word inspired terrible wrath in Varro. Mercy...*

Varro: WHERE WAS MY MERCY WHEN MY FINGERS WERE BEING CUT OFF AS I WATCHED HIM CUTTING AWAY HUNKS OF UXOR'S LEG!! *he was on the verge of turning his words into a true weapon. This was his right. This was his justice. He would not be turned aside from it by do-good outsiders sticking their nose where it did not belong, in a matter that was sheerly in agreement by both the victim and offender. He had the mace poised above his head for the strike upon Juryrig* MOVE!

*Dalharil scrambled to put herself in the path of the hit, while Shiningeagle insisted upon being permitted to take the hit in Juryrig's place*

Varro: This is not your affair! This is between me, and the forged! *he snarled at Shining's request* What's say next time I'm watching the woman I love being tormented, that someone stand in to replace then, hm?

*Varro saw Uxor coming inbetween the mess of this, and he awaited what she would say. Agreeing with him. She emplored for Shiningeagle to stand down, and he felt somewhat empowered by her words that this WAS within his right to ask. He hadn't asked to kill the forged. He hadn't asked to mutilate it so far as he and Uxor had both endured. Even his request, painful though it would be to the forge, could be repaired. He'd half a mind to request that Juryrig be set to a vow of silence to make up for being the cause of Uxor having broken her vow. All this he could have asked, but he was not, and yet they looked upon him as if he were the incarnation of evil on the face of the world.... looked at him as if it were not within reason for him to ask this. He heard more noise behind all of them, and saw Juryrig pulsing with energy. Uxor saw it too, explaining to Shining that Juryrig would prevent them all from stopping this. Juryrig would kill himself to try and allow Varro his 'justice.' Nothing short of a command from Varro or Uxor themselves would stop Juryrig from that choice*

Shiningeagle: Then Varro had better change his request!

*Varro's eyes narrowed at that. Others were to be the one to decide how this would be ended? His whole being shivered with utter ire at this dwarf, and his words came out with unrelenting malice and intent*

Varro: I will watch that warforged die before I will see my request denied. I will not be denied my justice. Now move!

*Shiningeagle threw up his arms and howled with curses at Varro, and all manner of ill wish, and Varro spat at the notion. Who was the dwarf to have any say in this matter beyond what Varro and Juryrig agreed to. It was by Juryrig's own request he was here to 'dispatch justice.' He could very well have just killed Juryrig and have been rid of the trouble in the first place. But Uxor was correct... neither of them had died in the ordeal. This request was not out of the realm of reason, it was simply karma! That was Uxor's word for all creation, karma! THIS was karma! To be put to the justice of one you had wronged. Juryrig had shattered his jaw, and removed Varro's capasity to speak, and for Juryrig to endure the same was not beyond reason!*

*Uxor slid aside from Varro's path. There remained only Dalharil, clinging to the forged. Varro held the weapon aloft over them, starting down at her* MOVE!

*Dalharil held to Juryrig all the more furverently. He heard the forged trying to coax her off, telling her that this was right, that 'Minstrel Varro Velox' needed to give 'justice.' Varro stared down at the pair of them and his fist clenched on that morningstar so hard he was losing sensation in that hand. His good hand. The one good hand that this 'creature' had left for him. Images of the torment he had endured came to him readily, almost muting the flow of his Augur images. The joy of the world was being masked by the memory of Uxor's voice crying out his name, begging Juryrig for mercy on Varro's behalf. He stood over Juryrig with the weapon, and he watched Dalharil staring at him.*

*He stared back at her. She looked at him with determination not to move. Fine. He would strike them both. It was not as if she hadn't been warned, asked nicely, asked LESS nicely, and still if she was to be stubborn about this, it was her own doing.*

*The weapon hung in the air, awaiting him to dispatch justice. This was his right. Nothing stood between him and resolution. He stared at Dalharil with an expression meant to show her... he was not going to relent. She could not stop this. He was right, and he would NOT back down. He was not afraid to take her out in the process if she would not move. She still sat there, staring at him. The scene of Uxor's torture kept playing to him again and again - his eyes involuntarily shifted to Uxor as he loomed over the forge and tiny cleric at his feet - and the more he stared at Dalharil, the more one moment kept coming to him again....

<I will give you my soul, I will give up being Augur, I will do anything you ask, just please help her.>

and Uxor, begging for Juryrig to take her instead of him. Watching. Watching her and wanting nothing more than to stop it for her. Knowing that to watch him being subjected to his pain was more distress than all the fire, acid, blade, and all other things being done to her body... she was still calling his name over all of it. Her was Dalharil... watching him. Watching what he was going to do to her friend. Watching and being unable to change what was going to happen, but wanting more than anything for it to stop.

This was his right
This was justice
This was karma
This was balance
This was fair and agreed upon

Varro's arm came down, his white fist clenching the weapon, and the construct bane morning star passing through the air, to dangle at his side.*

Varro: *he practically muttered it as he stared at Dalharil* Why won't you move...

*Dalharil finally spoke* You know that it's wrong.

Varro: No. I just know how it feels.

*He let go of the weapon. It fell to his feet with a clatter, and he stared at the little cleric with her forged friend. There were still things he could ask of Juryrig that would give him a sense of contentment.* Agent Juryrig, you will protect Cleric Dalharil. And you will find out who hired you, why, and report this to me.
*He looked to Uxor, who had closed her eyes and breathed a long exhail of relief. She went to Juryrig and Dal's side, as the forged was in need of help now. Her eyes came to Varro just for a moment, but it was enough for him to know that she was pleased by his choice. Tenatively he reached out to his Augur images to look for happiness from her. He found it, and held to it a moment before speaking to her through these means.*

Varro: <You're trying to make a good person out of me yet, aren't you?>
Uxor: <I am trying nothing, this is your doing my love. I can't say I'm not happy though. Thank you.>
Varro: <I did it for you. I wanted for you what Dal now has for Juryrig. For it to stop.>
Uxor: <Then you gave me what I wanted for you too. Will you help him?>
Varro: <...yes. Dalharil saved you. I have what I want, and I will help her.>

*Uxor tended Juryrig, but very frequently her eyes came to Varro during their ordeal. She knew her love for him was re-enforced by his decision, and she knew such overwhelming happiness that he had put aside his revenge for her. She felt completely and utterly safe with him at last.*

[lenric]

Prologue: The Dream:

The monastery library was quiet and dark save for one burning candle in a sanct corner deep within the stacks of books. There sat silently sleeping a young dwarf of 80 years or so, his red beard neatly trimmed and lain across his lap a book so ancient its pages were yellow and its cover was warped. The book was opened to a page with a picture of an oversized Dwarf wielding a large hammer crackling with electricity, this man was Moradin, an all but forgotten ancient Dwarven god here in the world of Ebberon. Suddenly the pages of the book began to glow and a slight breeze filled the library. The God in the picture began to move and burst with a lightning flash out of the pages and in front of the still sleeping Dwarf. After closely examining the Dwarf for a few moments the God began casting a spell and entered the Dwarf’s dream.

Brunos’ had just crested a ledge on a snow capped mountain when he took a moment to look out at the scene in front of him. The landscape was beautiful even being able to see a lake off in the distance with a small village nearby. He thought he made out a caravan traveling a road just outside of the city. “Arriving this early in the morning, that lucky caravan will have a good day to rest,” he said to himself. Suddenly he heard a loud thundering noise, thinking it was an avalanche he turn back towards the mountain and looked up to see if it was coming his way. When he looked up he saw however not an avalanche but an oversized Dwarf wearing wonderful golden armor and holding a warhammer crackling with energy. He immediately recognized the figure “Moradin” he muttered under his breath.
“It is I Moradin,” the God’s voice boomed through the air giving Brunos a well deserved sense of awe. The God walked down the slope towards Brunos, “I must speak to you about a matter of great importance.”
Immediately dropping to a kneel in front of the God Brunos replied, “I would be honored to hear your quarry my lord.”
“It is an unfortunate circumstance Brunos, for I fear that I hardly hold the privilege to be called your God with my powers so weak. You see, centuries ago I had held an audience with the great Dwarven kings of the world. After that audience I had taken the opportunity of manifesting myself on in the world to walk around and see some of the great works of craftsmanship the people of this world had to offer. During that walk I was ambushed by a group of evil wizards with the aid of multiple Demons. My mighty hammer was stolen during that ambush and the wizards used their magic to send me back to the land of gods.” He took a moment of silence and the hammer he had been holding disappeared. “See you must understand that every god has a symbol of power and with that symbol lies the power that they hold. That hammer was my very essence. Without that hammer it was hard to keep dwarves devout to me and was near impossible to find new worshipers. Once my worshipers dwindled my powers did as well. I have become all but powerless now centuries later and have very few worshipers at all.” He motioned for Brunos to stand and put his hands on Brunos’ shoulders. “I have come to hear your prayers the loudest of those who still pray to me and as such I have chosen you to carry out an important mission.” Flustered and honored Brunos lowered his head and lost himself in his thoughts. “It is a mission not to be taken lightly. I have decided to use the last of my powers to declare you a Golden Warpriest, tis a position I have not granted in centuries and you shall be the only one of your kind. I give you the responsibility to fight for my name and the ultimate goal to find my hammer. Find my hammer and bring it to this mountain where I shall wait for you. Only then can I regain my power and become the true god I once was.” Moradin drops his hands off Brunos’ shoulders and raises Brunos’ chin to make eye contact with the dwarf. “Will you take this burden? Will you fight to raise me to the power I once had?” Stunned Brunos took a few seconds to let the speech settle in before replying.
“I will,” Brunos finally responds his eye tearing up at the honor just bestowed upon him. “I will fight for your name and I will find your hammer so that others can feel your power as I have come to believe.”
“So it is,” Moradin stated, “Your journey will start immediately, and to help you on your way you will receive a set of blessed golden armor as is only bestowed upon those who have been given the title of Golden Warpriest.” Upon finishing the sentence the God vanished with the same thundering clap that he appeared. Brunos left in shock at the encounter sat again on the ledge and looked out into the scenery with a new goal in his life. He would find the Hammer of Moradin and restore his deity to the power he once held. Suddenly he heard a mysterious voice bellow, “Brunos....Brunos wake up.”

Snapped back into reality Brunos looked up at the priest that had just awoken him.
“Brunos you better clean this place up before any of the high priests find you down here. Did you not make it to bed last night?” Now feeling disappointed thinking his encounter was only a dream Brunos stood quickly and thanked his friend for waking him.
“No, I must have fallen asleep here reading, I better get up to my room and put on my robes for morning mass.” Brunos rushed to clean up the area, he blew out the candle and placed it and the book into his sack before rushing out of the library and up the stairs with his friend. “I’ll see you in the main hall,” Brunos stated before parting ways from his friend. The walk down the dormitories hall way seemed longer than ever to Brunos as he thought about his dream and wishing it had been real. He finally came to the door to his room and fumbled through his hip pack for the key. After unlocking and opening the door he rushed into the room to change into his prayer robes so that he could make it to morning mass on time and avoid the demerits that would come with being late when a glimmer from his bed caught his eye. He walked across the room to find spread out on his bed a set of the most glorious armor he had ever lain eyes on. It was the color of gold and the breastplate bore an etched symbol of a hammer and anvil. A symbol Brunos readily accepted as proof that his dream was real, and that he was now a Golden Warpriest of Moradin.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 6
Faceless Visitor


Ragyr sighed, and continued staring at the ceiling in his small, rundown, one-room house tucked away on the roof of an abandoned building in the Marketplace. Pieces of paper were pinned all over the walls, on the ceiling, and some were on the floor. Some of them had red ‘X’s drawn over the faces, or just over the description if there was no picture.

He sighed again, and turned over, staring at the far wall. There were at least twenty sheets of paper alone on that wall, but they were shaped in the design of a circle. Each one had something in common: A face, or a description, of Deriaz. Ragyr shook his head. ‘Not Deriaz. . . Serpent. . . But Serpent’s dead. Jaggie and Liyra supposedly took care of him again. . . But the fact still remains that that body has bounties on its head, and I’m looking to collect. . .’

A loud knock at the door made him jump, and sit up quickly. He eyed the door cautiously, waiting to see if they would knock again. As he expected, a loud knocking came a second time. Ragyr grabbed his four-stringed Rebec, and swung it onto his back. He grabbed the Adamantine Maul sitting in the corner, and opened the door cautiously.

He couldn’t see anyone, so he peeked his head out again to get a better look. Again, there was no one. A piece of paper nailed to the door that he hadn’t noticed before made him jump. He cursed himself for being too nervous, and willed himself to relax. With a frown, he ripped the sheet of paper off of the door, and stared at it. There were notes, chords, and bars scribbled neatly down the page. A small arrow was in the corner, telling him to turn the paper over. He followed the direction, and his eyes were greeted to a message, written by someone with beautiful handwriting. ‘Play this for me~’ was all that it said.

Ragyr stared at it for a moment, and looked around again. He shrugged, and tossed the Maul back inside. Carefully, he placed the Rebec under his chin and held the sheet of music up in front of him. With his other hand, he grabbed the bowstring and studied the sheet music for a moment. His right foot tapped four times quickly, setting the beat of the song, and he played it with ease. The song was a cheery one, and he frowned at it. His usually songs were depressing, and slower. Once the song was complete, he lowered the Rebec and looked around. “Happy?” he said to no one in particular.

A sheet of paper fell from above. He caught it as it passed in front of his face. The paper held only one word, written in the same style of handwriting. ‘Yes.’

Ragyr gasped as someone’s white, metallic arms wrapped around his throat, pulling him back slightly. He cursed himself quietly for tossing the Maul back inside. A woman’s voice came to his ears, and it had a melodic quality to its sound. “You’ve gotten good at it,” she laughed.

Ragyr’s eyes widened. “Ac—“ he started, but stopped as the visitor shushed him.

“No, no, don’t say anything. Just listen to me, for a moment. . .

“I’ve been watching you. For seven months now. . . You and your little friend. . . What’s his name, Deriaz? You two haven’t been enjoying each other’s company, have you? He seems to be doing well, despite having a murderer try twice to get his body back. But you. . . You seem to be depressed. Sitting in graveyards, playing sad tunes to yourself.

“And that suicide. I wanted to step in. I really did. But for me to step in at that time would have made things worse. . . You should be glad that those two little Halflings, that Human, and that musical Forged Deriaz is so attached to were there. Or else I would have had to fish you out myself. Hehe. . .

“I’ve also seen the bounties on your wall, in the house,” she motioned to the door, “regarding Deriaz? Quite a price on his head. Adds up to about eighty thousand platinum, does it not? Would be nice to have. . .” She tightened her grip around Ragyr’s throat, though it wasn’t in a threatening way, and lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’d like that too, wouldn’t you? So. . . If I want it, and you want it. . . Listen up.

“I’ve been watching Deriaz just as much as I’ve been watching you. He’s got that weird mutating ability that Serpent used to show off, so a physical fight may not be the best. Then again, he doesn’t seem to want to hurt you, so that may work in your favor. That’s one option: Go straight for Deriaz. Catch him off-guard. He’s got a weak plate in the back of his head, down near the neck. Aim there, preferably with something that has a bane to constructs. Make sure he won’t wake up.

“Your second option is more of an emotional attack than a physical, though you—And maybe I as well—will have to still do a bit of labor. The music Forged. . . What’s her name?”

Ragyr paused for a second, still savoring the sound of the visitor’s voice. “. . . Jaggie. What about her?”

“Ah, right, Jaggie,” the visitor hummed to herself, “. . . She’s your second option. If you can get at her, you may be able to pull Deriaz to your will. You don’t have to hurt her. Just. . . Tie her up. Threaten Deriaz that you’ll kill her, or something. I don’t know. It’s a bit riskier of an option, because Jaggie may have her own defenses or friends, but it may be easier to get to Deriaz if you have Jaggie. I mean, why go for the head when you can go for the heart, hm?” she laughed. One of her arms left Ragyr’s neck, and Ragyr heard the shuffling of a pack. The sound of glass came to his ears. His first thought was a potion.

“I have to get going now, alright? You go ahead and get back to your plotting. . . I’ll be waiting,” she chuckled, and the second arm left Ragyr’s neck quickly.

Ragyr spun around, trying to see the visitor’s face, but she had vanished. And empty vial was lying on the ground. Ragyr cursed quietly. ‘Invisibility. . .? Maybe. . .’ He looked around again. ‘. . . But. . . She died. I watched her. . . A ghost, maybe?’

He stood outside for a moment, before slipping back inside to think of a plan to collect on the bounties.

[Lessah]

"The Prettiest Maidens Sing the Saddest Songs"


Morah, A bard’s tale

Prologue

Morah had broken out in a sweat keeping up with the other musicians. The pretty halfling with long blonde hair and soft beige eyes had been asked to play as part of a celebration for the Order of the Sword and Rose. Mopping the water from her brow, she glanced across what had become a dance floor. There, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed watching her, was Saldez Boromar. He had been in the Order’s infirmary under the care of clerics for several days following the incident where he rescued her from a group of halfling ruffians known as The Halfling War Counsel.

They were supposedly in Stormreach to procure the ingredients for a lethal poison whose purpose was the subject of much speculation among Order members as well as the Port Authority of Stormreach. Thus far, an official investigation had yielded no results.

Excusing herself from the stage, she practically ran across the dance floor to him. “My hero!” she said giving him a genuine hug and a warm smile.

“It doesn’t look like you were too lonely while I was out of commission.” he said in a half-hearted jealous remark.

She kissed him on the cheek and ran her fingers playfully through his hair. “Don’t be mean to me!” She teased, locking her arms around his waste she leaned close to him and whispered, “besides, you still owe me a night at the Golden Wing Inn.”

He smiled at this, took her by the hand and led her to the door of the atrium. “Why bother,” he began, “I bought a villa in House Jorasco.”

Morah squealed in surprise, “you’re kidding!”

The handsome halfling awarded her a reassuring smile, “would you like to see it?”

In response her facial expression dropped suddenly into a frown. “That depends,” she said with a hint of sarcasm, “on whether or not you are going to abandon me there for my own protection.” She said chiding him alluding to the last time he had asked her to stay with him over night he had made her stay alone in the Golden Wing Inn until she was kid-napped by the Yarbarrow’s.

He fixed Morah with a long overdue look of purposefulness, touched her cheek with the back of his hand and replied, “my Lovely, the only thing in danger this night is your virtue.” He kissed her ever so gently on the cheek and then the neck.

Morah responded at first with no words, and then said, “lead on my lord.” The pair disappeared under the watchful eye of the new moon.






Chapter 1 : The Halfling’s Conundrum

Saldez Boromar had been the favored son of the Boromar clan since he began winning races at a very young age. He distinguished himself in every athletic even he entered, often using his smaller halfling size and youthful appearance to lull his opponents into a false sense of security. In his early days of racing, this always resulted in the competition placing heavy bets in favor of his opponents. The athletic halfling considered it an insult to loose when the odds were against him and had accumulated a very respectable fortune from his winnings.

The Boromar clan had managed to utilize his fame to their advantage. Keeping the family name respectable with the city officials of Stormreach. After all, the Boromar were still establishing a foothold of organized crime in the budding city. Saldez was given logistical responsibilities for the clan’s very lucrative drug trade. It would be harvest time very soon, and the deep forest of tangleroot gorge had proven to be a more than adequate field for growing the Dream Lily, a flower that had hallucinogenic properties and was more than mildly addictive. The authorities of Stormreach recognized this, and were working to slowly eradicate it in its natural habitat, it was also highly illegal. This made it much easier for the Boromar clan to hone the market on the flower, and as a result, made them richer.

He sat on the grounds of the shooting range he had set up out of the way on the south reaches of House Jorasco. His bright blonde hair, which he kept very short, and even shaved the sides of his head occasionally, was dripping with sweat. He wore only a thin white shirt and leggings, and had stripped the shirt off after his long run and discarded it on the ground next to him. His green eyes were fixed on the trigger mechanism of the light crossbow he carried, his fingers busy fixing a spring that would make the device fire much faster.

Every moment would count in his upcoming Race of The Eight Winds, and shaving much needed seconds off of the devices’ reloading sequence would give him a slight advantage over the other racers. The weapon would be enchanted, he realized, so the damage it dealt would not kill his opponent. All the same Saldez wanted to send a clear message to the other racers that he intended to win.

Thinking about his upcoming race made his thoughts turn to his Glidewing. A great flying lizard of gray and green that had been hand picked for its ferocity and intolerance of other creatures. Saldez made a mental note to arrange to have his family transport the beast to Stormreach so he could work with it daily.

He heard a click then, and smiled to himself. The crossbow would now fire almost twice as fast and Saldez squared himself off with the target across the grassy field from where he stood, took careful aim, and fired 6 shots in rapid succession. It pleased the handsome young halfling that all of his bolts had found the target.

"Saldez!" A male voice called from the bottom of the rolling hill behind him. Pointing the crossbow down at his side, Saldez waved to cousin with a smile. "Well met Telano! I hope you bring good news with you, or did you simply come to watch me train?" He asked half teasing his cousin. Telano had saved Saldez’s life when they were children, and neither man had ever forgotten it. As a result, he favored his cousin with positions of greater responsibility and power within the family.

The little halfling approached, and Saldez’s expression changed immediately from welcoming to concerned. The halfling’s body was covered in dried mud and he had several scratches on his face and arms as if he had been crawling through coarse vines. He was equal in height, but less defined in muscle tone, and had shoulder-length black hair that was so dark it made his skin seem very pale especially with the contrasting redness of the scratch marks.
"What’s Happened?" Saldez asked.

Telano responded almost exhausted, "The south field, the one in the gorge, it’s been sacked!"

Staring at his cousin in sheer disbelief, Saldez responded, "What?" His cousin was referring to the crop of Dream Lilies that they had been working so hard to establish outside Stormreach. "How did this happen?" Saldez demanded trying hard to control the anger he felt growing within him.

"Last night," his cousin explained with fear still behind his eyes. "It was the Dassk, they surrounded the field and killed the guards! I narrowly escaped with my life!" He explained.

Saldez was already using all his mental discipline to control the rage he felt at loosing a very large portion of his income to invaders. He closed his eyes tightly, unable to corral his reaction to the immediate, intense anger he felt at the mention of the name Dassk. It was of a clan made up of fiendish brutes of goblinoids and ogres who mercilessly competed with the Boromars for control of the drug trade. They were long hated enemies of Saldez’s family and thus far had not made a real appearance in Stormreach.

The Dassk were too brutal, too notorious to be free to walk the streets of Stormreach. The presence of ogres and hobgoblins in the city would draw unwanted attention from the magistrate. Saldez thought to himself that something was missing.

"Who are they working with?" Saldez asked suddenly opening his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Telano asked not quite understanding.

Saldez looked around quickly, grabbed his cousin by the shoulder so Telano could walk with him towards the target he had been using for shooting practice. "Think about it Telano," he explained. "The Dassk didn’t take the field because they are addicted to Dream Lily, but they are far from conventional businessmen. It’s not like they can enter Stormreach."

"So the Dassk want control of the trade in this part of Xendrick." Telano reasoned.

"They wouldn’t mind seeing all of the Boromar clan dead either," Saldez added. "It seems to be an agreeable situation for them, using Boromar money and effort to gain power." It was a statement that gave Saldez renewed anger; it was his pocket that would be missing coins if he did not act quickly. Saldez had reached the target and began pulling his bolts out of it.

"What are we going to do?" Telano asked apprehensively as he watched Saldez wrap his crossbow bolts carefully into the quiver he carried and secured with a thin leather strap.

The Halfling looked his scarred cousin up and down. "Get yourself cleaned up," Saldez ordered. "Make some inquiries with our city contacts," he explained. "I want you to find out who is working for the Dassk in Stormreach."

"I will Sal," he paused, "what of you cousin?"

Taking a deep breath the young Saldez furrowed his brow, "I have to go see Popi, I need more men." He explained with utter seriousness on his face referring to the head of the Boromar clan in Stormreach, "If the Dassk want war, I’m going to give it to them."

They agreed they would meet later at the Phoenix Tavern, and Telano ran off towards the warded gates that would take him out of the Jorasco province. Saldez began making his way back to his villa thinking of how he was going to break the news to Popi, his great uncle, that the family had suffered a major loss. From his small, private garden in the back, he could hear Morah’s harp. He reached his villa, and sat on the stairs trying to allow the music to drown out some of his more troubling thoughts. The task ahead, he knew, was going to be far from easy.

The music stopped and he heard Morah open the arched door behind him. The pretty bard looked down at him with a trace of amusement in her golden eyes and her blonde hair falling around her face, "are you alright?" She asked.
He shook his head to indicate that he was and entered his home. Morah had taken the liberty to lay out fresh clothing for him, as well as a basin with warm, soapy water for washing up. He said nothing to her as he absently started using it. Instead his thoughts were on Popi, a shrewd businessman who could be quite brutal if he needed to be. He would want action, and he would expect Saldez to have a plan to solve this problem. It was something the athletic young halfling was still thinking about when he walked into his kitchen.

"How did it go?" He heard Morah say from behind him.

"What?" Saldez broke from his thoughts.

She asked again, a bit more timidly, "your practice, I trust it went well?" Morah could see the distraction in him, in truth the girl was still worried that he would decide he wanted to be all-alone in his new home. He had not said anything to her either way thus far, and he seemed very distant now. She had no desire for him to pick this moment to send her back to Lessah’s tiny apartment, so she began looking around for something to do.

"I need a favor," Saldez said finally.

She nodded her head and smiled a bit, "of course my lord." She said and sat down at the table to slice some bread.

He went into his study and grabbed a coin purse that had been very generously filled with gold. "I need bolts for my bow. There is a craftsman in the House Denith whose skills are unmatched," he explained placing the bulging purse in her small hands. "Would you do this for me Lovely?" He caressed her cheek quickly.

Morah nodded her head slowly in reply, never taking her eyes from his. Something was wrong, something was there, but the girl could not place the situation properly. Saldez leaned into her then and lightly kissed her forehead. "I appreciate this, you have no idea." He took a slice of bread from the table and walked out the door pausing only for a moment, he turned and said over his shoulder, "I’d like to see you in a new dress by the time I come back."

Closing the door he took off at jog in order to close the distance between himself and the House Kundrak as quickly as possible. He knew his great uncle, called Popi by almost all of the family, the man would be having his noon meal very soon inside the Anvilfire Inn.

House Kundrak was unique with its structure and architecture. The entire community was quite literally all gray, with high walls of stone, paved streets and grand staircases and bridges that seemed to reach right into the sky. Running past a cache of great stone pillars he made his way up a tiered stairway that would lead to the Anvilfire Inn where Saldez hoped he would be able to seek a private audience with Popi.

Inside the tavern, however, customers were everywhere. They lined the long foyer eating their noon meals on free-standing tables, and all the barmaids were hustling around trying to fill the orders of their customers. The longer tables were also filled with patrons. One long table in particular, was laden with dwarves drinking dwarven ale and singing of a grand adventure they had just returned from. Saldez held his breath as he passed them as they smelled of swamp and bog water.

In the rear of the tavern was a private dinning room with one long table set in it. Saldez pushed the door open lightly and peered in to see if his uncle was there. "We need more wine and more bread!" A booming male voice declared before its owner could see Saldez.

In the center of the table lengthwise, sat Popi, a middle-aged halfling with a double chin and a puffy face. His silver hair grew only on the sides of his head, leaving the rest quite bald and shiny, and his beady dark eyes were set way back in his head. The man recognized that the person entering was his nephew and not a waitress as he had hoped.

"Sal my boy!" He greeted the young halfling, "make yerself useful and fetch me a waitress!"

Turning around to search for a waitress, Saldez thought that he might argue the point, but decided against it. Bad news is best served with more wine, he reasoned, and he flagged a busy, tired waitress down. He ordered the bread and wine and awarded the tavern maid a few extra coins for the trouble.
"She’s on her way uncle." Saldez said as he entered the room again. On either side of Popi, were two very young and beautiful girls, twins, Saldez realized. They each had long brown hair and brown eyes, and wore matching toga dresses that had been dyed a beautiful light green. On Popi’s right the twin sat pouring what was left of the flask of wine into his glass. On his left, the twin was standing over him pulling grapes off of their stems.

Saldez bowed a bit to the ladies, and addressed Popi, "I am afraid I have grave news Uncle," Saldez began uncomfortably, not wanting to discuss business in front of anyone other than family. He looked to the girls and then back at Popi who immediately understood.

"Ladies, take a breather!" Smiling and waving to the twins he said, "yes goodbye beautiful girls…" He wiped his face and mouth with a napkin, and threw it down on the table as the twins made their way past Saldez, smiling at him and giggling to each other a bit as they did. "Now," he began, "what’s so bloody important that my lunch must be disturbed?" Saldez explained the situation, and watched his uncle’s face turn to a look of utter disgust.

"Aye, things were too good for too long," Popi reasoned, "It was only a matter of time before the Dassk showed their ugly, thieving heads." He fixed Saldez with a serious expression, "what do you want to do boy?"

He leaned across the table to his great uncle, "let me use the boys, Popi, let me take back the field before it is too late!"

Looking down at his wine and swirling it experimentally, Popi retorted, "it may already be too late Sal, going back to the gorge is certain death, even with an army, and what are ye to do even in that case?" The man argued, "You gonna make such a ruckus that all o’ Stormreach is gonna come running after ye! Is that what you want fer yer family son?" Popi fixed the young halfling with a look that suggested he wanted Saldez to think of another option.

Never wavering in his stance, or looking away, Saldez answered. "So the field is lost then Uncle? Without a fight?" He could not believe the Boromars of Stormreach would be taken advantage of so easily.

"Did ye hear me say that boy?" Popi scolded his nephew. "Stop letting yer anger do the thinking, and start looking at the long term." Popi leaned forward and explained further, "If you think you got what it takes to reason with a stinking Dassk and work out a deal, then go ahead and do it!" He pointed a finger in warning at Saldez as he spoke, "you’ll be dead afor the first words get passed yer lips! Yer in over yer head boy, and there ain’t no easy way out of this mess."

Saldez looked down trying to understand why his uncle would not be faster to defend his own territory, and then asked, "what if I am unsuccessful in negotiating with them Uncle?

"Have ye not heard a word I’ve said boy?" Popi yelled at him, "Let me give this one to ye slow so there’s no mistake. I don’t want those bloody ogres making even one copper off of Boromar labor." He lowered his voice and leaned very close to Saldez across the table, "you get it all back, or ye burn it, all of it, and better luck next harvest." Popi concluded implying that this would be a very costly lesson for the handsome halfling, and with a sharp wave of his hand, he dismissed his nephew.

Saldez walked out of the dinning area into the tavern. He could not understand why Popi would so easily let go of so much profit, but he also understood that his great uncle did not come by his position lightly.

The twins placed them selves in front of him as he was making his way to the tavern’s door, "Are you leaving so soon Master Saldez?" One of them asked. The second twin came very close to her sister and placed her arm around the girl’s waste suggestively and pressed her forehead against the girl’s cheek.
"Can’t you stay a bit longer?" The other twin added.

He bowed slightly and smiled, "ladies I am afraid I cannot, I have pressing business that wont wait."

They frowned slightly, and the first twin remarked, "then let us wish you luck for your next race." The girls flanked him on either side, and lightly kissed his cheeks simultaneously running a hand over his shoulder and down his back.
"There’s more luck where that came from." The second twin whispered very close to his ear, and the girls walked back toward the private dinning room.

Saldez looked around and realized that a dozen or so envious patrons were watching him intently. One halfling male wearing glasses and sitting alone was shaking his head in harsh judgement. Saldez realized he was one of the writers for the Stormreach Chronicle, most likely preparing his next scandalous story fueling evidence that the halfling was a playboy. Saldez shook his head in utter disbelief of how he manages to get himself into such messes. He left the tavern and made his way down the long path that would take him out of the gates of Kundrak.

His cousin Telano was waiting for him just on the other side of the gate. "There you are!" Telano exclaimed, "I was afraid I might have missed you!" Telano seemed anxious to share information.

"What news cousin?" Saldez asked, not wanting to spill Popi’s cryptic orders to the man just yet.

"I have a name, of the man who is managing Dassk interests in Stormreach." He explained. "He’s a thug, and rumored to be an escaped prisoner, but from where my sources could not say." Telano admitted, "in any case, his name is Corvile. We might find him doing business at the Leaky Dingy or in the harbor along the warehouse district."

Saldez flinched, the last time he had been to the harbor, he had to battle with the Halfling War Counsel for his life as well as Morah’s. It was a sticky situation he did not want to repeat, and the Stormreach harbor was far from his favorite place.

"Did you get permission from Popi to use the men?" Telano added hopefully. "When do we attack the Dassk?"

Saldez explained to his cousin what had transpired at his meeting with Popi. They walked along the West side of the Marketplace, making their way to Silversmith Road, which would lead them through the Marketplace proper, past the open-air vendors that was overlooked by Lessah’s small apartment, and through the city gates to the harbor district.
***

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XII "A New Proposition" Chapter 1

*Varro stared at the sands as he enlightened Tyr to her position in the world. He’d taken her to the only place he was relatively certain of privacy... the desert, beneath the small runty tree.*

Tyr: Then there is a real possibility I’m going to end up dead

Varro: *he sighed at having to relate this to her. In the time he’d spent mending her shattered psyche, he’d come to think on her as kin. Now one he considered family was a target for certain, and he had to be level with her concerning it* Yes. I’m sorry to come to you with this but I felt you had a right to know. The trouble is with the evidence I’ve gathered it conflicts with the answers. If it is Mekari trying to kill you, this is not her way. She would never bring harm to me; Uxor probably, but not me. All her work is to protect me. If it is those she works for however, I would be dead. It doesn’t make sense for them to hire one like Juryrig. In either case Tyr, I’m no longer certain how much protection I can offer.

*The two of them sat quietly a moment... she absorbing his news that her life was being hunted... he considering who was hunting her. Then his thoughts turned elsewhere.*

Varro: Mind if I ask you something a little less depressing?

*Tyr nodded to him*

Varro: I am considering asking Uxor to be my wife. I suppose that’s not so much a question but...

*Tyr beamed a smile at him* But what?

Varro: I don’t know that now is the most appropriate time to try to do something like that, in light of what all is going on.

Tyr: Brotherman... don’t wait until it is too late. Live life now. You go to her right now and ask her!

*At first Tyr’s suggestion seemed rash, but then he reflected on when he thought Uxor and he were going to die in that room... lying broken and helpless, waiting for the end. Did he really want to wait until once more there was a blade to his or Uxor’s throat before he had the chance to wed her?*

Varro: You’re right. We’re going. Now. *he stood up, motioning for Tyr to come to his side so he could transport both of them with a scroll*

Tyr: Can we make a detour first to the courier?

Varro: For you Sister, anything *he grinned and put an arm round her. This woman he owed much to. He let his thoughts roam to happy times of he and Uxor helping to teach her to be calmer, thus rescuing her from her self-imposed insanity. They materialized in his home with these thoughts. It would be no trouble to take Tyr on her detour to the courier box, for he had to locate Uxor. He scanned his Augur images closely for sign of her, but he knew that if she were not presently experiencing direct happiness or other such sentiment, she would not show to him. Then he rolled his eyes as he walked with Tyr through town, letting her tend to her errand. He was doing this the stupid way. He could either sift through billions of images of the pleasures of all in the lands... or he could simply find others of the guild who might have seen her. He knew too that Juryrig would be with her, so she ‘should’ be safe. He decided that the best place to start was the Phoenix, and he and Tyr set off to the tavern*

-----((Chat Transcript))----

Varro: *came striding into the Phoenix with Tyr in tow. He stalked back to his usual table, looking around, looking for Points* Points... *Not getting a response, he tries again* Points man, are you drunk? Where is Uxor? Where are you?

Ruse: *stands up suddenly as Varro and Tyr come walking in, and moves towards Tyr trying to gage the weight of whatever has caused the two to come in*

Tyr: Sunshine! *looks over at the black-haired woman in grey... and the elaborately painted face*

Ruse: *reaches her hand to Tyr, and following Varro, rather forgetting about Uma*

Varro: *looked round to see who else was in the tavern, and comes stalking towards the remains of Sprue and Dalius, both seeming a bit ... off* You two, have you seen Uxor?

Sprue: *hanging on the ladder beneath him, she looks up and stares into Varro’s nostrils, laughing so hard she loses her grip and falls to the lower level of the Phoenix*

Varro: *rolls his eyes at Sprue, thinking her to be completely blitzed*

Darius: Varro *he nodded* she’s in the guildhall right now. It does not seem a welcome place, and I was thinking of returning to Khorvaire for a while. Apparently I’m not welcome.

Varro: *he offers Darius a low bow* My apologies. It seems that recent strife among the ranks may impact our welcome to you my fine dwarf. I must say, you’ve shown us ample service. I greatly apologize, but I have a matter that cannot wait unfortunately. Thank you for your help.

Darius: Silver tongued as the reports say. You do amuse me, Velox.

Varro: I do that which I am required... and smoothing over the shortcomings of my fold well.... that is among them.

Points: *stumbles into the Phoenix, brushing at spider webs on this clothing.* HAIL ALL! GREET THE LUCKIEST ELF IN STORMREACH!

Darius: *stares at points* Well, look what the spider dragged in?

Points: *continues to brush at web* does it show?

Varro: *bows to those present* Well well Points... would I could stay for your good luck, but I have my own to tend

Points: *abruptly, he goes streaking out the door. Points is very quick*

Varro: *gives Points an odd look as he goes flying by. He heads out of the Phoenix, and stalked along the city streets, glancing back to see if Tyr was with him still. He arrives at the guildhall, pushing the doors open*

Points: *Tyr senses fear from the direction Points ran*

Tyr: *Practically sprints after Varro, but stumbles at the threshold of the guildhall* Points?...

Varro: *He walked towards the sound of Uxor and Cerulean talking, stalking straight for them*



Uxor: So... tell me what you have learned in relation to the visions of your forest? Of the key? Of the bear?

Cerulean: ... that doesn’t matter... they do not exist. Perhaps neither do I. But I accept that the path is there, and so is the bear, and the key, and the tree that we all must see felled in our path. I am ready to walk and simply see what is at the next step.

Juryrig: *stands up quickly in readiness. Blue shards begin to pulsate wildly as he fixates on the doorway*

Cerulean: Now speaking of... prepare for potential conflict. It’s just life getting in the way of our best laid plans. *smiles* he does love you very very much.

Uxor: *looked past Cerulean and Juryrig to the doorway that had both of their attentions*

Varro: *he walked into the side area where the little group of Cerulean, Uxor, and Juryrig were gathered, looking them all over*

Cerulean: Greetings Varro *smiles*

Varro: Seeker *he nodded to Cerulean* Agent Juryrig *he nodded to Juryrig, then stalked straight for Uxor*

Juryrig: *ignores Varro somewhat, intently staring at the doorway* Greetings Minstrel Varro Velox

Uxor: *had been seated on the ground across from Cerulean, and looked up with a broad smile at Varro* I didn’t expect you here, but I’m happy

Juryrig: *returned to a kneeling position, but the blue shards pulsate around leaking rivulets of oil*

Varro: *reached a hand out to Uxor, who took it unquestioningly, and he helped her to her feet*

Uxor: *As she stood, she felt something inbetween their palms...small and round. She looked at Varro with a raised brow, then down at her hand, but had no time as he kissed her fully, followed by saying*

Varro: I want you to wear this.

Cerulean: *stays quiet on his own, understanding beforehand*

Uxor: *she blinked at the item in her hand... the band of a ring, set with a red stone, and one that she most certainly recognized* I ... I can’t wear that... that was...

Varro: I gave it, and it was mine to keep when she fell. I have worn it until now... for I want you to wear it *he lifted his chin very matter of factly*

Uxor: This is *she trailed off, staring at Endaria’s ring in her palm*

Varro: What it is.. .is for the Lady Velox... if she’ll accept it.

Tyr: *unclenches the tension that Points sudden mental spike of fear induced, and remembered the parcel in her hands. She knew she’d need her hands free quite soon, so she unwrapped it, and flung the blue cloak from within the parcel over her shoulders, admiring the pretty silver sword worked in the fabric. The smaller package contained a matching brooch.* Ruse... these must be from Ruse *her smile on her face as she stepped into the guildhall, catching the last of what Varro was saying and doing. She laughs aloud as she comes closer to Varro, almost within arm’s reach* Say the words, Brotherman!

Cerulean: *Not intruding, but not silent either, feeling the energy of the room* Now’s the time to say the words.

Varro: *he glanced back to Tyr, then to Cer, followed by folding Uxor’s hand over the ring, as the form of Juryrig went streaking by them* Be my wife.

Juryrig: *glares at Tyr, moving toward her in great speed* We are under ATTACK! *unleashing his sword into a locked position, and running it through Tyr, tackling her in the process*

Cerulean: *wonders if to cast a hold person was his ‘path’ or if he must not interfer, and let Juryrig do this on his own*

*Varro and Uxor both turned round, calling out orders to Juryrig*

Varro: AGENT JURYRIG! That is not a threat!

Uxor: Jury, no, no!

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XII "A New Proposition" Chapter 2

Tyr: *reels back at the sudden surge from the warforged, surprise more than anything else written on her face as a bubble of blood pops on her lips*

Cerulean: *Boisterously laughs at the whole thing. It simply... is*

Juryrig: *started to pummel Tyr with his free hand* Sword of Liberty!!

Varro: *fumbled through his belongings until he found his lute, and began to play music, which wafted through the hall towards Tyr and Juryrig. He cringed, trying to make his hand work the way it needed to. It was very painful, but Tyr’s capacity to be in one piece depended upon it*

Juryrig: *stopped striking Tyr, his sword still impaled in her remains, motionless*

Varro: F... *he set to a torrent of cursing, trying to heal Tyr’s wounds with bardic healing*

Tyr: *tries not to exhale, as each breath burbles around the blade in her torso*

Varro: *snapped at anyone who tried to approach* BACK!

Uxor: *came and tried to pull Tyr out from beneath Juryrig’s form*

Cerulean: *knowing an old trick, casts feather fall, making the heavy weight now light as a feather, and making Tyr and Juryrig easily seperable*

Uxor: *Between their efforts, and Varro’s healing, she manages to seperate the two*

Tyr: *turns an interesting shade of grey, mouth moving to form a word, but no sound, only pink froth* sssss.

Juryrig: *stared in hatred, unable to act. Blue shards pulsate frantically*

Varro: *knelt down to Tyr, so long as Juryrig was contained, and set to trying to pump more positive healing energy into her to further her progress away from parting the world*

*Ruse face is painted in fear, feet barely touching the ground in her magic-aid run. When the door is thrown wide by her slight weight, she takes in the scene in the main hall quickly.* Tyr!! *she cries*

Juryrig: *struggles to try and break from his mental bonds, and tries to focus his energies inwards.

Varro: *looked up to see Ruse. Undoubtedly, Tyr must have contacted her mentally...in distress no less. He wasn’t certain of the wisdom of that per say, for this was probably the last thing Ruse would want to see.* Get her out of here *he motioned to Tyr* take here somewhere for healing, but don’t speak of where you are going.

Cerulean: *calmly, he teleports himself to the Jorasco healing wards to speak with the head cleric, but explains to the healers that the location must be somewhere unknown.*

Varro: *he approached Juryrig, aware that Juryrig was able to hear him* Agent Juryrig...I will release you, but only if you relent your attack. If you do not... I WILL extract my justice from you directly

Ruse: *Varro’s sleeve was tugged quickly by the bard, whose face was already tracked with tears. She seemed to try to formulate words, but fails, noticing the blood on Juryrig’s arm blade*

Varro: *looked down at Ruse* Ruse... Ruse, I want you to stay with her, alright?

Cerulean: *he returned, taking both Tyr and Ruse with him. Blinking in and out, he retrieved the additional help the d’Jorascos required*

Juryrig: *strains against his bondage, oil pooling around him quickly*

Varro: *started to play a different song for Juryrig, then asked him questions* Agent Juryrig, why did you attack her?

Juryrig: *strained a little less* She is a Sword of Liberty, and I must protect Ambassador Uxor

Varro: Listen to me... very carefully... Tyr... is NOT... a Sword of Liberty. What you were told of her is wrong. Why do you keep insisting that? What evidence do you have that she is? You **** righteous ones and your blindness to the world... that is what I love about you *he grumbled* all are the criminal if you are told by someone with a bigger... rank... than you.

Juryrig: *winces as oil pours out of different seams* She is wearing the cloak and pin of the Swords of Liberty. They wear that when they attack.

Varro: The... *he stopped a moment*

Juryrig: They kill others...they murder...they suicide...they blow up...

Varro: Agent Juryrig, I have a strong reason to believe that someone is trying to sabotage Tyr and kill her... and I believe that one is my mother *he huffed* the one you call Agent Elana. Agent Juryrig, do I have the capacity to change my justice... as you have two remaining tasks...to protect Ambassador Uxor and Cleric Dalharil...*it was not as effective, but he gave a small bit of healing energy to Juryrig*

Juryrig: *quit fighting his bonds, and surrendered himself*

Varro: Juryrig...answer me... can I alter my request of justice?

Juryrig: Justice is yours, Minstrel Varro Velox *spoken in a whisper*

Varro: Very well Juryrig...you will no longer be the personal guard to Ambassador Uxor. You will simply cease trying to harm I, Uxor, or Tyr, period. Do you understand my justice?

Juryrig: I do not.

Varro: You have wronged I and Uxor...you know your orders were false, and thus you know Tyr is no Sword of Liberty. And additionally... you know that someone is trying to plant false information. The one who is doing it is trying to kill Tyr for their own selfish reasons.

Juryrig: You chose not to explain these things before Minstrel Varro Velox. You said... I was better NOT knowing.

Varro: Well had I know that you have absolutely and utterly no capacity to reason out the world around you... *he snarled* So in order to help you fulfill your justice to me, I am revising the wording to help you understand it.

Juryrig: *finally breaks free of his magical containment, and stares at the floor impassively*

Varro: That wording is... that I am no Sword of Liberty. Neither is Uxor. Neither is Tyr. There is an agent of the Dreaming Dark working to kill Tyr. Rather than actively working to protect Uxor... as my intent was for her safety, but she is obviously going to put herself in harms way every time you try to help her *he glanced at Uxor, who was quiet* You are actively going to not harm I, Uxor, or Tyr. Do I make myself clear?

Juryrig: I reject your new orders Minstrel Varro Velox.

Varro: You avoid my justice then?? You mean to tell me that you are actively going against my right?

Juryrig: I accept the original justice. This is not your justice.

Varro: Oooh, I see. This is not my justice. Tell you what... my justice is for you to not be a **** idiot and blindly leap to conclusions *he sneered*

Juryrig: *stares at his forearm blade*

Varro: If that woman dies, you have killed an innocent. I hope you’re comfortable with that.

Juryrig: I have performed my duties according to your justice, Minstrel Varro Velox. But there is no satisfying your justice. If she would have killed Ambassador Uxor, I would have failed your justice.

Varro: I am tired of your means of following orders. All I want... is for you to leave the woman I love alone... and for you to leave alone my sister... and be gone from our lives. That is what I want. She wasn’t going to kill Ambassador Uxor, I brought her here.

Cerulean: *reappeared* Ambassadors, a word please.

Varro: Yes yes, ALWAYS a word...*he turned toward Cerulean* out with it, what else do I have to do, hmm??

Juryrig: *retracts a still bloodied blade into his forearm, and stares at the floor*

Varro: Actually... no. Wait a moment *he stopped from moving toward Cerulean, and instead turned to face Uxor*

Cerulean: *is shocked at his courage to do this now, and proud as well for it*

Varro: *he held his palms out to her as if in surrender* Uxor... this is the life you’ll be signing onto. Constantly being tugged by the wills of the world, always under the blade of whoever is out to kill the Augur, or the son of Mekari... and I am sorry for it. So... that is what I have to offer you, and I am sorry.

Uxor: I will *she said quietly*

Varro: *he blinked at her, speechless for once*

Cerulean: *even in this tragic day, a big grin is on Cerulean’s face*

Uxor: *moved to Varro, slipping the ring upon her index finger. She took his face in her hands, kissing him softly and saying* Tend the others. I am going nowhere. I will still be here when you are done. If you are never done... I will still be here, and I will come to you, should you wait too long. *she then calmly approached Juryrig*

Cerulean: *to Varro* Ambassador then, let me give you some more good news. In private.

Varro: *stared after Uxor. Out of habit, his head roamed over to Cerulean in a daze*

Cerulean: *placed his hand on Varro’s shoulder, to teleport them away, whispering ‘congratulations’ before the five activation words*

Varro: *did not resist the teleport, but he seemed a bit out of it*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XII "A New Proposition" Chapter 4

*Uxor watched the skyscape drifting. Airships used to make her nervous, but of late, she had come to terms with many of her worldly fears. This was another behind her now. Beside her, Varro was napping. How he could sleep on one of these was beyond her. They could not travel using his Augur travelling technique - which she didn't entirely understand. He told her great distances were much more difficult for him to bridge, and that to board an airship like 'normal folk for a change' would not be a bad thing. Looking at him, her mind reflected back to his words before their venture*

Varro: If you want to renew that vow of yours, now is probably the best time. I don't know that you'll get another chance the way everyone constantly tugs at us.
Uxor: *she smiled a little, reaching for his hands. It seemed she always did this when she had something important to tell him, and perhaps he would always know something was coming in this way. Irregardless, she spoke* I will give up my vow for you.
Varro: No... you won't *he lifted her hands and kissed both of them*
Uxor: But you gave up your right to punish Juryrig, and for me even. It would be my karma to give up my vow for you.
Varro: I told you once, I don't care about karma, I care about you. It's no less true now just because we're not dying.
Uxor: I thought you would be happy... *she looked down a little, completely confused by his response*
Varro: I asked you to be my wife. This means all that you are. My giving up bashing the daylights out of that forged was not me giving up a way of life. This is your way of life Ux. I knew you...loved you even...when you were not speaking. You said yourself that one day your vow will have served its purpose. I will be there for that day.
Uxor: Then I will give you a gift. I will speak for our wedding. The last of my speech will be for your memory. Then I will travel to make my vow.
Varro: Yes about that... I'm coming with you.
*Uxor raised a brow*
Varro: I said renew your vow, but I'm going to see what I can do for making that go easier.
Uxor: You can try but it's a ceremony Varro. I don't even know if you would be allowed to be there. I don't even know if I can continue my vow if I am married. I am going to find out though. But... I would appreciate having you there, and if not there for the vow, at least to travel there with me.
Varro: One way or another Uxor, I am going to see that we are wed. Either by your priests - or whatever they are - or ... something.
Uxor: I don't know Varro. I've never seen it before... but I've never asked of it, and it's never come up before either. This is as new to me as it is for you. *she stopped a moment* You don't wish for us to marry before our friends? The guild?
Varro: Nothing is going to stand in the way of this for us. When we return, I promised them we would have a party, but for now... this moment is not about them, it is for you and I. What's more, since you cannot remember your first marriage, I want to at least give you a wedding in line with your beliefs. I have non per say, and so long as I throw a party, that lives up to my Avatar's end of the situation.
*She nodded in understanding and leaned into him, whereat he coiled his arms round her. No matter how often he said the words, to hear him say he loved her always eased her.*

*With Varro napping beside her, and thinking on his choices, she was inclined to put her hand on his... but she thought the feel of her cold skin might rouse him from sleep. Instead she rested her hand on his sleave, to have contact with him, but allow him to continue resting. Her mind roamed over what they had yet to face. What would her master say? Did taking a husband mean leaving her path? If it did...she would leave it...but what then? There was a long way yet to travel in the airship.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XII "A New Proposition" Chapter 3

*They appear in a room mostly in darkness outside, except within are Tyr, Ruse, and the clerics, mostly done with their work now.*

Cerulean: *leans to Varro* she is going to be fine.

Varro: *he was there, but his attention was not in focus in the least as he looked around*

Cerulean: I’ll need all non essential cleric support out please *takes some of the cleric staff back, returning to the love-shocked Varro after this transport*

Tyr: Brotherman

Varro: *came back around at the sound of ‘brotherman’ and looked for the source.*

Ruse: *waves Varro over, smearing tears over her face with her other hand*

Cerulean: *guides the still shocked Varro over, glad that he’s staying*

Varro: *he crouched down to Tyr’s side* Sister...

Tyr: *to Varro* Mercy...

Varro: *he sat quietly by her side, saying nothing*

Ruse: What happened? *looking at Tyr’s face, but speaking to Varro*

Tyr: *whispered again* Mercy.

Varro: Mercy *he muttered absently*

Cerulean: Ruse...Varro has gone through a lot... even more than this right now...is it alright if I tell you myself? *and he set to telepathic talk*

Ruse: *Put an arm around Varro, nothing more than that, and her other hand once again rests on Tyr’s cheek*

Varro: What mercy shall I give?

Tyr: For...forged.

Varro: *he looked at Tyr a moment longer.* Done. *he watched Tyr* I will grant the warforged mercy. If he tries to kill you again... what am I to do Tyr?

Tyr: Stop. Being. So *pauses, swallows to clear her throat* responsible.

Varro: I don’t understand.

Tyr: *drags a hand up, lets it rest on her chest so she can point a finger up at Varro* Love your woman. Live your life. Today.

Cerulean: Varro, you’re not the only one here. Your ... future wife taught me a lot about burdens. Let us help you. Let all the guild that can, assist you. You don’t have to run everything. Friends help each other out, and our goal is to keep joy going. Taking all this alone will only hurt yours. Your future wife will agree.

Varro: Sister... she will be my wife *he managed a smile, and had apparently forced out concern over anything else in that moment.*

Tyr: *finds enough energy to lift her fingers to touch Varro’s cheek*

Varro: *when she made physical contact with him, a wave of sensation passed to her, and it was not of the Augur images. Guilt. He had been carrying much weight from Endaria’s death, and apparently considered himself a large part of her demise.*

Tyr: *the words that came to his mind were the same she had offered to Juryrig* <You are not a monster.>

Varro: *Varro broke beside Tyr. Nothing had been said aloud between them, but he was wracked with sobs*

Cerulean: *Just holds Varro with the others reminding him he is not alone*

Ruse: *her eyes change, not exactly becoming softer, but soft in another way as she looks at the broken down Varro. She rubs his shoulder* Varro *she says tenderly* go to Uxor...please.

Varro: It’s my fault! I’m the one who lives this way! I’m the one who chose to be an ambassador! I’m the one who chose to serve the Avatar...

Tyr: *lets Varro finish his rant without interrupting*

Cerulean: *says nothing but has that far away look again*

Varro: I didn’t have to... I could have passed it up! I could have just been with her... just the two of us! No cities... no duties...*it was difficult to say if he was speaking of Uxor or Endaria...perhaps both*

Ruse: But now it is the two of you... with cities and duties...but still the two of you, and isn’t that what counts?

Cerulean: *he sighed, deciding to speak in the vocal* And I had that choice too. But you know the type of person we are. We can’t deny what we truly are. It just is. All of us are in this as family, and it’s time you stop acting like the crazy uncle, and start acting like the ambassador WITH guild members by his side! *loving firm* Now stop this pity party and START a REAL party! We have a FEW people getting married!

Varro: *heard Cerulean’s words, and Ruse’s, but he was as yet engrossed with a mental conversation with Tyr*

Tyr: <You are not a monster, Brotherman. Love your woman.>

Varro: <I do love her. I would die for her.>

Tyr: <Don’t die for her ... live for her.>

Varro: *he seemed to be letting the realization of all that had happened sink in better, and managed to say aloud* She said yes...

Cerulean: Should I take Varro home?

Varro: No. I will take myself to Uxor.

Cerulean: Ah it’s finally hitting him. About time. Welcome back.

Varro: *leaned over and kissed the top of Tyr’s head* Sister.

Tyr: Brotherman.

Cerulean: Did you two want to make an announcement, or should we tell?

Varro: *to Cerulean* Say anything you like of it... it’s no secret. It will not be my job to spread it... simply to see that it happens. *he sat up, seeming more collected*

Cerulean: *chuckles* I’ll dominate and anchor you to the ceremony hall myself if I have to!

Ruse: Varro... *she said in one of those demanding voices that only bards can really attain* Ready to go? *she smiles, a weary thing, but all the same*

Cerulean: I think visiting hours are over... spouses remain.

Varro: Thank you for staying with her Ruse

Ruse: You do not have to...

Varro: *faded from their sight, not even bothering to get up*

Ruse: ...thank me for that.

Cerulean: *making sure that Varro left first, waves a hand, and he too is gone, reappearing at the tavern. Decides not to mention the negative, it will be dealt with in its own way.* HAIL EVERYBODY! I bring great news!

Deriaz: *he glanced over at Cerulean* hullo there... Great newssss? Well let’s hear it then

Cerulean: Varro and Uxor are to wed! *he shouts* COG, DRINKS ARE ON ME!


Juryrig: *stares at the bloodsoaked paper, as a blue shard pulsates*

Uxor: I do not require you to do anything other than please...help me keep other innocents from coming under harm by this woman *she nodded to the figurine at Juryrig’s feet, the likeness he had carved of ‘Elana’ who had hired him.*

*Uxor was still watching Juryrig when Varro appeared beside her. He looked at Juryrig without reaction, but instead pulled Uxor to him, offering no word or explanation as the pair of them were gone again.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XII "A New Proposition" Chapter 5

*Varro walked down the passage way, holding Uxor's hand, and escorting her as if she were royalty. The simplicity of the temple was interesting to him, as was the fact that none of the monks had tried to bar him from entering, or spoken a word to him. Once in a while, a nod would be given to Uxor, who returned it in kind, but they looked on Varro passively. At Uxor's direction, the two of them crossed through open spaces, small courtyards, past men gathered together practicing combat techniques, or other unusual rituals. Uxor paid them no mind because she expected it. Varro paid them no mind because he did not care. There was one destination, and that was to this 'master' fellow.

Master. Varro gnarled his nose at the thought of that term. Did it mean the man was master of his arts, or master over her? Or... perhaps both? Varro was not so rude as to needle Uxor over it however. All that would matter is what this 'master' would permit, and what Varro and he would come to an understanding of.

When they arrived before the fellow, Varro was at first surprised to see him sitting folded legged in a wooden floored room, looking to their entrance expectantly. This surprise was short lived, as Varro - being one who delt with formalities himself - figured one of the other monks had run ahead of them at the sight of Uxor to alert the master of their arrival. Uxor coiled upon the floor before the man, bowing her head in greeting, and Varro offered a formal standing bow to him, followed by sitting upon the floor, but with as much dignity as he could emulate. The monk sat across from both of them, but looked to Uxor and said* The second time to see me, in such a short time, Maiden?

Uxor: Yes master.

*He watched her a moment, then looked to Varro* Who have you brought, Maiden?

*Varro was a little put off at being spoken about as if he couldn't very well introduce himself. He said nothing however, for this was her culture, and he would ... for the moment... let Uxor have the reigns of the discussion.*

Uxor: The one I spoke of, Varro.

*that seemed to bring recognition to the monk's face, and Varro wasn't certain if that were good or ill.* The one you have spoken for... twice.

Uxor: Yes master.

*Varro was also slightly curious at that reply. He knew of this most recent time, but the time she had broken her vow while he was absent had been something mysterious. In retrospect, knowing how she felt, for her to have broken her vow for him twice now made sense.*

*The master nodded* You have returned for the Severed Song, but you bring with you other tidings. What are they Maiden?

*This fellow was better than Varro expected. He could read others in a similar light to how Varro read them, and thusly, drew information out. For a moment the bard considered that he and this monk were not perhaps so different.*

Uxor: I seek your guidance... *she started, but the monk cut her off*

You have already decided, and you are willing to accept the consequences. What you wish now is to know what those consequences are.

Uxor: Yes master. What are the consequences of marriage? I will wed this man. If I must give up my path to do so, I accept this. *she sat up very abjectly, looking to the monk with resolve and expectation*

*the look of the monk softened a little* Your path is your own to walk, Maiden. I, nor any, will tell you to turn from it. Your karma is your own. However, I will tell you that to be with him, you will find that your karma is more complex, and walking your path will be more difficult. For this reason, many do not take a wife... or in your case, a husband... in order to focus upon their journey. You understand these things...

Uxor: Yes master.

*he nodded* then walk your path, Maiden.

*Varro was almost relieved. He thought this would be one of their major obsticles. Uxor also seemed relieved, and continued*
Uxor: As for my path... I wish to renew my vow. I will endure the severing of song, and marking. Is he permitted to be at my side?

Varro: Before we get too far, in so much as accepting or denying my presence with my mate, I would speak *he wasn't going to let them get too far along before he had a chance to right this* The breaking of her vow was not her fault. She was not acting of her own accord, and was drugged. If you wish her to not speak, so be it, but she should not have to go through with this 'severing' process for something that was not her fault.

Uxor: My actions are my own Varro, lucid or not. Circumstance does not change what happened. I let my emotions over come me...

Varro: Because of whatever that forged gave you. I felt it. You were euphoric. Considering all that had been done to you at that point, I sincerely doubt it was truly because you were 'happy.'

*The monks voice came to the two of them* Tall Lord of Words... your mate's karma is hers to accept or deny.

Varro: Minstrel...I prefer the term Minstrel. *he could sense a mental slap on the back of the head from Uxor's glance at his 'disrespect' to her master's words. Tall Lord of Words indeed.... the monk only nodded*

Minstrel, one does not walk the path of the severed song in half effort.

Varro: Fair enough. Then I will be there. Whether I am permitted or not, I will be there *he lifted his chin. The monk nodded. Once more, prepaired for a battle, Varro found that nothing barred his request.*

Be at her side Minstrel.

Varro: *he turned to Uxor, a bit oblivious of the monk as things were going so well. He had as yet one last thing to get past the objection of these monks. He said she had to go through with it, but he did not say she couldn't have help* Uxor... I can help ease the pain of it. You know this. What I did for you in House Jorasco in the ward, I can do for you in this context as well.

*Uxor shook her head no. Before he had the chance to open his mouth that she didn't have to listen to the black and white monks, that semantics was key, she touched his face and smiled at him*
Uxor: I know you can. But I need to be able to concentrate. You can take away pain, but you also take away focus when you do. Lying there for Dal to heal me was one thing... but this... I need focus. I know you mean well, and you want me to be happy and safe, but please understand why I could not accept your gift despite your good intent.

*Varro slouched dejectedly. The monk said nothing. After a moment of silence, Varro spoke up and sat up more straightly*
Varro: So this song severing... you cut yourself *he ran his hand over his throat*

Uxor: That is the basics of what it entails. I must end my capasity to speak.

Varro: And how do you do this without bleeding to death?

Uxor: There are brothers who tend to me, and provide healing to me as I perform the ritual, to ensure I will survive it.

*Varro looked at the monk and held Uxor's hand as if the master had intent to seperate them*
Varro: I will be at her side, and I will heal her. She will have no need of your brothers, she will have her husband. *Varro felt Uxor's hand press ever so faintly against his, and he recognized that she was comforted by this news. Prompted by her light gesture, he leaned toward her to offer a light kiss on her lips, and looked back at the monk defiantly.*

*Once again, Varro was met with no objection as the monk nodded agreeably to him* As you wish, Minstrel.

*No objections to marriage. No objection to his attendance or assistance. With nothing to fight against, Varro was back to the one part of this ordeal he had not entirely worked out... exactly how one in Uxor's faith did marry?*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XII "A New Proposition" Chapter 6

Varro: Before she is to sever her song, as it were, as a gift to me she has agreed to marry before your ritual. I will presume this to be ok, as it has taken her this long to even return to you for such a purpose. So instead, I wish to grant her a wedding that is traditional to her beliefs. How does one of your order go about this - what are the rituals?

*The monk shook his head to the question* There are none, Minstrel.

Varro: *he blinked at the master* You mean to tell me you have rituals and ceremonies to mutilate yourselves or deprive yourself of happiness, but not one related to marriage?? *again came that implied slap to the back of his head from Uxor's gaze. The master only looked on him passively, if not with pity*

There are none. However, to atone for my failures as a teacher to the Maiden *which he nodded his head to Uxor* what I can offer you is the knowledge of how the locals undergo it.

Varro: Fine. I was rather hoping to give her something of her culture, but since you apparently have none outside of this 'path walking'... I am open to suggestions.

*the master smiled slightly* It is different for all who do so, but of weddings I recall before my time here... *he paused, reflecting* They gathered with their village. In a sacred place, they offered prayer to their families, ancestors, and to their gods. They wore ceremonial clothing... red typically, but not always. Sometimes the village women would create the garments for the bride. Before the town elders, they would proclaim their love and intent. They would give to one another an armband, wrought with a sign for their new family. The groom would have forged these before the ceremony, or have asked for the assistance of a trusted one to craft them if he could not. The couple and the elders would then march unto the home that the groom would provide, and the elders would offer prayer and tolkens of good luck. The couple would enter their home, and the elders would return to the rest of the villagers at the sacred place, and confirm the union. More prayers would be offered, and gifts to the gods to bless the couple and grant them luck, and strong children. Does this help you? *the master looked between them both*

Varro: Yes and no. Tell me... do you believe in gods?

*the master was not perturbed by his question, and Varro was starting to wonder if anything could get under the master's skin at all.* Minstrel, if there are gods, they will be, whether I believe in them or not. If there are not gods, they will not be, whether I believe in them or not. My purpose is to atone for my own acts in this world.

Varro: Fair enough.

Uxor: Thank you for your help master *and she bowed. Varro bowed as well, but didn't know how truly 'helpful' this man had been. In fact, he had done nothing but stand aside from anything they intended on doing.*

Varro: Thank you for your knowledge.

*the master returned the bow* You are welcome Minstrel, and Matron of Ice. *Uxor looked up for a moment at his comment, but smiled softly as Varro helped her to her feet, and escorted her out of the temple. As they walked, he was already set to scheming. She knew he would be, but she knew to expect differently of him would be the same as her speaking and forsaking her vow.*

Varro: Sacred place...arm bands.....interesting. *he paused in one of the open courtyards, moving to guide her to a bench* Uxor, what do you want?

Uxor: To be your wife.

Varro: *he shook his head and grinned at her* Yes but HOW do you want that to happen? I've spoken with many folk over how ones goes about it. I've had legal documents drafted up in Stormreach. I've come to the place of your faith. I have my ideas of how it can be, but I still know nothing of what you would like.

Uxor: I don't know. I've never thought of it before.

Varro: I could always try to give you a wedding like the one you had from your first marriage to... *he stopped, realizing he was about to say too much. His capasity to see into the past conflicted with her request that he not tell her. Now perhaps she would think differently* I'm sorry. I just wanted to know of you, so I did look to my powers to show me what your wedding was. I know you said you don't want to hear it but, my offer still stands if you would like me to tell you of your past...or at least that part of your past which was happy.

Uxor: You know his name... my first husband that is?

Varro: Yes. Do you wish for me to tell you?

Uxor: No. In fact, tell me nothing of my wedding. The life I have now is what I live. I do not want memories and familiar feelings clouding my mind when I am to marry you. The same is true for our ceremony. I do not want it to reflect my first wedding. I want no past to haunt my present in that moment. That is what I 'want' Varro.

*Varro thought about this for some time, sitting and holding her hand, looking at the gardens around them. He smiled and patted her hand* Then I know how we will wed. If I have to leave your side a few days, is that alright in terms of your ... other ceremony?

Uxor: Yes. I will miss you, but whatever you have in mind I will be happy. Am I to stay here?

Varro: That will work nicely. I will return a few times before this will be proper, but all I ask is that you have patience, and enjoy what I bring for you. In the meantime, think on what words you wish to say to me. Everyone I have spoken with says that those who marry offer vows or words of intent as your master said.

Uxor: I have thought on that much of it... Points said I should make a new 'oath' with you.

Varro: Well, the elf has more rationality to him than I thought. Weigh that notion then, this new oath, in your meditation while I am gone. *he started to kiss her hand, then paused, looking at the band upon her index finger.* Does it bother you that Endaria wore it before you? If you would prefer that I find new rings for us, I will. Rings are my tradition, and if you did not want one at all well, that would also be within reason to ask me to part with both of them. *he nodded to the ring on his hand*

*Uxor shook her head, and put her forehead to his* I loved Endaria like family when she was alive. To continue to take care of the one she loved, you, is something I take very seriously. My master spoke of couples giving prayer to their ancestors... wearing this ring will be my tribute to she that I held as kin.<

*Varro brushed his nose along hers admiringly.* As you desire, my snowdrift. There is something else. I know you said you want no past looming over you, and that who we are now is what matters. But if you are intending to take my name, you should know that there are no Velox. Not only is my name alias, but I have no given name Uxor.

Uxor: You have given yourself your 'given' name Varro. That does not matter to me. I will take it because it is from you. Perhaps it makes it more important to me because you are willing to share with me something that is truly your own.

*Varro was very contented by this response, and kissed her, inbetween muttering* Keep this for me, and give it back when I return *he meant the kiss, and she understood saying* Always.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XII "A New Proposition" Chapter 7

*For several days, Uxor was greeted in the evening by Varro's appearence, coming and going from the temple. He would arrive, dine with she and the monks, inform her that 'things were going as planned,' and then depart once more. She never pressed him for details or to know when he would be finished with his plans. Each time, he requested the return of 'that which she said she would always keep for him' - the kiss - but subsequently, he would ask that she favor him by keeping it for him again when he departed. He would then set off on whatever errands he had in mind concerning the wedding.

To her, simply wearing his ring and saying she was his wife would have pleased her. She knew that would not be his way however. Varro was a man of showmanship... to not put on a specticle in some form would be entirely unlike him. So rather than question what was to come, she spent her time meditating on what oath she would make to him, and what it would mean for her karma to be in love.

One evening Varro did not arrive. Instead of being greeted by her tall bard, her Master came into the room. Uxor bowed her head, and angled her head curiously at her Master, who sat down across from her, saying*

Are you ready Maiden of Ice? Your mate bade me come to inform you that by this time tomorrow, you will be wed. He did not have time to stay and dine with us this eve, however, he wanted me to show you something.

*Uxor nodded, not surprised by any of this. Somehow she suspected that whatever Varro had in store for her would require that she jump through a few hoops. Her Master walked with her to one of the open courtyards, where a few of the brothers were gathered around one of the benches looking at something. Upon the bench was a long flat box. This she did not expect. Her Master motioned for the other brothers to move off*

Let us allow the Maiden some privacy, Brothers.

*Uxor approached the box and started to open it. Privacy she was not so concerned with. None the less, the brothers - as well as her Master - moved off as she inspected the contents of the package. Within was a folded paper, and beneath and all around this paper was the fabric of a garment. Uxor lifted both from the box, and folds of the fabric cascaded down to form the distinctive shape of a gown. It was a pale color like her skin, with golden patterns swirling up its length, and rich indigo colored panels that worked down the center of it and unto the sleaves. It was very lovely, and glimmered in the sun brightly on all accounts. It was perhaps more elaborate than even her robe she wore for official business of the high council of the guild. She read the paper that came with this dress, in handwriting she recognized as being Varro's*

"Uxor,

I understand that in this region it is traditional to wear something 'special' in which to wed. I saw this dress and my thoughts went to you. It is made from a material sacred to the people of this land, and I felt that was perhaps most appropriate. Tomorrow morning, your Master and several of your temple monks will escort you to me. Please wear this for your journey. If there is anything you wish for me to wear, think happily on it, and I will know. Until such time, continue to keep it for me.

With infinite passion,
- Varro"

*By "it", she knew he meant their kiss. It was a sort of game she had come to enjoy now. At first she considered that her Master knew of all of this, and had said nothing to her of it. Instead her thoughts turned to what she would enjoy seeing Varro wear. Oddly enough, she found her thoughts went to the purple shimmering robe of the Augur. She enjoyed how it served to make the blue of his eyes all the more radient, and how dignified he looked in it. There was also the notion that the fabric was quite soft - almost silky. So her mind roamed to this outfit of his, hoping he would have an awareness to how pleasing it would be to her for him to adorn it for the wedding.*

*That evening, she slept well. She was excited of course for what would come, but she had no hesitation or nervousness that would keep her from rest. Briefly it crossed her awareness that this would be her last eve as merely the 'Maiden of Ice,' for as her Master had so clearly pointed out to her, she would now be a 'Matron.' This did not trouble her she found, and sleep came quickly for her*

*Sleep came quickly for Varro, elsewhere in the world, who milled over Uxor's happy thoughts that drifted to him by way of him being diligent in his searches through his Augur imagry to find them. It was all he required to relent at last to sleep, not having done so for the two days prior. The fact that she envisioned him in the purple robes was deeply comforting to him. She was truly going to become his wife, and accepted all that came with that arrangement, even his service to the Avatar. While he could never understand how he had come at last to the fortune of having a woman such as this, he was not going to question it. For once, he would simply accept her acceptance, and sleep. *

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XII "A New Proposition" Chapter 8

*A familiar scene was passing by Uxor... the sight of the countryside far below her, as the airship passed along. This time however, the situation was far different. In the first place, rather than Varro at her side, her Master sat meditatively. Additionally some of the other brothers were peering out into the vast blue, and the tiny world below, with either curiosity or fear. Some of them it had taken much coaxing to get them aboard the airship in the first place. Uxor rightly didn't know what to think of it all... this journey to marriage had been riddled with unexpected occurances*

*Uxor stared at her Master with open wonder as he explained the manner by which she, and the other brothers, would travel. She had expected to simply walk to a location somewhere near. Perhaps by horseback if it was a bit of a journey. Instead, her master held a scroll in his hand, explaining that they were to teleport to the airship port, leagues away from this region.*

Uxor: You...teleport? All of us?

*her master smiled softly at her confusion* Yes Maiden. It surprises you that I am able to do such?

Uxor: Yes Master. I've never seen you practice magic, let alone such as ths.

*He was not insulted by her implication that he didn't seem 'capable' of it* No one will tell another how they may walk their path Maiden. You above all others understand this. My path is my own, and what it entails is of course not - nor has it ever been - a concern of yours. Thus do not feel bad that you had no awareness to this.

*Uxor nodded in understanding, and in retrospect, the fact that he could so clearly recall the traditions of the regional villages implied that he did have a full life outside the monestary at some point. For all she knew, before coming to be with the monks, he had been a great wizard. She was not going to ask after this however.*

Uxor: I am ready Master.

*The surprise at learning that her Master was... or at least had been in his former life... a spellcaster had set her offbalance to a degree. Then there was the airship itself.*

Uxor: You're positive?
*The first mate nodded her head* Ooh yes, Ambassador. Cap'n made it very clear you and your escort were not to be charged for boarding, 's been already taken care of.
Uxor: I'd feel more comfortable with that if I could speak with the Captain personally. I don't want any misunderstandings after the fact.
*The mate shook her head* 'fraid can't help it Ambassador. Cap'n he's not here. If it makes ya feel better ta know, I tell ya if Cap'n ain't here, makes me Cap'n in es place. So 'f cap'n don't like what I say, he take it up with me, won't be your worry Ambassador.
Uxor: Thank you for your reassurance.

*She really didn't know what to expect now in the least, so there was nothing for it except to let all things unfold to her, and see what her new husband had in store for her.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XIII "The Maiden, The Minstrel, & The Marriage" Chapter 1

*Uxor looked around to the sands, the tall cliffs, the red stone formations scattered round the horizion, and the overall scenery of the desert. Nestled amid this was the sight of a splash of buildings in the stark landscape. White structures, with dark reddish wooden beams and clay rooftiles, sprang from the sand, set upon stone foundations. Near at hand to these structures was the airship docking, hoving above the canyon that snaked all through this settlement. In the time it had taken them to sail through the skies from the monestary to this place, the sky had already began to reflect the come of eve. The multiple moons of the starscape had crested the horizion, chasing the sun to its retirement on the opposite side of the sky.

Her Master walked with confidence across the gangway to the sands. Some of the other brothers hesitantly tred across... some practically scampering... to arrive at his side. Uxor walked with a hesitation of her own, not having expected the ship to dock here. She fully had anticipated arriving back in Stormreach to the sight of a huge gathering, and until her Master had gotten up, she didn't even know that this WAS their destination. She still expected that Varro had organized some huge gathering, but to think that he might have transported guests this far out of the way seemed very inconsiderate of him. She was not going to try and reason out what had been planned however - denoting how much had gone not according to her knowledge of the way life was told her that this too would be something she did not expect.*

This way Maiden *and her Master motioned for her to come to his side, and set to walking purposefully across the stone bridgeways. She, her Master, and the pack of monks walked past many of the buildings, past merchants and caravans, and other sights of life in this settlement. This was not her first time here, but it was her first time paying such deep attention to what was going on around her. Momentarily she was afraid that Varro had intended to wed them before the sight of the Elder planar outsider that resided here. The guild often held ceremonies there, but in Uxor's mind overseeing a wedding was perhaps a trivial to impose upon that being. Her fretting over that prospect was quelled as her Master began to guide her up a steep incline to a building that sat upon high ground, and was not near the area she knew.*

*Three things struck Uxor's immediate attention as they crested the incline to arrive level with this structure. First was the unmistakeable sight of Varro, standing beside the far end of the building, patiently waiting for her, but smiling when his eyes fell on her. He was wearing the robe of the Augur, just as she had so pictured. The next was a man standing beside Varro that she recognized as being the Captain of the airship. She recalled the gentleman from previous journies...even so recent as their trip to the monestary in the first place. It was the third thing in sight that prompted a look of true astonishment from her. Behind Varro and the Captain was the distinctive profile of a scraggly tree, close to the entrance of this building, and with signs that it had been only recently planted there. The outline of such a tree had been etched into her memory very prominantly, for beneath such a tree she had first confessed to Varro how she felt of him; the freshly disturbed dirt round the base of this tree behind Varro told her that someone had uprooted it from its original location.*

*Her Master ushered her on until the group of them were gathered beside this tree. Varro looked her over, and held a hand out to her. His other was occupied by several scrolls of paper. Warm lips brushed against the back of her cold hand, as he kissed it and smiled at her*

Varro: I could tell you how beautiful you look, but I believe it goes without saying. *almost privately between the two of them - as he moved closer to her, and rested his forehead against hers - he said softly* Are you ready for this Ux?

Uxor: With you, I don't think I can ever be completely 'ready' for what you have in mind. I will say I have no wish to delay or turn from it.

Varro: I'll call that 'yes' then. *and he kissed her lightly on the lips* thank you for keeping that for me. *then turned toward the Captain, and glanced at the monks round Uxor*

*Varro held Uxor's hand out towards the gathering, and looked to the airship Captain*

Varro: Captain... this woman wears my ring. I have asked her to be my wife, and she has agreed. Before you, before these monks, I make it known that she is my mate. *he held up the scrolls in his hand* All that I have, I offer to her, for our new life together. These documents specify that she is overseer of my affairs, and should such a time arise, she is also heir to my assets. I ask that you sign these papers concerning the sale of my property in Stormreach, and the purchase of this one, as I require a legal witness.

*The Captain retrieved the papers from him and set to reading them over, but Uxor looked at Varro in even further astonishment than before*

Uxor: The sale of your... you sold it?

Varro: *he smiled at her* I did. This *he motioned to the door beside them* is our home now.

Uxor: You didn't have to do that Varro

Varro: No I didn't. I wanted to. I wanted somewhere for the two of us... somewhere with meaning. This place . It is my gift for you.

*The Captain held out the scrolls to Varro and Uxor. Varro signed the documents, and held them out to Uxor, who started to simply sign "Uxor" but then remembered what this was, and signed her name as "Uxor Velox." She really didn't expect it, but somehow to write it as such was actually enjoyable. She found herself taking a certain amount of giddy pride in seeing her name written in this manner. She did not yet have the time to consider these things, or even look over what was about to become home, before she felt Varro guiding her towards the small tree, and the Captain nodded to both of them, biding 'Lord and Lady Velox' farewell.*

*The monks however did not depart. Instead, they gathered around the two of them, and her master came to sit upon the sand beneath this small tree. Varro motioned for her to sit across from her master, and seemed unconcerned that they would be sitting upon the bare sands. He in turn sat beside her. She waited for further explaination from Varro, but instead it was her master who spoke*

This man has requested that I guide the two of you in meditation. He tells me that often you assist others in helping them to walk their path in their woods, and yet what your path is, and what his is to you, is unknown to him. I see no reason why this should not be an appropriate experience for a husband and wife to share in, so I have agreed to guide you both, if you accept this Maiden.

Uxor: *raised a brow at both of them* I don't understand. Varro I would love you no matter what your answers were.

Varro: I know you would. I just want to know you. I wanted to experience this together... I felt it might be the single most appropriate means of sharing a part of ourselves in terms of your beliefs.

Uxor: And what of your beliefs?

Varro: Oh trust me, it's coming... I think Hope - and the whole lot of them really - would slay me if I intended to go through with this without including them somehow. Once we've had our marriage... once we've restored your vow... then we will return to Stormreach for celebration with them. That will satisfy my duty to the Avatar so far as that is concerned. For now, this time is ours. I want you to see all that I am if I am to be your husband Ux. That is why I asked your Master to perform this.

*Uxor nodded in understanding, deeply touched that Varro had gone through so much trouble on all accounts to make this something special - and unique - for her. She looked to her master to indicate that she was ready*

*Many times before had Uxor seen others undergo the guided meditation. It was intended to show many things of yourself, but on an expressly subconscious level. Varro knew a good deal of it from helping her in the past, but she had never bothered to have Varro try it. After a moment of silence, she looked to her Master, who nodded and said* You as well Maiden.

Uxor: Me? I thought Varro was going first

*her master shook his head* No. You will also do likewise, and I shall explain once we are finished.

*Uxor nodded and closed her eyes, entering her meditative state, but partly she worried, for she had always been of the understanding that the guide and follower were the only two for the process. To see more than one person being guided in the same meditation was something new to even her. None the less, she relaxed and pictured nothingness, and listened to the sound of her Master's voice*

I want you to picture blackness. Listen to the sound of my voice, and as I ask you questions, describe what you see in great detail. When you can see blackness, say so. Picture the deepest darkest pitch, where no light could ever penetrate. There will be only my voice, and the voice of your mate.

Uxor: Yes.
*Varro was quiet for a time longer before he at last sighed somewhat*
Varro: Close enough... as close as it will get for me anyway... blackness. Continue.

I want you to picture a forest, and a path. Tell me all you can of what you see, what you hear... all of it.

Varro: *he had no hesitation in offering up a description* Ferns. There are a lot of ferns. The trees are very tall... tall enough that I can't see through the forest canopy. Most of their folliage is towards the top though. The ferns cover the path pretty extensively. I can barely see it snaking through the woods. It's more like a...a deer trail. The bark of the trees is red, and so is the dirt path...what I can see of it through the ferns anyway.

Uxor: *once she was confident that Varro had offered his description in full, she offered her own* Bamboo. Tall and straight, and everything is bathed in green. The long pointed leaves cover the ground. There is no path I can see, there is only space to walk between the trees.

You pass through this forest, and as you are wandering, you see a bear. What do you do?

Varro: I sing a song for it until it is entranced by my music, and then pass by it.

Uxor: I remain where I am. If it moves about its business, I let it. If it lunges for me, I defend myself.

The bear moves on, and you continue on your journey. You come across a key on the ground. Describe it, and what - if anything - you do with it?

Varro: It's a skeleton key, very worn and small. I pocket it. Never know when a key will come in handy.

Uxor: It looks like one that could have fallen off a key ring, perhaps a city guard or a jailor's keys. I keep it with me incase I might need it later.

Your journey through the woods brings you to a body of water. Describe it.

Varro: A waterfall. I'm about halfway up, looking out at it, where it cascades into a pool of water at the base.

Uxor: A river. I can see the other side though.

Can you cross it?

Varro: Well there's no 'crossing' it really. You either jump in it, or you don't. Looks fun honestly. I don't know that I could get back out if I jump in from here though.

Uxor: I can make it halfway out, the water is up to my midrift, but I can't cross it, and have to turn back. The current is too strong.

Your path turns aside from this, and instead you come upon a bottle. Describe this bottle and what, if anything, you do with it.

Varro: It's a potion bottle. Still full too...corked even. I'll hang onto that too... but what's in it I'll have to wait until I get back to town to get an identify cast on it. I'm definately not going to just use it until I know for certain what it's for. Might be poison.

Uxor: The bottle is a wine bottle. It's empty, but it's clean more or less. Deep green, to keep the light from getting at the contents. I'll take it with me for now, incase I have a use for it.

Not that much further down your way, you come upon a bowl. Describe it and what, if anything, you do with it.

Varro: It's one of those mortar's like the alchemist's use to mix in with a pestle. That I'll also definately take. It's marble, and in good shape. Who would leave it out in the middle of the woods I have no idea, but I'll take it now.

Uxor: *She paused a moment, distracted by the fact that Varro's answer was not that far from her own* It's a mortar ... and it's very well made. The stone is smooth and soft to handle. I'll take it because I enjoy holding it, and I have nothing else to do in the woods.

Your path continues, through these woods, and you come to an obstruction in your path. What is it?

Varro: A cliff. I'm out of the woods now and there is a cliff.

Uxor: I've not been on any path per say, but now there are some. A series of forks and branches and paths to pick from. They all go off in different directions.

Can you get beyond this obstruction?

Varro: No. There is nowhere to go but down. Although, I do have boots that grant me featherfalling magic, and I could probably drift down below somewhere. I don't know that that is 'getting around' it really.

Uxor: I can yes in a way. I pick a path, and start walking it.

Picture blackness again for me. When you can, open your eyes, and we shall talk at length.

*While Uxor withdrew from the meditation in the way she had been taught, Varro simply opened his eyes, watching her, until she was looking back at him. They both turned to look at the master*

You both are aware of what these things mean, but I will reitterate it for you. This has been a journey of the self. The woods represents your outlook on life, and your path is an indication of how you see your travel through life. The bear is how you handle conflict, and the key, the value you give to knowledge and learning. The water was your libido, and your capasity to cross it or not is how much influence it has in your life. The bottle was your view of the traditional role of the male in a society, while the bowl, the female. Finally, the obstruction in your path was your outlook on death, and your ability to move beyond this obstruction was your feelings towards the afterlife. These things you may weigh of yourself, but additionally, you have heard the words of your partner in regards to their outlook. Know now that having undergone this together, hearing one another's words and thoughts, your forests will begin to bleed together. You will find ferns growing among your bamboo Matron of Ice, and Minstrel you will soon see an absence of a path, merely the process of walking between trees. This is but the smallest example of how your two existances will come together. Accept this, but always be mindful of the differences in your two forests. Walk your path together.

*Uxor bowed to her master, and Varro nodded, but turned to her, and took both of her hands, as they sat on the sands surrounded by the monks. The tiny tree loomed over them all*

Varro: I don't know what rituals or ceremony is involved in becoming married. This is my best guess at it after all I've asked of, seen, and learned. However, there is one thing that seems common and that is to offer a pledge... which I do before your bretheren... *he clasped both of her hands, looking nowhere but into her eyes. All else around them did not exist to him. There was only her.* I swear on my life, on my Avatar even, that I will love you, as I love nothing else. That I will protect you with everything I have to offer. I will live my life for you. Nothing will stand in the way of me tending my wife's happiness. Uxor, daughter of Sir Optelius Dyervolks - Living Ice of the East, Slayer of the Red - known among your brothers as the Maiden of Living Ice... you are now my wife, and you honor me with your love.

*Uxor smiled at him, long having considered what she would say to him*
Uxor: Varro Valerius Velox... to know your love is to be overcome by the very seas of passion, and I welcome it. I will make anew oath with you... to be at your side as your wife, and face that which we must together. I accept all that you are. Short of the gods themselves holding me back, I will always return to you. My friend... lover... and now, my husband, I will consider it the most beautiful of gifts to be now known as Uxor Velox. And I will always keep this for you...

*to which she moved to kiss the bard, but he was apparently of like mind on the matter, and met her half way. She wasn't certain if he had any spells cast on himself to dampen the chill of her as they kissed, but if he had not, she would not have known. It did not matter. Nothing mattered... nothing except one another... so much so that when they finally broke from their kissing, she realized the monks were gone, including her master. She had not even noticed their departure, and undoubtedly her master had intended it to be so. How well her master knew her. He knew that she would fuss over their having come, and be so concerned with being a good hostess, that she would delay time with her new husband perhaps. Their departure served one purpose - to give her no distraction from her wedding night. By now, the stars were overhead, and too the moons. Varro helped her to the deck of their new home, permitting her a view of the landscape.*

Uxor: Beautiful... *she muttered at the sight of the place*

Varro: You are. Tomorrow, I will help you renew your vow... but for tonight, I will bask in the great privilage of your voice Ux. Now should I be worried about this river of yours?

Uxor: Only as much as I should worry about your waterfall *she smirked at him* You're lucky I didn't say what I said a long time ago when I first took that meditation

Varro: Oh?

Uxor: Yes. I smashed the bottle.

Varro: I think I just fell even more deeply in love with you, snow drift.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XIII "The Maiden, The Minstrel, & The Marriage" Chapter 3

*Uxor smiled at the gathering before them. When Varro had said to expect such a party, he had not been joking. All around them were the faces of friends, guildmates, acquaintances, and well wishers... all dressed in flowing togas, and wearing laurel looking circlets upon their heads. A sense of familiarity - home almost - came upon her looking at them all. Apparently Varro had also not been bluffing when he said he used his abilities as Augur to see into what would have been her former existance... the time before her memories were taken. The mixture of nostalgia and familiar faces served to put her in a very bright mood, and she could not help herself looking to her new husband with an unyielding adoration.*

*Varro guided her out to the center of the gathering, waving with his other hand*

Varro: Who wants the honor of the first dance... with me or with Uxor...

*A male voice called out* With Uxor of course.

*Varro released his hold on her hand with a smile, offering a bow, and slipping back away. Uxor heard cries go up all around her, and she looked about in confusion for the source of her would be dance partner. Folk cried out 'Gary!' and 'The Watcher!' and 'Dances With Kobolds!!' as she searched the throng of people for the owner of the voice. Already having been in communication with Varro, she looked to him, and spoke mentally*

Uxor: <I don't see him... where is h...>

*Varro didn't answer. Instead, Uxor felt the world fall out from beneath her feet, and she recognized the feeling of being transported. Varro did so to her many times by now. This was different on several levels. In the first place, no one was holding onto her... for Varro to do so, he always had to touch her. Next was the fact that it did not feel to be Varro either, for when he did so, a sliver of his visions would flutter to her. This was familiar... but different. When the world solidified once more around her, she found herself face to face with a man in a toga, wearing a circlet, like so many of the other guests. But he was not like them. He had gray hair, mutton chops, and a soul patch not all that different than Varro's. His eyes were striking. Looking into them, she felt very small, as if at any moment his presence could drown her like an insect beneath all the terrible wrath and power of the sea. As she beheld this, she heard a voice reply to her question asked of Varro.*

<I'm right here.> *where at, from seemingly nowhere, he set atop her head one of the beautiful circlets the party guests wore. The figure then swept her up in dancing, to which she could only accept, and stare at him in sheer bewilderment.*

Uxor: <You...can hear me?>
Avatar: <Just like your husband, always a question. Looks like my Augur could not have picked for himself a better match>
*For some time of their dancing, Uxor said nothing. Neither did the Avatar. She tried to comprehend that she was dancing with the very being that she had so questioned the existence of. In all this time, she wanted to put faith in Varro and the others, but the whole idea of an 'Avatar of Celebration' had seemed so outlandish to her. Now, whatever this being was - god or not - it was here, and dancing with her no less. At last she mustered up the resolve to speak further with it*
Uxor: <Did you stop him from hurting Juryrig?>
Avatar: <No. I am aware you offered prayer to me for that Coralbina, but that was all him my dear. Of all the things you could ask me, you ask me that. Do you love him?>
Uxor: *She had no time to react to the shock of him having said her birth name, for his question prompted swift response*<Yes I love him.>
Avatar: <Would you stay with him, even if what was asked of him might threaten to seperate the two of you?>
Uxor: <If it kept him safe, I would die for him. I have no fear of being without him, because I will not let that happen. Is this a test? Something I must undergo to be the wife of an Augur?>
Avatar: <No. Just curious. Though I suppose it's fair to tell you that very soon, something may threaten your capasity to be together, and you will have to make a choice. Consider my telling you a wedding gift... just friendly advice.>
Uxor: <I will accept my karma.>
Avatar: <Yes, but will he?>
*Before she realized what was happening, the figure had bowed, and passed her on to the next guest to dance with. Uxor mingled with the other guests, but time and time again her gaze fell back to the strange being that mingled with the guests, and drank with them as might any man.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XIII "The Maiden, The Minstrel, & The Marriage" Chapter 2

((WARNING: This account of the story contains some material that might not be appropriate for sensitive readers. If you are someone who has an aversion to stories of self mutilation, or that contain graphic depicitions of violence, please do not read any further.))

*Varro glowered at Uxor, as she held the blade, going over the details of how the ritual of the 'severed song' was performed.*

Varro: You're sure you don't want anything for the pain?

Uxor: No. I have to concentrate. I've undergone this twice now Varro, I will be alright. It doesn't feel good no, but I will endure. Just be careful when you heal me that you don't heal too much... or it takes a lot longer for me.

Varro: Understood. So what happens after that?

Uxor: Then I must be branded, with this *and from one of her bags across the room, she retrieved what looked like a spearhead. Varro recognized that it was most certainly ceremonial in nature... no one could expect such a frail tool to survive real combat beyond one or two uses.*

*Varro frowned as he recognized the profile of the thing in conjunction with her mention of 'branding.' On her inner thigh, Uxor bore a dark scar, like a pair of long fingers had seered into her, to form a a narrow v shape. He hadn't bothered to question her on it before, as they both had their share of scars from combat mishaps that could not be reached with magical aid in time to prevent a lasting mark. Now it was expressly clear what made the mark, and why*

Varro: No. You're not going to be branded with that.

Uxor: It's part of the ritual Varro...

Varro: But this wasn't your fault... you were drugged.

Uxor: When it comes to a vow Varro, the reason does not matter.

Varro: It does matter. *he walked to her, plucking the spearhead from her hand* it matters because even your master said... I am the reason you spoke, both times. You're not going to get the brand this time... I am.

Uxor: *she shook her head adamently* Don't talk like that. This was my...

Varro: Your choice yes I know... but all that you've undergone in the breaking of your vow is my fault. I kept you in the dark, leaving you to think the worst. Then, I was arrogant, and my choices left you open to come into the hands of that forged. Both times now, I've been the source of your failing in your vow. You said we face what we have to together... so this is what I will face with you. Renew your vow, but I will wear your mark.

*She knew there would be no talking him out of it now. In the same way he sought to help her, she could perhaps help him*

Uxor: I understand. There is no real order to if the marking happen before or after the severed song really... so then let it be before, so that I can help you.

Varro: Developed some Augur powers I don't know about? *he smirked at her* or been trying your hand with wands?

Uxor: No...something a little more simple than that, love...

----

*The feeling of cold rushed to meet scorched flesh. Varro growled in pain through tightly clenched teeth, but Uxor's cold hands were already upon his thigh to offer a form of ease. She was correct, it was simple. Her skin was very cold, and after the hot spearhead had been pressed to him, she had promptly removed it, and placed her hands over the mark, trying to cool it for him. He had expected there to be something elaborate involved... but it had simply been a matter of heating the thing up, and touching it to his skin until it left a brand in the thin v shape. Uxor's expression was very serious and business-like, but he could clearly see her distress at ordeal. He was almost glad that his torture at the hands of the warforged had prepaird him somewhat for such a brief, but painful, experience as this. At least it was over now. He forced out a few words to her, taking a free hand and lifting her face up to look at him*

Varro: There... at least... we match. *he nodded his head toward her legs, where he knew she bore a scar of like kind. His other hand was behind him, propping him up, and clenched tight enough that he could feel his own nails drawing blood from his palm. This he kept out of her sight.*

*Her expression broke to soft, loving, empathy at his ordeal. She tried to take comfort in that he had offered to undergo this willingly. It didn't make it any less difficult however. She sighed, lifting her hands after a few more moments to inspect the mark* Uxor: Still in pain?

Varro: *he sucked in some air* Nothing that won't clear up the moment I have to start healing you. *He shifted up to try and get up and walk it off.* We can start whenever you're ready. *he continued to walk about until she had arranged herself.*

*Uxor kneeled on the floor of the room, and set the curved blade down infront of her. Sitting mostly upright, she started to close her eyes, and clear her thoughts. She heard Varro sit down beside her.*

Varro: Before you do this, I want you to know this much - yes, I have enjoyed your speaking. Hearing you do so moves me like music. However... that doesn't mean that I will regret your silence. There was a time that I hoped to turn you from doing this to yourself. Then I remembered that I loved you before I knew your voice. So just don't think about 'owing' or 'karma' or any of that in relation to this, alright?

Uxor: Thank you *she smiled at him* and don't you think that I regret having spoken. To give you this gift - for you to be the last to hear my words - perhaps balances out my short comings in my vow. I am ready, I trust you, and I love you.

*Varro nodded and kissed her, then offered up the blade.*

*Uxor began to chant, but Varro didn't understand the words. He didn't care to understand them either, for he was far more intently focused on her hands, which brought the blade up to her throat, and hovered before her neck. As she had explained to him, in anticipation of her initial striking into her own throat, Varro coiled his arms around her upper body, to help support her, and be readily at hand to heal her - and monitor her wounds. He tried to drive back the torment of waiting for her to begin her ghastly work with admiration of her. Admiration that she could do this to herself without fainting. Admiration for the level of punishment this woman could endure. It was only partly effective at steadying his thoughts when she plunged the blade in.

He fought to keep himself from complicating the ritual. His instict told him his wife was in pain, and he needed to help her. His reasoning told him that his help might make matters worse, and that this was what she had to do. He nearly released hold of her to keep himself from healing her up too soon. Instead, he held tightly to her, and tried to reflect on something else. He almost turned to drown the whole thing out with his Augur images, but he remembered her words that it would be a distraction to her. More than likley, to him too... and she needed him now. Instead he found himself fascinated by watching her. She choked and gargled, but still she managed to continue her chanting. He offered a bit of healing energy to her, enough to keep her from simply bleeding out upon the floor in his arms. With more discipline than he could ever imagine himself having, Uxor worked the blade in her throat, chanting and seeming very distant in her expression. Perhaps she was in deep meditation. Varro hoped that to be the case, and hoped it also meant she was able to block out some of her ordeal in that way.

She drove the blade up, from one side to another, digging with it as if it were a shovel trying to unearth a hidden treasure, and bit by bit he healed her. Abruptly, her chanting waivered, and fell hoarse with a sickening rasping sound. Varro closed his eyes, his own throat binding up at the realization of her having finally succeeded in severing her vocal cords. The ritual was quite barbaric in his eyes... to feel about in one's throat with a blade, fumbling about with your own anatomy, until you were lucky enough to finish off your voice box, and the only proof you had was that you could no longer continue with the chanting. Why a professional surgeon could not be called upon to perform, or even do so while she was unconscious, was beyond him - but also beyond his capasity to question her over. This was her culture. He said he loved her as she was, and did not seek to change it, and this was proof in utmost, to permit her to undergo something such as this archaic ceremony. She relaxed completely into his grip, extracting the blade from her throat slowly. He set immediately to healing her fully, and quickly, not content until she was breathing normally, and her mouth stopped oozing blood.

He lifted her up off the floor, carrying her to the bed, and stretching her out in it. After such an act, he fully intended on seeing to it that she rested, whether she wanted to or not. As he fussed over her, her hand slid along his arm, up his neck, and to the side of his face, turning his attention to her eyes. Looking at her expression, and feeling her touch, Varro suddenly realized that it really would be alright. All that she would have said shown clearly upon her features, and in her eyes. He could hear her as clearly now as if she had spoken aloud. Once he recalled her saying that her master told her 'actions were louder than any words' and here was the living example of this. For once, in turn, he looked back at her, and felt no need to say anything in return, for she too could see his meaning. In that moment, no speech was required by husband or wife.*

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 7
The Final Attempt

(The following is a transcript. . . I seem to be addicted to these. Is there a self-help group available?)



Ragyr closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. Deriaz and Jaggie had been up on the platform in the Phoenix for a few hours. He had had plenty of opportunities, but each time, someone had the nerve to just stumble across them and have a friendly conversation with the two. And each time, his mind raced back to Acapella and her words.

“How can you prove to me that you really care!?”

He winced as that memory rushed back. He had been as honest as he could have been. Yet she had pushed him away.

‘Fine,’ he thought, ‘if you want proof. . . I’ll get you proof. . . I’d kill for you.’ He glanced around behind the barrels, in time to see that Drow, Zoltando, and the dog—‘My dog,’ he thought—leaving. He waited a few moments in silence, before readying himself. He snapped his fingers, and his Adamantine Maul appeared in his hands. He adjusted the bracers of Bull’s Strength on his wrists, and set himself into motion.

He slipped out from behind the barrels he was watching the two from, down near Cog. Carefully, he eyed Jaggie and Deriaz to make sure no one else was up there with them, before moving to Cog.

“Cog. You turn away, go to the front, and do NOT check back here. . . Do you hear me?” Ragyr whispered.

“I—“ Cog started, but Ragyr summoned a large bag of coins. It had pained him to do it, because he had been trying to save as much of it as he could, but a bribe was the only way Ragyr figured he could get Cog out of the back room. Cog eyed the coins carefully, before sighing and taking them to the front of the tavern.

“Hmph,” Ragyr muttered. “Too easy. . .” He didn’t move until Cog was in the front of the tavern. He looked around, checking for anyone else. Surprisingly, it was empty that night, and none of the meddling Fellowship was there to try and stop him anymore. Quietly, he slipped up the ramp, to the stone pillar above, and peeked around at the two again from behind it.

Jaggie tipped a cup up to her mouth, catching the last drops of the sweet liquor she had been drinking, and set the cup to the side. Ragyr didn’t understand why, but just the sight of the two sitting there, enjoying each other’s company, brought an old memory to his head. He shut it down quickly, and channeled the emotion to anger.

Deriaz sighed, and looked ready to say something, until he caught the one red eye watching from around the pillar. He blinked once. “. . . Ragyr? When did you get here?” Ragyr cursed himself quietly before coming out from around the pillar. He stared at the two coldly, and gripped the Adamantine Maul tightly.

The moment Ragyr’s name had left Deriaz’s lips. Jaggie’s full attention was towards the pillar and the Forged that moved from behind it. Ragyr ignored her, and only stared emotionlessly at Deriaz. The Maul spun around in his hand once idly.

Deriaz shifted uneasily. “Um. . . Ragyr. . . What’s, uh. . . What do you need?”

The black Forged glanced over at Jaggie, and remained quiet. The Maul started spinning in his hand again. Jaggie, feeling the eyes fall on her, began to slide away from Ragyr’s general area. ‘Hmph,’ he thought. ‘Still shaken up from me trying to tie her up. . .’ It brought up another memory in his mind, of Acapella’s resurrection, and how she had thrown him out of her life. He shut the memory down again, and turned back to Deriaz.

“You. . .” His voice was low, and emotionless like his face. “Need to talk. . .” He stopped spinning the Maul, and glanced over at Jaggie. “Leave. . .” Jaggie winced at the cold words. She then turned her head slightly so she could see Deriaz. There was a questioning look in her one eye.

Deriaz shrugged at Jaggie. “I have no id—“

Ragyr cut him off quickly. “Need to talk. Alone. . .” The bracers began to glow slightly, and Ragyr felt the new strength flow through him. His grip on the Maul tightened.

“Eh. . .” Jaggie looked up and about. It wasn’t like she had anywhere she could really go to get out of the way, being on the overhanging platform. Ragyr took a step to the side, allowing Jaggie to walk past and behind him if she wanted to leave. He continued to stare at Deriaz.

Deriaz stood up slowly, still watching Ragyr and the Maul. “Um. . . Ragyr. . . Maybe. . . The weapon isn’t needed, if you’re just looking to talk. . .”

Ragyr continued to stare emotionlessly. He eventually glanced over at Jaggie. “Leave. . .” He motioned at the space he had given her to leave, if she wanted to take it. She only blinked, and crawled under a nearbly table to hug the pillar behind Ragyr. ‘Fine. . . Don’t leave. . . Just stay out of the way,’ he thought. He watched her crawl, but didn’t say anything aloud.

Once she was under the table, he moved over to Deriaz. He stared up at the tall, blue Forged. The bracers on his arms still were glowing. He mumbled something under his breath. “She wants proof, but the only way I know how to give it to her is through bounties. . . But this is getting old. . . Brother. . .” The only words that Jaggie or Deriaz could hear were, “My last attempt. . .”

Before Deriaz had a chance to react, Ragyr planted his palm squarely in Deriaz’s chest, knocking him back. The giant Forged blinked in surprise from the force of it, and spun his arms around a few times, trying to get his balance back. It was futile, and he topped over the side anyway. He missed the main floor, and fell straight down to the brawling pit. A loud crack was heard as the weight from him slammed into the stone floor. He groaned slightly, as he landed on the back of his neck.

“Deriaz!” Jaggie screamed out as she leaned over the side of the platform. Ragyr grinned slightly as he heard the crack. He hopped down from the platform to the main level below with ease. He then jumped down to the main pit, and stood over Deriaz, who was lying stunned on the ground from the fall.

Ragyr chuckled to himself, as he kicked Deriaz in the side. The Forged rolled over once, and stopped on his back. Ragyr tightened the grip on the Maul’s handle in both hands, and grinned. “So far, so good. . .” He lifted the Maul over his head, and brought it down hard on Deriaz’s stomach.

“Stop it!” Jaggie screamed again, and tumbled down into the pit. She landed awkwardly on the corner of a table. It splintered to bits under the force of the fall.

Ragyr ignored Jaggie’s yell, keeping his focus on Deriaz. He grabbed the blue Forged by the neck with his left hand. The bracers continued to glow, and he lifted the heavy Forged with ease to his knees. He spun the Maul around in his hand a few times, and like a large baseball bat, swung it at Deriaz’s head. He let go as the Maul connected, and Deriaz went to the ground hard again.

“No! No, no, no. . .” Jaggie hobbled over as fast as she could to the two.

Ragyr looked ready to swing again, but stopped as he saw Jaggie out of the corner of his eye. He growled, “Leave. . .” Once she got in range, the bracers flashed, and the head of the Maul flew at Jaggie’s torso. Deriaz growled, and shook his head to get his focus back.

“De—“ she started, but the Maul caught her squarely in the chest. It sent her back several feet before her head struck the stone floor.

Deriaz growled, seeing Jaggie being struck by the Maul. “You son of a—“ he yelled, and got up quickly. He lunged at Ragyr, but the black Forged simply tumbled backwards and swung the Maul upward at Deriaz. The head of the Maul connected to his back, the bracers flashed, and Deriaz was sent into a face plant into the stone. His limbs went limp from the force of the land. Ragyr snapped his fingers, and the Maul disappeared from his hands. In its place, a long, black blade appeared. “Just need. . .” He stood over Deriaz, before kneeling down over his head.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 7, Part II
The Final Attempt



Jaggie stared, dazed, up into the ceiling. Tendrils of blackness crawled at the corners of her vision. Ragyr pushed the blade down on the back of Deriaz’s neck, almost trying to use the blade as a saw. He cursed as the blade wouldn’t cut through the Adamantine plating. “Let’s see. . .” He snapped his fingers again, and the blade disappeared. He paused, thinking.

“Got to. . . Got. . . To. . . Can’t sleep. . .” Jaggie mumbled. “Got to get up. . .” She turned slowly. The pain in her skull was like a hive of angry wasps in the back of her head, trying to get out.

Ragyr laughed. “Wait a sec. . .” He summoned the black blade again, and started to examine the back of Deriaz’s head. ‘The weak plate. . .’ “Should be around here. . .”

Jaggie chirped as she barely managed to get to one knee. The very instant she did, she stopped again, cradling the back of her skull. Ragyr grinned, not seeming to hear the chirping and finding what he was looking for. “Alright. . . So if that weak plate is there. . .” The bracers flashed again, and he rolled Deriaz’s limp body over. He began to search Deriaz’s neck.

Jaggie stumbled a few feet towards the brothers. “Please. . .” She staggered a little to the right. “Don’t do this, Ragyr. . .”

He shrugged, and the emotionless tone was still strong in his voice. “No choice. . . Have to prove. . .” He grinned, finding the weak plates on Deriaz’s neck. The bracers flashed, and he rolled Deriaz onto his back.

“Please. . .” Her arm reach out to tug at his leg, and missed it by hardly a hair’s breath.

“No choice. . . Have to. . .” There was a hint of regret in his voice now. He was angling the sword carefully, as if trying to find the right angle to cut into Deriaz’s neck with. ‘But. . .’ he couldn’t help but think, ‘What of all the times he hasn’t attacked me?. . .’

“Brother. . .” Jaggie hung her head, as she couldn’t hold it up.

Ragyr growled. “I don’t care if he’s my brother. . .” His own thoughts were beginning to fight him. ‘Of course you do.’ He glared over at Jaggie. “Besides. . . Acapella said I had no proof. This would prove it to her. Get the head, cash it in, give it to her. Done. . . And everything will be back to normal.” ‘Far from it.’ “Now, please, shut up. I have to get this angle right, or I’ll have to start cutting more, and then everything will just get messy.”

“Nooo. . . You’re my brother. . . Don’t. . .” She staggered more, then barely caught herself from falling over.

Ragyr blinked, and stopped. “Me, your brother? What are you, desperate?” ‘Maybe she’s got a point. . .’

Jaggie pulled herself up a little more, one arm clenching her chest. “Don’t do this. . .”

“And if I don’t?” He moved the blade away from the back of Deriaz’s head. “Then word will just get out that I attacked the two of you. And then what? More daggers being thrown at me, more dirty glances being tossed my way, and more people just all around wanting me dead. . . Look, it was this, or the harbor waters again after Acapella told me we were through.”

“Find another way. . . Prove you’ve changed. . . You’re better than this. Start over. . .” Jaggie said. “I. . . I never gave you a second chance for this. . .”

Ragyr’s mind started to race. ‘The money’s right here. Just cut the head off, and you’re done with it. . . But if I do, then she’ll be crushed. . . But it’s better than starting over. . . Starting over would give me a second chance, though. . . But what if I mess that one up?’ His mind went silent for a few seconds. ‘. . .Guess there’s only one way to find out, hm?’

“. . . Start over. . . I don’t know how.” He snapped, and the blade was replaced by a pair of kits. “I have no idea where to even start.” He opened one of the kits, and set to work on repairing Deriaz. “Second chances. . . I’ve gotten too many, to be honest. . .”

“Heh. . . That’s cause. . .” Her head rolled back slightly. “You’re stubborn. . .”

Ragyr stopped when he heard Deriaz groan after a few moments. “At least he’s up. . .” He glanced over at Jaggie, and held up a kit. “You need it? I mean. . . I figure you probably won’t, but. . .” He paused, considering her words. “Stubborn, heh. . . Maybe. . .” He glanced down at Deriaz, who was slowly trying to get himself back into focus by shaking his head. Ragyr glanced back over at Jaggie, and held up the repair kit. “You need it, or not? I need to leave, if the runt here is waking up.”

“Eh. . .” She waved her hand loosely. “Bye-bye then. . . See you same time next week?” She allowed herself to flop down into an awkward sitting position. Her head was spinning slightly, from hitting the stone floor.

“Same time?” Ragyr chuckled. “No. . . No, I said this was my last attempt. . . I’m through with this. . . This. . . Charade. . . It isn’t worth it anymore. . .” He moved to the ladder without another word. Once he reached the top, he called back down. “I mean, I’m probably going to be killed for this, anyway.”

“Eh. . .” she called back up. “I’ll give ya another chance. . . I’m stubborn like that. . . Second chances, all around!” She twirled her hand as if giving a toast for some unknown occasion.

“Yeah, sure, you will. . . Maybe the runt will. . . Guess I’m dead, once the Drow or someone finds out.” He walked out of view, and out of the tavern. He started mumbling to himself. “Stupid. . . What were you thinking. . .? It isn’t worth it. . . The money isn’t worth it anyway. . .”

Back in the tavern, Deriaz groaned again, and shook his head. “Wha. . .? What happened?”

Jaggie waved at Deriaz. “Good morning. . .”

“Morning?” Deriaz looked around. “How long was I out for?” He rolled onto his back, and sat up, rubbing his face in pain. “And you alright? I saw Ragyr slam that Maul into you. . . And I got ticked off. Ran at him, and then. . . That was it. . . You alright?”

“Not morning, no,” Jaggie shook her head. “Ragyr’s gone. We. . . Played charades.” She nodded. “I think we won, but my. . . Everything hurts. We won, yes?”

“Your ‘everything’ hurts? Maybe we should go get a Wizard or someone?” Deriaz frowned.

“Ehh? Sure. . .” She rubbed the bend in her chest that the Maul had imprinted on her. “He’s got a good arm. . .”

“Alright, then. . . Come on. . .” He stood up slowly, and offered a hand to Jaggie. She reached for his hand, though she was uneven. More or less, she just waved at it. “Bah,” Deriaz grinned, and held back a laugh. “C’mere, you,” he chuckled, and grabbed her hand. He pulled her up carefully, and led her to the ladder. Slowly, he helped her up, and off to get help.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XIV "Spiders and Flies" Chapter 1

*Varro's pleasent rest was jarred by the sound of something banging on the door of their home. He glanced at Uxor, who was also resting lazily next to him, coiled up in the crook of his arm, as she was always inclined to do to nestle him. The sound hadn't disrupted her terribly yet, so he ignored it. This was short lived, as the sound came again. <Well wishers probably> he thought. <Or the courier come to deliver more letters.>*

*He slid out from beneath Uxor's catnapping, and stuck his head out of the bedroom doorway to call down to the lower level, loud enough for someone outside to hear him* No visitors please! Just slide it under the door!

*The knock came louder this time, far more pertinant. He glowered, considering that it was perhaps another 'emergency for the ambassadors.' He decided to try and play ignorant, and hope they went away* I've told you people a hundred times, no solicitors! Leave your business on the step!

*He turned around to see Uxor was looking back at him, curious about the sound at the door*

Varro: It's nothing, I'll get rid of them. *She was already getting decent for company however, and he rolled his eyes* I'll get rid of them. Honeymoon Ux... Hon-ee-moon *he pointed with a finger into his palm* Nothing warrents interruption of our time.

VARRO! *came a voice that shouted with much force, and carried up readily to both he and Uxor. Both had a look of acknowledgement to this*

Varro: Tyr? *he called back down* Just a moment *Uxor was smirking at him, with a raised brow, and he gnarled his nose playfully at her* Hey, there are some exceptions.

*Uxor's teasing smirk slid to a warm smile, as she was apparently in agreement with him of the importance of who was calling at their door.*

*Varro went out through the balcony door, deciding that Tyr would be surprised by that, and he thought it would be amusing. As he rounded the corner of the house, and came down the stairs, he saw that upon his doorstep were Tyr and Ruse. He started to make small talk with her, wondering what brought her to their new home.* Sister...

Tyr: Brotherman... *she smiled at his approach. She then turned to look at Ruse with an even broader smile, and whipped around, sending a tightly clenched fist into Varro's jaw.*

*Varro's whole upper body twisted as his head turned with the force of the hit, taking it fully, as it was not what he expected from Tyr of all people. How was it that any time someone had need to deal with him, it was via physical contact with his mouth? He took a few steps back, fully convinced that Tyr was either out of her mind, or her mind was not her own to control at the moment perhaps. He heard an approach behind him, and knew it to be Uxor, who came to his side, and looked at Tyr with surprise. Ruse looked at Tyr with as much shock as Varro and Uxor.*

*Varro was about to subdue Tyr with his bardic song, until she proceeded to relate exactly why she was there. Mekari had been in her home. This news pushed out the concern he had for his injured mouth. To make matters worse, Tyr's encounter with Mekari had apparently already set her to venture on her wild scheme*

*Uxor slipped into the house to grab something to write with. She could tell by watching Tyr that something was very wrong.

Tyr: I am going to kill her.

Varro: Don't. I can't have her killing you... You're under my protection. As long as I say you're off limits to her, you are. Otherwise you'd be dead right now if she was in your home as you said.

Tyr: It's not going to stop. I am ending this.

Varro: Tyr I told you, you can't. Knowing her like I do, hell this is probably exactly what she wanted - to bait you into coming after her just so she could claim self defense to me.

*Uxor immerged with a note that read* "Tyr what has happened?"

*Tyr shook her head at both of them* No... it's not going to stop. The minute I give in, it will never stop.

Varro: If you're not dead, then that means she wanted something. What did she say to you?

Tyr: She didn't say it... you did *to which Tyr held out some folded papers, which Varro took*

*The page that came to Varro's immediate attention he recognized readily. It was stained in blood, and contained that which he'd written for Juryrig, under the warforged's torture techniques. Beneath this page, one note read "Your friends are in danger, and the danger is you." Varro felt an odd chill work up his spine as he read this.* Where did you get this

Tyr: You said she'd stay away... you said...

Varro: What did she say to you... exactly *his words oozed with a mixture of wrath and purpose*

*After much coaxing between Varro, Uxor, and even Ruse, reluctantly Tyr related what had transpired...*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XIV "Spiders and Flies" Chapter 2


---((Chat Transcript))---

((Prior to Tyr's arrival at Varro and Uxor's home))

*Tyr is enjoying the "bath" that the new home Ruse found for them contains... by doing the backstroke*

*There is a knock at her door, the sound of which faintly echos to her. It is business like, and not sounding urgent or forceful*

*a thick, coarse length of cloth is wound about the lean form, tucked in at the breast while another drapes across head and shoulders to soak up the water on her hair and skin as she walks to the nearest window to look out and see who it is*

*There is a tall elven woman wearing the garb of the House Philanian waiting patiently upon her doorstep*

*the only other time she'd seen such attire was when she was accosted, so understandably, the hackles at her nape defied gravity*

*The knock came again*

*under her breath she cursed. Though at this point, if it were Mekari defying her word to her son, this small a distance would be inconsequential... so she calls through the window* state your business.

*The elf looked around for the source of the voice, and she smiled softely* I have a message for one Tyrynyn Ylydhwyyn, and was instructed to deliver it to her personally. *to which the elf held up a folded parchment in her hand*

*the towels are replaced with a loose, linen pullover robe, obviously new, a muted greyish green color with an open-necked collar before she heads downstairs to get the door* Who's the sender? *as the door is swung half-way open*

*The elf nodded her head in greeting, and seemed to have a very far away look in her eyes* Ambassador Uxor Velox, from on honeymoon

*tilts her head, the still-wet strands of hair loose from the customary tie-back shift to shade half of her face* why would she...? *her hand extends towards the elf for the message*

*The elf held the note out to her and bowed, setting off upon her errands*

Tyr: *deciding now would be as good a time as any to read it....*

*She denotes that there are two pages folded within the outter page, which is blank. The first of these inner pages was splotched with dark brown, as if someone had spilled something on it. The writing was smudged, but in charcol, and she recognized the penmanship. Varro's penmanship. It read:* "She is no Sword of Liberty. She is a vagabond, a lone kalashtar. I took her in off the streets. There are no associations You Dreaming Dark @#$%&!#! STOP There are no associates. No family. She is alone. That is the truth. She didn't kill anyone" *the bottom portion was illegibly smudged. the page behind it was clean, and writing she did not recognize very neatly and centered read* "Your friends are in danger, and the danger is you."

*her face remains impassive, blank, but if one could see her eyes, the bright, new-copper color blends in a swirl to the dull, muddy color of a tarnished coin.. and as she reads the second page, she staggers back, as if struck in the face from an entirely unexpected source* Uxor.. *the fullness of her mouth pinches in, tightening in pain as she drops the missive on a small table and covers her face with her hands* why?

*A female voice, one that ran down her neck like ice, was there to answer her question to the air* Because it is the truth? I would say that is accurate. *this voice came from the far side of the room of her. Unfortunately she recognized it*

Tyr: Mekari

Mekari: *Standing on Tyr's ceiling was the form of Uxor. She peered down at Tyr as if to be on the ceiling was the most normal thing in the world. She then passively walked down the wall as she spoke* Smart girl. *she moved gracefully and straight down towards the floor, not apparently interested in coming towards Tyr...at the moment. She instead touched down upon the stone of the floor with her feet, and stood, still in the appearence of Uxor, watching Tyr*

Tyr: *having spun about to locate the voice, Tyr takes an involuntary step back as the false Uxor finally alights on the same level as herself, and her hip bumps the table that holds the damning letter. One hand goes out to steady herself, and the fingertips alight on the cool facets of the shard that Juryrig had sent her. Not knowing why she did it, she tugged the edges of the paper over it, hiding it from casual sight* What do you want?

Mekari: To give you a chance to help them... before it gets worse.

*her hand comes up to press the flat of her palm over the healed scar under her breast.. that place where the warforged had tried to carve out her lungs* I'm supposed to believe you give a @#$%?

Mekari: I care about my son. The longer you are here, and around him, the more of a threat it will be to him. I included his 'wife' because I gather that you're fond of both of them. *she held out a graceful hand with long slender white fingers* You are what they want, and so long as he works to protect you, he will be in danger.

Tyr: *watches the hand much like a fledgeling chick might watch a viper come to the nest. A sickening fascination with the woman's resemblance to Uxor makes the skin tighten across her chest* Let me see your true face.

Mekari: Interesting request. *to which the form changed to that of a red haired figure, that looked mostly drow, but was rather pale if it were a drow. She was frail looking, and her lips were as red as her hair*

Tyr: Pardon me if I don't just take it on faith.. take off the mask.

Mekari: May I ask what good it will do you to know it? As you can see, I am never in my true appearence.

Tyr: You came here. I most certainly didn't seek you out. Humor me.

Mekari: Perhaps you'd be more comfortable if I invited those who are seeking you to join us for this viewing party? I came appearing as someone you would not preceive as threatening... I am not here to harm you. You would be dead already if I were.

Tyr: You made your threat clear to me the last time we met. *the fear is similar to the pervasive aura that followed her through most of her life, and as a sort of old friend, it doesn't incapacitate her. She refused to cower* You've made your point. Let me make mine. Unless you intend to do the damage to your son yourself- ie, to kill me, you can honor my request. Otherwise, get the @#$% out of my house, I'm done listening to you.

Mekari: They're going to kill him next time you know. If he doesn't give them what they want. I've interfered once now, but a second time will put me at an end as well...which I care neither one way or another to my own death... but not his.

Tyr: *folds her arms across her ribs, and waits, her eyes now the color of old blood*

Mekari: I will not remove it, but I promise I will show you how I look. A compromise.

Tyr: Are you suggesting I trust you?

Mekari: I am suggesting you care enough for Varro to realize that by preventing me from killing you, he is sealing his own death. Thus, I unable to act, the power now lies in your hands of the matter. Consider this my gesture that I trust your capasity to look after the well being of my son *and with that, her form changed again, and a blonde woman was staring back at her. This did not look like the blonde juryrig had so carved a likeness of. She was exceptionally alluring and radiated an otherworldly beauty. Her eyes were a similar pale blue to Varros, and she could very much see Varro's likeness in her features*

Tyr: *sarcasm is thick in her voice, she just can't help it* Sooo let me see if I understand. You are telling me I should kill myself... to save you having to do it... thus preventing Varro from dooming himself by protecting me... *her voice trails off to nothing when the new image is revealed*

Mekari: I am not *it was apparent Varro looked more like his father than his mother* I am telling you that you need to leave. Now. Or at least find the means to distance yourself from him. It is my job to kill you. I am unable to. If I am unable to perform my duties...then they send others. Others who are not as... understanding *her eyes flashed with a bit of maliciousness for a moment* of the fact that he is mine, not theirs. And they know you are here. This will escalate quickly. Varro's 'gifts'...as he insists on calling them... make matters worse for my ability to keep him out of it. They will use him to find others of you. You are a stepping stone for them. Varro is the walker.

Tyr: Why do you serve them? *a whispering tickles at the back of her memory, just out of reach*

Mekari: I want to go home

Tyr: *the dispassionate tone of Juryrig's voice comes back to her, seeming to echo at once both in her mind, and the stone on the table behind her: it was only one word- "Dance"*

*Mekari's eyes roamed towards the source of the mental tickle that wafted to her from the stone, but she seemed disinterested by it*

Tyr: *her head feels like it's whirling from the thoughts that cram through it, and again that one word in the dry warforged's tone echoes in her memory "dance".. and reminds her that she has a way to focus herself. Her body shifts into the readied stance of a hand to hand encounter, loose and prepared...*

*Mekari watched her a moment* Mekari: I dont require that you die Tyr... but you can't continue to be around him. They are coming.I can no longer prevent it. What's more, you stand a better chance of being alive gone from here. I cannot make you, I can only ask. I ask for the life of my son. He has bound me from protecting him, and my power to hold back the storm is gone. Because he says that you make him happy, I honor his request, and allow you this chance to escape, rather than simply turning you in.

Tyr: *at first it seems as if her words are ignored, with the swift strike of one of Tyr's hands to in invisible target, but as she segues into the follow through, and drops to sweep one foot in a short arc, the impassive mask drops from her face. Mekari's words seem to weave into her motions- when the word "gone" is spoken, she is suddenly not there, having moved so quickly to the tucking roll that carries her into the center of the room. Like an afterimage, only seen from the corner of the eye, the graceful motions she makes become traced by light*

Mekari: *watched her dancing, but didn't seem bothered by it, she simply continued* I can't force you to do anything. I'm prevented from that by my son. But I can implore you, and hope that you care for him as much as I, and will find the means to make yourself scarce from him.

Tyr: *the dance serves it purpose, and when she spirals down to a stop, her breath is smooth, steady and slow, her form almost kneeling at Mekari's feet. her voice is vibrant, as if she'd just swallowed a mouthful of rain enchanted by the moon* I'm certain you have suggestions? *the question is in the tone as she looks up at the other woman*

*Mekari looked down at her* No. How you find the means to do this is up to you... the less I know, the better you will be for it. If they search my mind and kill me, this conversation will be all they have, and my hope is that you will agree, and they can see this, and know it to be truth that you are gone from his life, and he is therefor no longer useful to them

Tyr: *almost, it's as if her voice is shadowed by the undertone of an other, and her speech patterns seem more formal* If I am but a footstone on the path, and he is the true goal... why would my presence, or the abscence thereof, change his usefulness to "them"?

Mekari: He is only useful so long as he has a kalashtar contact. You might wonder at my presence, but I am an agent. A tool. A tool that has perhaps now outlived her purpose, and they will dispose of me soon enough. I am more difficult prey than you. Through you, and with his gifts, they will have a window. The path of least resistance. I cannot right the mess he has made by accepting the gifts of this 'avatar'... or his insistance at having made it such public knowledge of what he is capable of...

Tyr: even though I know no others of my kind *implied is that Mekari is NOT her "kind"*

Mekari: On a conscious level. It is your less conscious level they would be interested in. *she folded her arms. For a moment, she looked like Varro's posture doing so...apparently that was something he got from his mother, rather than father* They will use him to you, and you to him, in the same way as Uxor. Because you are friends, they will wield that, walking about in your mind and beyond taking what they need. Varro's ability will make that all the more easy to accomplish.

Tyr: Atara... why do you suffer them? You could work against them.

Mekari: I suffer on this plane. Home...there is no suffering. To dream. To feel that again. This plane has nothing in the way of what can be at home *her eyes drifted a little speaking on it, as if reflecting on something, and a certain sadness passed over her gaze* I want to go home. They are the way home.

Tyr: not the only way

Mekari: They are my way. However... he is my son. It seems my way home is barred by my need to protect my son. *her focus came back to more of what was round her*

Tyr: *quiet, almost gentle voice, as if she is trying not to startle Mekari unduly* is it protecting your son to deny him the right to live as he sees fit?

Mekari: Yes. The ignorance of youth. He is cocky... self assured... and seldom has far sight into his choices. He crafts his words well, he manipulates others with exceptional skill, he even moves nobles and kings with his presence... but he lacks wisdom. Look at him even now, having made himself a target to any who would seek to use his newly acquired vast knowledge for their own personal gain... simply because he felt the need for fame and glory more so than tact at not informing half or more of Stormreach that he can see further than most into the lives of others

Tyr: You would change who he is?

Mekari: I simply work to repair the damage he does to himself, and shield him from what I can. Even knowing who I am and who I work for, he still took you in, despite the great foolishness of such an act - knowing who would seek you - and even now, stubbornly acts to spite me, with no regard to why I have done what I have. I am given no credit for relenting from my assault upon you.

Tyr: *slow blink* you expect congratulations? you think he loves me for spite of you? *oddly enough, this strikes through, wounding her*

Mekari: I expect no reward. I simply cannot understand why he would befriend you, knowing what he did, unless it were because he knew it would pain me or cause me undo stress at having to work round it. He knew you were prey Tyr. How do you think he was able to recognize your kind when he met you?

Tyr: *sadness seeps into her soul* Toror.. *the whisper is not directed at Mekari, though she is the source of the hurt in that she has quite brutally made her point*

Mekari: Now perhaps some true friendship toward you has spawned in his spite, in which case, now he will strive to protect you. Tell me...is what he wrote on that paper true? *she nodded to the words in varro's writing. She didn't wait for an answer* If it were true, then they were successful in breaking him once now. He will break a second time, and when they do, you will weep for them to end his life so that he will be free of what they will do to him. I can only hope that is not what you want *she nodded at the paper, and the dark stain on it now was very apparent to her of being blood* If they take you and use you for bait, he will come. You know this. If they take him for bait to lure you... would you leave him to his fate? And if you did, it will only be a matter of time before they use his resources to track you down. Unless he doesn't know how or where to find you. If you came to him to help him.... you would both be @#!$%&. With no viable kalashtar contact, I could perhaps trade my life for his.

Tyr: I can't lie to him.

Mekari: Then you'll have to find another way. If you cannot lie, then find some other means. Perhaps you could learn to hate him? After all...it does seem he's used you to wage a spat with me.

Tyr: *shakes her head, not realizing how much the hurt has let her open up to Mekari* I couldn't hate him for that.

Mekari: Not to mention *she looked round the house* here I am in your home...where your...Ruse is it? Yes that's her name. Where you and Ruse live. To think he's been cocky enough to presume that he could keep you or her from this. Or Uxor for that matter.

Tyr: *ice slicks a thin rhime of sweat across her skin at Mekari's mention of Ruse* You don't get to speak her name.. and if you touch her.. with any part of yourself..I will find a way to see that you never find home again.

Mekari: I am the least of your worries now my dear. If they know you are here, they most certainly know the avenues to persue. Who are your contacts. Your associations. Your loved ones. Where will the blade sting the most when they turn it in you. Why do you think they were asking him those questions *she nodded at the paper again*

Tyr: then you suggest I return to the life I knew before..

Mekari: As I said, how you do it is up to you. I need not even know, other than to know that you will agree to help keep him safe.

Tyr: *the eyes are dry that look up again at Mekari* I will help keep him safe. *weary* now get out of my house.

Mekari: Let us hope it will be enough then *she resumed a different appearence...the form of the messenger at the door actually, and dematerialized*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XIV "Spiders and Flies" Chapter 3

*Uxor listened to Tyr relate the incident, stoicly taking in the information, not trying to interrupt at any point. Varro's aura of malicious wrath seemed to grow the more Tyr talked.

Initially, Varro had determined the ultimate force behind he and Uxor's kidnapping to be one of two sources: his mother, or her employers. Neither had made sense. However, at his suggestion that Tyr's vigilanty justice was exactly what Mekari was up to in her meeting with Tyr, a wave of fury came over him at the prospect that it very well could have been Mekari. He had dismissed her before, but his own advice - that Mekari was a liar - came into play as he weighed Tyr's recount of Mekari's words...

"You are a stepping stone for them. Varro is the walker."

Tyr had been correct in wondering... what difference did it make if she were there or not. If to use Varro's abilities was the aim, Tyr would not matter. He continued to pick apart her disertations to Tyr....

" I simply cannot understand why he would befriend you, knowing what he did, unless it were because he knew it would pain me or cause me undo stress at having to work round it. He knew you were prey Tyr. How do you think he was able to recognize your kind when he met you?"

This he recognized as baited words... trying to toy with the emotions of her target to force a choice on them of her own design, without their awareness. He'd undergone such antics with her before, as had Uxor. He knew this was a lie. SHE knew he was not doing it to spite her, for he had already been on his course of spite long before Tyr arrived.

"...You'll have to find another way. If you cannot lie, then find some other means. Perhaps you could learn to hate him? After all...it does seem he's used you to wage a spat with me. Not to mention here I am in your home...where your...Ruse is it? Yes that's her name. Where you and Ruse live. To think he's been cocky enough to presume that he could keep you or her from this. Or Uxor for that matter."

More emotional fuel... fire Tyr up to act rashly. It had worked thus far, for Varro now gathered that Tyr was trying to drive him away from her, as he had seen her attempt to do in the past when situations got bad for those she cared about. Put distance between she and he, so that she could face Mekari alone. It was a plan working so well.

"Who are your contacts. Your associations. Your loved ones. Where will the blade sting the most when they turn it in you. Why do you think they were asking him those questions"

By the time she had related this part of the conversation, Varro's mind had already disected his mother's words. It was only with a certain madness that one could appreciate the possible course of events...

"I cannot kill you, he prevents it. You are a stepping stone. I simply cannot understand why he would befriend you, knowing what he did. it would cause me undo stress at having to work round it. You were prey Tyr. He's been cocky enough to presume that he could keep you from this. Or Uxor for that matter."

The prospect that his own mother had been the one to subject him to his ordeal was not nearly so rage inspiring as that she was the reason Uxor had suffered all things of late. The spider had woven her web carefully, and Varro was going to weave a few of his own. He motioned for Ruse and Tyr to come inside*

Varro: let us handle this, Uxor and I...

*webs were being woven, but it was Varro who now placed the flies*

[Lessah]

"The Prettiest Maidens Sing the Saddest Songs"


Morah, A Bard's Tale
Chapter 2: Corvile


Saldez and Telano reached the Leaky Dingy by early afternoon. Inside the tavern sailors were eating, drinking, and regaling each other with tales of treasure and monsters. Saldez walked over to the bartender and whispered a few words in the man’s ear, slipping a platinum piece in his hand as he did so. The bartender readily pointed to the rear of the tavern that offered a partition for the partial privacy of its more important guests.

Saldez and Telano made their way past the partition where the bartender said the man they sought audience with would be. Corvile, a human thug, was seated at small table with one skinny leg propped up in an empty chair sharpening a large knife. His oily black hair was slick against his skull, and the hairline of his forehead was vastly receded. He had dark eyes and was clean-shaven with a slender frame that suggested he was some sort of rogue.

Flanking him to his rear, along the back wall was a row of hired thugs. Probably recently hired to protect him. The thugs made a move towards the halflings and Corvile raised his hand to stop them.

He recognized them, by their surname if not by their appearance. He smiled as they approached revealing a row of yellow-tobacco stained teeth.

"Boromar!" He greeted in a gruff voice. "I was wondering when you would oblige me with a visit, and so it seems the time is now. Please," he indicated, "have a seat."

Both men pulled chairs from other tables even though the extra seats at Corvile’s table stood empty. "Drink?" The thief offered, though there was no wine or ale on the table.

Saldez waved his hand, and began what he knew would be a difficult, if not futile conversation. "Well met Master Corvile." He began, "I understand you are a businessman."

The thief inclined his head, "I am at that." He agreed resuming the sharpening of his knife.

"Then I have a business proposition for you sir, and with any luck, it will result in minimal bloodshed from both sides of our respective organizations."

Saldez explained and noticed that Corvile seemed amused by the mention of ‘lack of bloodshed’. He continued, "we have a mutual interest that is in need of recovery. I can make it worth your while and more appealing to your employer to come to an agreeable arrangement between us."

Corvile laughed low and deep, and leaned forward on the table with his knife still clenched in his fist. "The only deal we’re going to be making is the one that has the Boromars leaving Stormreach forever! Ha ha!" He whispered close to them and Saldez could smell the man’s rancid breath, "listen up hobbits, Dassk doesn’t want any part of you dirty disgusting little halflings." Corvile moved his knife threateningly towards the men, and his bodyguards responded by drawing their weapons.

"Port Authority!" A man could be heard announcing as officers from the PA moved into inspect the tavern patrons for weapons and illegal substances.

Corvile and all his men made their weapons vanish in the blink of an eye. A man of medium build and sandy hair walked back behind the partition, it was Gindel. "Is everything alright here gentlemen?" He asked with a curious eyebrow raised.

Corvile spoke up, "fine sir, and I hope your evening is uneventful as well, my friends here…"

"Were just leaving," Saldez finished his sentence for him. Both Saldez and Telano stood up and gave curt bows to Corvile. "I bid you goodnight Master Corvile." The halfling was sure to use the name in front of Gindel to ensure the Port Authority would realize who was behind the newest wave of organized crime in Stormreach.

Gindel followed behind the halflings and stopped Saldez before he reached the door of the tavern. "Saldez," he began slowly, "Lessah has asked me to look after her cousin while she is on her mission to Karrnath, I understand she is still with you."

Not wanting his personal life to be intruded upon, Saldez nodded slightly, indicating to the man that he was in fact correct.

"Yes well, I never breech a promise." Gindel explained, "with your permission, I’d like to drop in on her from time to time, I’m afraid Lessah will be gone quite a while."

"I assure you she is well taken care of," he tried to smile and reassure the ranger. In truth the last thing he wanted was the Stormreach Port Authority poking around his home, but his mind was far preoccupied with the situation at hand. He was very concerned the Dassk grab for power in Stormreach was not going to stop at one crop of Dream Lilies, a thought he shared with his cousin as they descended the long set of rickety stairs away from the Leaky Dingy.

"What are we going to do?" Telano asked. "The Dassk will never listen to reason, and old yellow teeth in there is going to be our downfall. Sal, we have to do something!" His cousin exclaimed with a sense of growing frustration and anger.

Saldez shook his head, his hands were all but tied by the constraints Popi had laid out for him. He decided burning the field now would be premature, and he would have the crop destroyed only as a last resort. He turned to his cousin, "I want you to put our best men on that thief," he explained. "I want you to find out everything about him, what he does, and who he does it with."

The two men parted ways in the marketplace proper, as Telano had much more work to do as he had put it. As he walked back to house Jorasco, Saldez thought to himself that Corvile would most likely be giving the same order concerning him. He thought again, of the ranger Gindel, and realized that perhaps the situation might be advantageous after all. He made a mental note to have Morah go and visit the ranger in the next few days.

It was well after dark by the time he reached his villa, the night sky was clear and barely beginning to show evidence of stars. Saldez was tired and hungry and glad to be home as he opened the door. He could smell roast and fresh bread as well. Morah sat in front of the fire with a glass of wine, which she was not drinking, and gave a sigh of relief when she saw Saldez. She closed the distance between them quickly, and threw her arms around him.

"Where have you been?" She asked, "I am starving!" She pulled him over to the table and brought the roast that she had been keeping warm over the fireplace. "You should have told me that craftsman was a halfling Sal, he is such a little devil!" She eluded that the smithy had been flirting with her.

"All men have a weakness for beautiful women Morah, it is their biggest liability." He said as he ate his meal.

She smiled at him warmly, "well, your liability got you bolts at half the marked price!" Morah indicated to the small stack of bolts resting in the corner. "He also threw in twenty of something he called ‘Goblin Slayers.’" Morah continued, "Oh, and when were you going to comment on my dress?"

Saldez had been too thoroughly engaged in his meal to notice much of anything. Slipping easily back into his more charming visage, he sat back in chair and said, "well let me see it then." She stood and turned around for him. The dress was a deep brown color with a high waist and a built-in lace corset on top meant to lift the breasts and make the waist seem smaller. She came close enough to for him to reach out to her and he pulled her onto his lap. "It’s beautiful," he said smoothly, kissing her fingers, "like the girl who wears it."

In response, Morah blushed deeply. Thank you for the shopping trip as well my lord, it was quite fun." She produced the coin purse he had given her earlier that morning and handed it to him. It was still more than half full. "Suppose you’ll be wanting this back." She said handing it to him. "I was a bit nervous, I have never carried this much money before."

Glancing down at the coin purse, he asked, "surely there must have been more in the marketplace that caught your eye." Morah shook her head timidly in response, and Saldez handed the bag back, "as you wish then."

She took the bag and placed it idly on the table and remarked softly, "indeed my lord, I wonder how far my wishing will take me."

"As far as I have said," Saldez responded.

The girl desperately craved a place at his side, and wanted to stop worrying that she would be asked to leave. Taking a deep breath, she said, "then I wish to never return to my cousin’s house."

"Why not Lovely? Does she treat you poorly?"

Morah looked away quickly to hide her disappointment at the response, this is not what she had hoped for. She shook her head back and forth, "oh no, she is very kind to me."

"Then why do you not wish to return?" Saldez asked a bit confused.
A feeling of dread washed over her, and she felt incredibly foolish for having pressed her advantage, "Nevermind," she stood up and tried to walk further away from him, "please don’t worry about it."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him and responded, "no, I do worry about it, please tell me." Morah looked down in response and he grabbed the bottom of her chin gently and turned her face up to him. "Please," he repeated.

She looked at him with glassy eyes, and prayed she wouldn’t cry. "Don’t you want me to be with you?"

Saldez smiled a bit confused, "Of course I do Lovely! What would make you think otherwise?"

Morah felt more sheepish than ever now, "Its just…" she paused trying to find words, "you never said you wanted me to stay." She turned away from him again, "I was afraid you’d send me back."

Saldez grabbed both of her hands and pressed his forehead against hers, "I want you to stay," he whispered softly, "I want you to never leave."
Her emotions carrying her beyond her own words, Morah simply shook her head rapidly to indicate compliance, "ok," she managed to say. She felt a tear break free from one of hers eyes and turned her head quickly to wipe it away so he wouldn’t notice. She smiled at him, "Shall I try again tomorrow my lord?"

He smiled back and responded, "I hope so."

Mischief flashed behind Morah’s eyes then, and she stood up quickly, "I have a present for you."

He looked at her strangely, but allowed himself to be led out of the house, through the darkness, to the beautiful tiered fountain that overlooked the public gardens. At night the fountain was well lit with the use of everbright lamps, which reflected against the cascading water. Saldez noticed the lights on the middle tier of the fountain had been covered and bound making that space quite dark.

Morah led him to the base of the fountain and giggled, "wait here." He watched as she ascended the spiral stairs leading up to the fountain’s second tier neatly dropping her dress on the steps. She looked over her bare shoulder, her blonde hair cascading down her back, at him to make sure he was watching, and smiled when she could see that he was. She slid into the water, and asked simply, "aren’t you going to join me?"

She gasped in surprise as he vaulted himself over the edge of the second tier, slashed into the water, and closed the distance between them. The girl marveled at how quickly he had come out of his clothes. It was as if nothing else existed save for the reflection of the moonlight on the water, the starry sky above them, and what they had for each other.

On an adjacent hill watching with quiet interest sat a human rogue who had been tasked with the dirty business of following the favored son of the Boromar clan. He smiled to himself at this new information. Squinting to see more clearly, he cursed his human night vision for not serving him better.

[Lessah]

The Prettiest Maidens Sing the Saddest Songs



Morah, A Bard's Tale
Chapter 3: The Making of A War


The night wind was unusually quiet for Stormreach. The breeze that would normally blow through the harbor and the streets of the city had abated for the evening. Telano Boromar sat crouched behind some stacks of barrels in an alley of a hidden section of the Stormreach Harbor. Flanking him on either side were two of his distant cousins. The halfling rogue had chosen them specifically for their loyalty to him and for their discretion.

Saldez Boromar had given Telano strict instructions not to make a move against the Dassk until they had gathered enough information to know everything about the extent of the Dassk’s power and influence in the city. Saldez’s larger plan was to strike only when it would make the biggest impact on the Dassk, and perhaps shut them down entirely.

Telano clenched his fists at the thought of doing nothing. He had waited far too long! This was too perfect, too good of an opportunity to pass up. Corvile, the human rogue who was the head of operations for the Dassk in Stormreach, had entered a brothel alone. Indeed, he was still there. Telano could hear the music of a lute and the laughter of many human courtesans’ drift out of an upper window, and down to the street below.

The fact that Corvile was bold enough to walk around the city unescorted was further evidence that the Dassk lacked regard for the Boromars. Telano told himself that after tonight they would have to show his family more respect! He smiled a bit to himself, thinking that if he were able to stop them by himself, he would be rewarded.

The skinny visage that was Corvile appeared on the street. He was overly pleased for several reasons. The samples of Dream Lily he had given to the courtesans were a big success. This house would be a regular customer once the entire field was harvested; a fact he knew would make him very rich.

Glancing around, his dark eyes searched the darkness. His personal guard was supposed to be waiting for him here. Silently he cursed their ineptitude and began walking through the alley unescorted. Corvile heard a noise behind him and stopped abruptly.

“Who’s there?” He spat into the darkness. In response, he heard nothing save the echo of water dripping into the alley from the rooftops and the scurrying sounds of rats moving in the shadows. “Sevante is that you?” He asked again into the nothingness calling the leader of his hired men by name. Still there was no response.

Corvile turned and continued down the ally and was pulled into exquisite darkness abruptly as Telano Boromar pulled a bag over the man’s head and cinched it back so that it could not easily be removed. Telano’s cousins were out then, hitting the rogue repeatedly with clubs. Corvile managed to blindly grab one of them, throw him roughly over his shoulder, and into the wall of the ally. Ripping the bag from his head, Corvile ran at full speed down the ally and into the street that emptied into the doc. Several lucky shots landed on Corvile’s neck and back as his assailants pursued him relentlessly, following him down the deserted street.

Corvile could see the peer in front of him. He tapped an enchanted ring on his finger and began running at very fast pace. So fast, in fact, that his pursuers could not keep up. He sprang into the water from the end of the peer. As he floated away bloody and bruised he could see the silhouette of a halfling holding a club looking out over the water. His eyes narrowed and pure hatred welled up within him. “Boromar…” he said to himself through gritted teeth.




*********



The next morning, birds were singing outside the window of Saldez Boromar’s villa that overlooked the well-manicured gardens of House Jorasco. Light streamed into the open window of the bedroom he shared with his companion, Morah. Saldez stared up at the ceiling with his hands relaxing easily behind his head, the sheets from his bed draped across his hips. Only one thing was on his mind this morning; the Race of The Eight Winds. He had lost more time training than he would have liked dealing with the loss of one of his fields of Dream Lily. Lying in his bed next to the sleeping Morah, Saldez decided silently that he had wasted enough time.

Morah’s soft moaning broke into his thoughts and the pretty girl rolled over to nuzzle her head on Saldez’s chest and wrap her arms around him. In response the halfling brought on of his hands down to stroke the girl’s hair.

“Why did you not go out to train today love?” She asked stretching. It was unusual for the athletic little halfling to be there when Morah woke up.

Smiling, Saldez grabbed the girl playfully and kissed her, “are you trying to get rid of me?”

Morah giggled in return and accepted his affection gratefully. “Of course not, Silly!” She looked at him a bit concerned. “What’s the matter? Are you not feeling well?”

Looking at Morah suddenly and very seriously replied, “I’m fine Lovely, it’s just,” he paused realizing that this would be harder than he expected. “I am arranging for my Glidewing to be transported to Stormreach. I have to train with it as much as I can, or I will not win the race.”

The girl knew that nothing was more important to Saldez than the Race of the Eight Winds. She also realized that time was growing short for him. “When will he be here?” She asked.

“She,” Saldez corrected, “will be here as soon as I arrive in the Sharin to go and get her.” He went silent to allow Morah to process the realization that he was planning to leave.

Her eyes glazed over with sadness and concern, “I could come with you.” She said hopefully, but Saldez was already shaking his head no.

“No Lovely,” he smiled, “where I am headed is no place for a beautiful woman.” He caressed her face and kissed her forehead.

Morah was not pleased at the thought of being left alone, “how long will you be gone?” She asked.

He thought over the matter carefully, there might be more business he had to attend to. “Four days, perhaps five,” he grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers lightly, “I want you to go and visit the ranger from the port authority, your cousin’s friend, Gindel. Do you know him?”

Morah looked displeased, “of course I know him.” She replied, “I wondered how long it would take Lessah to set her dogs on me.” She rolled into Saldez and wrapped her arms around him tightly. “Why can’t I come with you?”

“She only cares about what happens to you Lovely.” Saldez comforted the girl. “I care as well, which is why I think you should pay him a visit.” He lifted her face so he could hold her eyes in his, “promise me you will do this?”

Morah had long since given her whole heart over to the handsome, young halfling, and she could no more refuse a request from him than she could willingly stop her heart from beating. “I will,” she nodded and changed her tone suddenly, “but you must promise that no other girls are going try and steal you away from me while you’re gone!”

Saldez laughed and hugged Morah tightly, “do not worry Lovely,” he assured her, “I cannot be stolen.”

She seemed overly pleased at this response and Morah proceeded to shower the man with affection in an attempt to make him miss her as much as possible.

[Lessah]

The Prettiest Maidens Sing the Saddest Songs



Morah, A Bard's Tale
Chapter 4: Vengence


Morah walked along Silversmith Road in the marketplace proper. The sun was high, casting short shadows down from the large tents of the huge bazaar that was central to the market. Morah adjusted the lute on her back and felt her waste to make sure she still had her coin purse, so she could stop by one of the taverns and a have a some water or juice. She was feeling very thirsty and the dehydration had made her just a bit dizzy.

Saldez had caught a ride out of the city on an airship to the Sharin in order to oversee the transport of his Glidewing, a great flying lizard he would ride in the Race of the Eight Winds. Morah was a little more than upset that he would not return for several days.

Even more disheartening was the fact that Saldez had asked her specifically to go and see Gindel, a human ranger and friend to her cousin Lessah. Gindel was probably the closest thing Lessah would ever have to a boyfriend, and everyone seemed to know it except Lessah. Morah summarized that it was most likely the straight-laced paladin upbringing Lessah’s mother had subjected her that made her so stuffy. Morah grew up surrounded by art and music, boundaries were always questioned, and ideas were reinvented and elevated to new heights. Self-expression through music was all she knew as a young girl.

The little bard had taken to carrying her lute around anywhere she walked now. Occasionally she would be asked to play, and if the mood was right, she would oblige the request. Most of the time, however, she made excuses not to play. Before she became so involved with Saldez Boromar, she refused to play or even carry her lute period. Now things were different. She felt a fundamental change in herself. He had given her confidence back to her. It was a commodity she had been missing badly.

Walking along the street that would lead her to the Soulgate area of the marketplace, she felt a tinge of anger at her cousin Lessah. She could very well take care of herself; she didn’t need someone looking after her. She smiled a bit at that thought. Saldez was very protective of her, she realized, but with him she did not mind. As she arrived at the stairway that would lead her to Gindel’s door, she thought to herself that Saldez had never gotten along with her cousin, and the thought made her a bit sad. Morah wished there were a way to make Lessah see him as he really was.

She knocked on the ranger’s door, and heard a man’s voice shout that the door was open. He seemed very pleased to see her. Gindel sat at his table, and looked both surprised and overly pleased to see Morah. His sandy brown hair had been neatly combed back from his face and he was wearing finer clothing than Morah had ever seen him in. Had he been expecting her?

“My dear Morah!” He smiled a very charming and warm smile at the girl. “What a wonderful surprise!” He got up and crossed the room to shake her hand and give her half of a hug with the other side of his body. “Come in sit down!” He said as he led her back to the table. “I am afraid I do not have much time for visitors today, I am waiting to be interviewed by the harbormaster and several of his men. I really thought you were the messenger they were supposed to send for me when they were assembled and ready.” He admitted.

Morah was suddenly interested, “Why are you interviewing with the harbormaster?” She asked him.

The handsome ranger smiled proudly in response, “it is a formality really, I am being promoted to supervisor of the port authority.” He winked at Morah, “No more late nights of work for me, as I will be expected to oversee security measures during the day.” He leaned closer to Morah, “and no more waking you up in the early morning for breakfast with your cousin.”

“I expect it will be dinner for the two of you then!” Morah smiled.

The ranger’s facial expression changed slightly, “aye lady, in my heart, I hope it will be more.”

Her eyes widened when she realized he was revealing his true feelings for Lessah. “What are you about Gindel?”

“Lady,” he explained as if he were desperate to share the information with someone, “I have made an offer of marriage to your cousin.” Morah got overly excited at the thought of Lessah and Gindel getting married. The ranger stopped her before she could answer, “no lady, she has not agreed to anything, and in fact gave me a list of reasons why a relationship between a human man and a half-blooded halfling would not work.”

“But she did not say no?” Morah asked excitedly.

Gindel paused and smiled a bit, “no, she did not.” The answer elicited a squeal of excitement from the little bard, and a knock came at Gindel’s door alerting him that it was time for his interview.

“Gindel!” Morah exclaimed, “this is wonderful news! We must talk more about this.”

“Aye lady,” Gindel replied apologetically, “we must, but now I am afraid I am required elsewhere.”

“Saldez is gone for a few days, why don’t you meet me for dinner in House Jorasco tomorrow! We need to work out a plan get say Lessah to say ‘yes’ to you!” Morah explained. “If you let her think about it long enough, she will never follow her heart, and she loves you Gindel! I know she does!”

The ranger smiled at the statement, and agreed to meet her the next evening before sunset. She kissed him on the cheek and smiled before she ran off and disappeared down the street, “welcome to the family!” She smiled and waved at him over her shoulder as she headed for House Jorasco and the safety of the villa.

The night was long and lonely for her, and Morah stayed in bed entirely too long the following morning. She thought to herself that she had no real reason to get out of it, and when she did, she did not change out of her nightdress. Instead she went to the villa’s private garden and played her harp for no one. It was something her mother used to do. Morah remembered the woman playing wonderful music on mornings when she was not required to teach students at the barding college where the two of them made their home. Morah lived with her adopted human mother most of her life, and had only come to Stormreach because of Lessah.

The beautiful young girl had never been anywhere else in her life. It was something she wanted to change, but lacked the courage to do something about. Playing her beautiful harp, Morah smiled remembering that Saldez had asked her to go with him to watch him in the Race of the Eight Winds. It was a day she was very much looking forward to.

One of the strings under Morah’s fingers gave out with a slight snap, and pricked the girl’s finger a bit. She withdrew her hand quickly and stopped the small amount of blood that had begun to seep from the tiny cut left by the string. She was unconcerned with her finger, however. The harp had been a gift from Saldez. Morah hurried into the house so she could make herself ready to travel to House Phiarlin and see someone there about repairing the instrument.

Suddenly and violently Morah was grabbed from behind, causing the small harp to fly out of her hands and crash against the back wall of the villa. Someone much larger than herself spun her around and shoved her roughly against the wall. A strange human man, tall, thin, and balding, spoke to her in a quiet and measured tone.

She did not recognize Corvile, the human thug and leader of the Dassk within the city walls. Outside the city, the Dassk were nothing more than Ogres and overzealous hobgoblins. In the city, however, this man was to be feared. Corvile smiled at Morah, revealing all of his very yellow teeth, “Where is your husband?” Corvile asked still pinning the girl against the wall tightly.

Morah’s reply was honest and barely audible, “he is not my husband sir.”

Corvile shook the girl violently, as he did not like the answer to his question, “I want to know where is Boromar, and you are going to tell me!” He yelled at her and Morah could smell his rancid breath as he put his face close to hers causing her to look down and away from him.

She was very near paralyzed with fear, and words would not come to her. A sick feeling welled up in the pit of her stomach. It was an almost uncontrollable feeling of dismay. Morah felt her stomach turn itself out and when she opened her mouth, only vomit came out, it spilled down the front of her dress and onto her assailant as well.

He took this as a terrible act of defiance, and backhanded the girl’s face, scraping the ring he wore across the right side of her face very near her eye, leaving a considerable gash. Blood streamed down the right side of her head. Morah screamed through violent tears and tried to get away from him; she could not.

"Where is he?" Corvile asked again loudly. When she did not answer, his anger became an uncontrollable rage, he threw the girl roughly though the door of the villa and into the house. She landed hard on her right side, and the snap of a bone in her arm could be heard from across the room.

Corvile entered the house and grabbed Morah by the hair and drug the screaming girl around the villa behind him, causing a several trails of blood, vomit, and urine to cross over themselves. He searched in vain for Saldez, and when he did not find him, he grew even angrier with Morah.

"You give him this message for me!" He said as he leaned down to her. Morah was gone, out of her own mind and shut down from fear. The last thing she remembered was praying for her own death to come as quickly as possible.

By sunset a soft knock came at the door of the villa. “Morah,” a male voice said from outside the door, it was Gindel. He knocked again, “Morah, are you there?”

When no one answered, the ranger tried the door and found it to be slightly open. “Dear gods!” He exclaimed and carefully scooped up the unconscious girl in his arms and dashed out of the house with her as fast as his legs would carry him. Her small body was limp and unresponsive. He ran feverishly to the clerics of the Order, the ranger prayed she was alive.

[Lessah]

The Prettiest Maidens Sing the Saddest Songs


Morah, A Bard’s Tale
Chapter 5: The Infirmary

Pain. A terrible wrenching pain in her head and in her abdomen woke Morah from a fitful sleep. She had heard chanting in her sleep, and assumed it was she the clerics were at prayer over her. It could not have been, however. The voices were too distant. It must have been a dream.

She grabbed her aching head. How long had she been asleep? She didn’t know. Her mouth felt dry and sticky as if she had tried to swallow a handful of sheep’s wool. What had happened again? She closed her eyes and flinched at the memories of the ordeal. What few memories she had of it. She had been in and out of consciousness she knew since being delivered to the Order by the ranger Gindel. She had nearly died, that much she knew for sure.

Morah tried to push thoughts of the attack down in the dark corners of her mind and slowly crawled out of bed. Her bare feet touched the cold floor and she crept down the long corridor of the infirmary. She passed two occupied beds. One held a male elf, she knew to be Elorick Silvershade. The other was a woman who looked so pale she could have very well been dead. In fact, her positioning on the bed was very much like a person resting in death, but Morah could see shallow breathing escaping the girl’s lips. A cleric was moving around with a candle on the other side of the room, and Morah made her way quietly passed him so as not to disturb his work.

She crept all the way down the stairs in her bare feet and tiptoed into the kitchen. It was empty. The staff would not start making breakfast and bread for several hours. Morah was thirsty and the walk down the long steps had made her very tired. She stumbled a little in the kitchen looking for a cold waterskin.

“Who’s there?” Asked a confident male voice behind her. Morah turned, and looked up at an overly tall and handsome knight of the Order.

“Hello Sir Siward,” the girl replied sweetly. He moved into the kitchen with concern written all over his face.

“You should be in bed.” He lectured her. Siward had been present in the Hall on the night Morah was brought in. There was much speculation and scandal surrounding who might have attacked the pretty little bard, and why. There were even wild rumors that Saldez Boromar himself had attacked the girl, but they were only rumors. Morah had not heard any of them, and Siward thought to himself that she wouldn’t listen to them even if she did.

He watched as the little halfling drank deeply, and drained as much water as a thirsty grown man on a hot day in the sunshine from the waterskin. He bent down in order to get a better look at the girl’s face. “Who did this to you child?”

The bard thought to herself that she was likely older than Siward, but let the remark pass as the knight showed genuine concern for the girl. She answered him slowly, “I, I am not sure sir.”

He nodded, “Do you remember what the person looked like? Was it just one or were there more?”

Morah became a little uncomfortable with that thought, but answered as best she could. “There was only one, sir.” She explained slowly. “I have never seen him before.” She felt a pain then, like someone was twisting and wringing her underbelly out like dirty wet laundry. She flinched a little and then sat down in a chair to hide the cramp.

Siward was too caught up in the questioning to notice her wince, “what did he look like Morah?”

She looked down, “skinny, mostly bald, yellow teeth, bad breath.” She suddenly started remembering more than she wanted to and then fell silent. The man had given her a warning. He had left her alive as the bearer of a living message to the man she had chosen to love. Fear rushed through her at the thought of how Saldez would react at such a horrendous insult. She flinched again as another sharp pain and a terrible cramp ripped through her core.

This time Sir Siward took note of it. “Morah, are you alright? Perhaps we had better get you back upstairs?”

She looked at him with glassy eyes and sweat falling from the sides of her face. Her pain was constant now, and she could not ignore it. She tried to stand. She felt something wet and sticky on her and looked down in horror at the cotton nightdress she was wearing. It was thoroughly stained with blood. More blood dripped slowly down her legs and onto her bare feet and the cold floor. She bent over and looked up at the knight.

“I am not well sir.” She collapsed and fell forward. He caught her easily and cradled her like a child in his arms. Siward carried her up the stairs and into the infirmary. Hannible was there with an incredulously worried look on his face.

“What is she doing out of bed?” He asked purposefully.

“It doesn’t matter now, she needs help Hannible! She is burning up!” Siward carried the girl back to her bed, and Hannible began chanting prayers over the little bard.

“What’s wrong, “Siward asked worried, “will she be alright?”

Hannible shook his head noncommittally. “We feared this would happen.” He explained. “It is not uncommon for halfling females to miscarry their first couple of pregnancies, but in this case there was a significant amount of external force on the womb. It weakened her.”

A look of rage washed over Siward’s face at the news. He wanted to find Morah’s attacker and kill him with his bare hands. How could someone do this to such a sweet girl! “You mean,” he hesitated, “her attacker forced himself on her?” He asked through gritted teeth, his hand was unconsciously on the hilt of his weapon.

Hannible replied matter of factly, “Yes, but in this case the pregnancy at least saved her from the danger of bearing the oversized child of a human or elf... or whoever did this.” He felt her head. “She is in significant danger of infection now. If you could please, go wake the rest of the clerics?”

“I will,” the knight replied and hurried off.

Morah was in shock. She did not know she had been pregnant. This information was new. She opened her eyes and looked at Hannible. “Am I going to die?” She asked him simply.

The sober and serious cleric looked into her eyes, “I don’t think so.” He answered honestly. “Sleep now child.” He put his hand over her eyes and closed them for her, muttering the words of a sleep spell as he did.

Morah drifted off, thinking to herself that she was probably older than he was and that he should not call her ‘child.’ It hardly mattered. All she could think of now was her own child and the loss of it as she faded into a magically induced sleep.

[Lessah]

The Prettiest Maidens Sing The Saddest Songs


Morah, A Bard’s Tale
Chapter 6: The Return of Saldez Boromar

The air ship had flown through the night. As it docked on one of the sky platforms, Saldez allowed the wind the wind to rush over his short, bright blonde hair as he looked out over the quiet city. The salty air that blew in from the harbor flew into his nostrils and brought with it all of the memories he had collected since moving to the city. The sunrises in Stormreach, he thought to himself were some of the most spectacular in all of Xendrick. He felt glad to be back in Stormreach, he had missed his home.

He tried unsuccessfully to shrug off the irritation he felt towards his family. He had not been greeted with the welcome he had been expecting from them. Instead he had been repeatedly berated for the loss of the field to the hated Dassk. What’s more, it had been openly suggested that he throw the Race of the Eight Winds to the profit of his family. It was the subject of heated debate the entire time he was in the Sharin. The harsh words of his family hung over him still like a dark cloud before a heavy rain.

He closed his eyes to try and block out some of those thoughts. He was dirty, hungry, and tired. He wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl in bed with his Lovely and sleep. He had missed her terribly. At least he could take comfort in something!

A terrible squawking sound rang out from the deck of the ship behind him. It was the too loud complaints of his Glidewing. Saldez smiled slightly as he approached the magnificent beast. Glowing with smooth gray and shinny green skin, the creature stood two meters tall and three meters in length. It resembled an overgrown lizard with wings, but boasted a mouth that was more beak-like in appearance. The beautiful creature flapped its leathery wings in mild protest at having been chained to the deck of the ship. It was obvious she wanted to fly!

Saldez came over and quieted her, with soft words. He stroked her face and scratched her head between the eyes, something she liked very much. He rested his body against her great neck and closed his eyes. “Easy girl,” he said to his mount. “Soon you will have the skies of all of Stormreach as your playground.”

The ship’s captain cleared his throat behind the halfling. Saldez turned to face the man, “Sir,” he began uncomfortably, “I don’t mean to be rude…”

Saldez managed a smile, “it’s alright Captain,” he comforted the man who seemed overly concerned about such a large creature on the deck of his ship.

“Just how do ye figure on getting off my ship without those big claws tearing the deck apart sir?” The Captain removed his hat and very concerned expression washed across his face.

Saldez grinned broadly, “no worries Captain!” He said and grabbed his pack and strapped it to the Glidewing’s back, saddled and released it from its tether to the deck. He crawled up between the shoulder blades of the winged beast and strapped himself into what appeared to be a safety harness. The little halfling leaned forward in the smooth saddle, and whispered quiet words to his mount.

“Softly, softly, softly,” the Captain thought he heard the halfling say. He watched as the beast tiptoed slowly to the edge of the ship. The ship titled a bit and strained under the weight. The Captain’s eyes flew open wide for fear his ship would break!

In the next moment, the ship righted itself, the deck was empty, and the Glidewing was barreling towards the ground fast! The rush of air and adrenaline hit Saldez, and he smiled as he said, “now!” The Glidewing opened its wings wide and swooped up, catching itself on the wind. It hovered there for a moment beating its wings just feet above the fountain of the Stormreach Marketplace situated in front of the entrance gate to the House Denith.

Several young women were gathered there and watched him with keen interest. Saldez simply couldn’t help himself, “hello ladies!” He smiled and winked at them before circling back upward. They all gasped and waved wildly back at him. From behind the fountain, he thought he spotted the Stormreach Chronicler who was always writing scandalous stories about him, but he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t care! He didn’t have to explain himself to anyone at this moment. There was no race, no family, no lost field of dream lilies to worry over. There was only the bright open sky over Stormreach.

He relished for a moment in the flight as he circled the entire city. He passed by most of the buildings, including the hall of the Order of the Sword and Rose. He would take the creature to a stable set up on the outskirts of House Jorasco where he made his home. He leaned into the saddle and flew higher and higher, making playful loops around the spires that towered over the city. On the ground, the Glidewing seemed awkward, like a clumsy duck out of the water. In the air, however, she was graceful and free.

An hour passed like a brief moment and Saldez finally decided he would stable the creature and go home. He smiled to himself as he flew over the people walking in the streets of Stormreach down below like so many tiny ants. He was so glad to be back home!

[Lessah]

The Prettiest Maidens Sing The Saddest Songs


Morah, A Bard’s Tale
Chapter 7: Lovely


The halfling Saldez Boromar reluctantly left his glidewing at a stable outside House Jorasco. As he made his way through all the well-manicured gardens of the province, he felt strange. The sensation of walking on his own two legs instead of flying made him mentally plan more time with the creature. He loved flying. He thought to himself that Morah would have to help him name his glidewing.

He smiled again, this time in anticipation of seeing his lovely bard. The villa that was situated against a small grove of giant trees, looked empty, however. As he approached his front door, he did not hear any music playing from the garden where the girl liked to sit. Perhaps she was out.

He tried to open his front door, but it proved to be locked. Morah had been using the rear entrance by the garden anyway, and she likely wasn’t expecting him. He trotted around the house to the back, where his small private garden was. Tiny red flowers were blooming from the bushes that lined the walls of the garden, their fragrant aroma filled Saldez’s nose as he hopped over them.

The garden was in full bloom, all around, red blossoms mixed with large purple flowers with giant petals that attracted butterflies. Saldez deposited his bag on the stone patio next to the back door. The house was dark and deathly quiet. Light cascaded in through the curtains and cast playful shadows on the marble floor. The halfling moved to open the door, and stepped on something hard. Looking down, he noticed several modest chunks of wood on the ground. He bent to retrieve one of them. It was a polished piece of dark wood that had been polished smooth. He turned it over in his hand, rubbing the smooth edges with his thumb. Closer inspection of the fragment revealed a tiny musical note carved carefully into the side of it.

A shock of cold ran down Saldez’s back as he realized the fragment’s origin. This was Morah’s harp! He had given it to her as a gift after their first night in the villa. He looked around the back patio and found the rest of it. The crown had not become fully separated from the foot of the harp. A few unbroken strings bound what was left of the instrument together. Worry washed instantly over the halfling’s face. Again he moved for the door.


“Saldez!” A familiar voice came running up behind him before he could even set foot in his own front door. The halfling turned around and recognized the speaker immediately.

“Well met Andark…” His words were cut off.

Andark fixed him with serious and dark eyes, very unusual for such a resilient man, and spoke terrible words through gasping breaths. “Morah is in the hall at the Order.” He explained catching a better hold on his breath. “I know she would want you to be there as soon as possible.”

Saldez looked at him in mild confusion. It did not surprise him that Morah would seek the company of her friends, but the look on his friend’s face and the broken pieces of harp told him there was more to the story.

“There’s been an accident.” Andark managed to say. “She’s going to be alright!” Andark explained putting his hands up quickly to calm Saldez down. The little rogue wanted to say more, but he couldn’t. The athletic little halfling’s eyes flew open wide with worry. He dropped the piece of harp he was carrying, and started running. Andark did his very best to keep up with him, but Saldez was a professional athlete. He reached the door of the Order’s Hall well before his friend.

Sweat still ran fresh down the sides of his face as he moved to open the door. He knew exactly where he was going. He had spent time in the Order’s infirmary himself after his own ordeal with the Halfling War Counsel.

Music from a lute stopped him dead on his feet. “I hear my lovely.” He said aloud, “where is she?”

“Up here.” Morah answered looking down and smiling at him. She had crawled out of the window as soon as she realized that there was halfling on a glidewing flying through the city. “Think you can catch me?”

Saldez felt as if his heart would burst, he was so relieved to see her. In reply to her, he lifted his arms and Morah jumped down to him from the second story balcony. He caught her easily enough, and allowed the momentum to roll him onto his back with her over him. She dusted herself off, and helped the halfling to his feet. He in turn swept her into a great hug and whirled her around. Had the girl not been so weak and dizzy, she would have enjoyed the sensation very much.

He smiled at her. “I was so worried about you Lovely!” He sighed with relief, “Andark said there had been an accident.” She did not speak at this. Instead she hugged him tightly. She was torn between telling him what happened and protecting him from the too awful truth.

He put his fingers under her chin and raised her head up for a gentle kiss. He looked at her and tugged a bit on the ends of her long bangs. “You changed your hair.” He said referring to the way she had parted her hair to cover most of the right side of her face. He smiled at her. “I like it.”

Saldez moved to kiss her again when a familiar female called his name out from the other side of the street. “Saldez Boromar!” A sturdy halfling female came walking over from the other side of the street. She had green eyes, and bright blonde hair that was pulled back away from her face. Morah thought she recognized the girl, Saldez knew he did.

“What are you doing here?” Saldez asked harshly.

“I might be asking ye duh same ting!” She walked right over to Saldez and smacked him right on the back of the head.

“Owe!” He protested, and glared at the girl. Rubbing his head he turned to Morah, “Lovely, you remember my sister Saydee,” he said in a mildly irritated introduction.

“Of course!” Morah answered remembering. She had met Saydee only once. Morah wondered if his sister even knew how close they had become since her abrupt disappearance from Stormreach. She doubted it. Saldez was intensely private about their relationship so far. The life he had with Morah was a sanctuary to him, and she understood his need for isolation. Morah backed away from him a bit. She wanted to give him the option not to say too much about them to his sister.

Saldez caught her easily behind him and drew her by the hand to his side and put his arm over her shoulders. “Don’t run away.” He whispered to her in her ear. It was a gesture that made her hold him very tightly around the waste.

“What are you doing outside?” Andark asked Morah incredulously as he trotted up the street.

“I was waiting for Sal!” The little bard protested putting her head on the man’s shoulder giving Saydee an excellent look at what was under her hair. In reaction, Saldez’s sister smacked her brother on the back of the head again.

“Owe!” He flinched, “what did you do that for?”

“Cuase yer an idiot!” Saydee answered.

Saldez moved to smack his sister on the head in well-practiced retaliation, but Morah stopped him. “Why don’t we all go inside,” Morah suggested.

The hall boasted a sizeable kitchen and dining area where fighters would eat their meals and magic users would study their books. The four of them: Saldez, Morah, Saydee, and Andark sat down at a table along the far wall.

“So what happened to you Lovely,” Saldez asked Morah as he helped to a seat, “I have not heard why you ended up in the infirmary in the first place.”

Morah felt conscious of all eyes on her, she glanced quickly at Andark and then at the floor. “I... I fell.” She did not look back at Andark, but she knew the halfling rogue was looking at her in utter disbelief.

Saldez chuckled a little and kissed her forehead over the top of her hair. Morah winced because it was right over the spot of a healing bruise. He didn’t seem to notice. “You must be more careful Lovely.” He was relieved and amused.

His sister Saydee, however, was not amused. She narrowed her eyes at Morah. “And jest whose fist did ye fall on?” She asked sarcastically.

“Just what exactly are you doing here?” Saldez spoke markedly irritated words towards his sister.

“What do ye tink Sallie?” Saydee asked as if the answer should be obvious. “That duh family’s gonna let ye ruin everyting? I come te clean up yer mess… as usual!” She added. Saldez glared at his sister with an expression that told her he did not want to talk about the situation just now.

He felt a soft hand on his arm then, “Sal.” I was Morah. “Will you go and get me some water?”

“Aye, and fetch me an ale while yer at it!” Saydee said propping her feet up on the corner of the table.

Saldez fixed his sister with a look of disbelief. “When did you start drinking ale?” He asked irritated at the very thought.

Saydee raised her voice to a whine and repeated his question mockingly, “When did you start drinking ale…” She changed her tone and leaned forward, “Don’ ye be telling me my business Sallie. I ain’t telling ye yours!” She pointed straight to Morah who looked down and away awkwardly.

Saldez started to make an angry reply at his sister when an uncomfortable Andark stood up and intervened. “Saldez, why don’t I go, it’s no bother.”

He glanced up quickly at Andark. He had not expected to see his sister, and her presence here edified his family’s current disapproval of his handling of their affairs in Stormreach. He broke eye contact with Andark and glanced at Morah. He could see she was very uncomfortable. This was not the home coming he had envisioned. He felt suddenly concerned for her; it was her he had come to the Order for after all. He nodded solemnly, stood up, and kissed Morah lightly on the top of her head.

“I’ll be right back then.” He whispered to her. As he walked away, he could feel Saydee’s eyes boring into him.

Morah could feel that same steel gaze shift over to her. “Ye gonna tell him what really happened? Or ye gonna make me do it?” Morah did not know Saydee very well at all, but she also didn’t know who else could be trusted with the information.

The small girl fixed Saydee with a very serious gaze. “Your brother is in danger Saydee,” Morah tried to explain the situation as best she could. “The attack on me, it was meant for him!” She looked down as if she might cry, and desperately tried not to. “I’m afraid for him to know the truth, it would make him insane.”

Saydee cocked her head at Morah, “by not telling him yer puttin yerself in even more danger, and him as well.” She jerked her head slightly in his direction.

Morah looked up at Saydee and the hair covering her bruised and scared eye fell back a bit. “I have not said all.” She breathed deathly serious. Morah leaned over and put her hand on Saydee’s. “I carried a child,” she cut Saydee’s words off with a look and slight shake of her head. “No more,” she whispered and then smiled sadly as if entertaining thoughts she had not previously encountered. “You would have been Auntie Saydee.”

Saydee’e eyes flew open wide with rage. She got up and marched towards the kitchen, “Saldez Boromar!” The shout echoed throughout the hall.

“Morah, what are you doing out of bed!” Asked Siward as he approached the girl with great concern.

Morah had left the infirmary in order to seek an audience with Aribell Kross. She told Aribell about her cousin’s strange behavior, but Aribell seemed unconcerned. After seeing the spectacle of a glidewing flying around the city, she was too excited and nervous to go back to the infirmary. Only Andark had saved her from trying to run all the way to Saldez’s villa in house Jorasco.

In response to his query, she smiled a bit and pointed meekly towards a halfling female dragging a halfling male over towards them by the ear. Saldez was complaining loudly for his sister to let him go. It was a request she denied and shoved roughly back into his seat at the table. The man’s face was red with anger and embarrassment until he looked up questioningly at Sir Siward. The knight was making intense eye contact with him.

“We have kept the lady safe in your absence Master Saldez.” Siward explained. “Between myself, Andark there, and Master Gindel, the lady has never been alone.” Siward turned back to Morah. He took his very large hand and brushed back the girl’s hair well away from her face. Saldez froze like a temple statue. Siward examined her marks critically. “It looks better,” he remarked to her. He nudged the underside of her chin with his index finger. “You need rest lady, you still look flush.” He looked now to Saldez, “promise me she’ll make it back upstairs soon.”

Saldez nodded quiet thanks to Siward as the knight departed. He looked at Morah now, and his sister spoke serious and quiet words to him. “Look at her Sallie,” the girl explained, “no fall coulda made des marks.”

A renewed concern washed over his face for her, the same fear he had felt when he found her broken harp. “Someone did this to you Lovely?” His eyes were saturated with hurt.

Morah nodded her head slowly and whispered a soft “yes.” She couldn’t bare to see him this way. Now the ugly truth would be known, and it would change him forever. The thought of loosing him to his enemies scared her much more however, so she pressed on. With a deep breath she explained what happened.

“A man came to the house looking for you.” She looked down and away from him. “He was not very happy to find you not at home.” Her lower lip trembled a bit as she spoke. Saldez slid out of his seat and knelt on the floor beside her chair. He held her hand and did not appear intensely angry. It was a gesture that gave Morah the strength to continue. She went on to describe what he looked like in great detail to him. His face tightened with understanding at who it was, but he said nothing openly.

He kissed the fingers of her hand as he held it. “Did he say anything else?” In truth the man was livid, but upsetting Morah would only cause her to retreat further from the situation. Saldez was sure he knew who her attacker had been. He just needed a bit more confirmation. Morah looked away from him, very close to tears. He turned her face back to him. “It’s alright Lovely.” He assured her. Andark was walking back over to them, and Saydee waved him away.

Morah did not notice. The girl took a deep breath and spoke, “he said to tell you that you should have killed him when he had the chance.” She began sobbing. Saldez held her and allowed her to bury her head in chest. He flashed deathly serious eyes over to his sister, offering a small glimpse of his growing anger.

Saydee seemed pleased that her brother reacted this way, he would demand action soon. She realized that telling the rest of the story would drive him right over the edge. “There’s more brother,” Saydee whispered after Morah had calmed down a bit. “Ye think she’d be here still if she just got roughed up a bit? Duh fact is dat she was carrying a wee Boromar in her belly.”

Saldez went white like he had been hit in the face with a brick. He looked at Morah for confirmation. She smiled regretfully at him and spoke. “I… I only just found out myself.” She explained meekly. “Sir Hannible said that I might otherwise be in danger of carrying the child of… him.” She looked down to hide her embarrassment, “but Hannible said there was no chance of it because that task had already been done.”

Morah heard a gasp escape him and he bent low, putting his head in her lap. He sobbed again. Morah leaned over and tried to console him, “I swear to you, I do not remember. Though I admit I suspected, I did not know about that baby. I would have told you if I was sure.” She hesitated, “do you believe me?”

Saldez raised his head and wiped his eyes. He tried to answer her and failed. He nodded a ‘yes’ instead.

His sister put a hand on his shoulder in a rare consoling gesture. “I know who it was, Sallie. I’ve been to see Telano.” She spoke low so her voice would not carry. “It was Corvile,” she saw his recognition of the name. “Telano said him and the boys tried to kill him.” She rolled her eyes and huffed, “guess it didn’t work.”

Saldez was nearly shaking with anger. With great effort he looked at Morah. “We should get you back in bed.” He turned around and glanced at Saydee. The look spoke volumes about what he intended to do next.

Morah protested. She wanted to go back to the villa with Saldez. Saydee convinced her that it would be much safer for the time being if the girl remained in the Order’s infirmary. Saldez took great care saying goodbye to her. He looked closely at her bruises, trying to soak in every detail of what happened to her. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, and kissed her fingers lightly.

“Get some rest now.” He said as he turned away from her. His expression changed instantly. His sister fell in behind him with a slight smile on her face.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XV "The means and The End" Chapter 1

*Mekari watched the sleeping forms beneath the sheets with patience. Killing Tyr was one thing, but Ruse being there complicated matters. She deliberated which of her powers to use on which of the pair, in order to ensure minimal chance of interuption. The easiest way would be to use them against one another she determined. If Tyr was made aware that by harming Mekari, Ruse would suffer, it would quell any effort on Tyr's part to act on the offensive.

It had been a long day for Mekari, watching and waiting for the time when Uxor and Varro left the Kalashtar and the female Bard alone. When the opportunity had arisen, Mekari had walked the walls, teleported, and slipped inside with ease.

Ruse and Tyr had entered Varro's new home, intending to wait for Varro and Uxor to 'take care of' things. Better wording could not have been used, in Mekari's opinion.

Mekari came within range to enact the power upon her target, but as she felt the spell take hold, she had a vivid awareness. This was not Ruse... or even Tyr. Her consciousness had barely wrapped round the presence when her eyes were graced by confirmation, as a figure - pale in the moonlight that streamed in from the window - swept a blade out towards her. A whirl of sand came up into Mekari's face, and she felt her footing give away to the force of the impact. Before her sight was gone from her, as sand worked into her eyes to blind her, she took satisfaction in seeing her attacker, Uxor, washed over in a wave of flame. At least that precautionary power had served to drive back her enemy. She spoke aloud, despite being upon the ground and blind* Despite my best surveilence of you, I suspected you might try and prevent my work. Good to see my choice of protection was fire, just for you.

*She heard no reply from Uxor, but there was a voice... Varro's* Tell me why you hired him. I have the how; the what; the who; even perhaps where. But I still don't have why. Now I could tell you my guess... that you needed me to see Tyr as a threat to my way of life, so I would give you the go ahead to kill her. But that's too simple for you. So I want you to tell me why you sent that forged after us.

Mekari: Very clever blinding me and knocking me down. Surprised you didn't just try and sing to m...

Varro: *he interjected* Ruse is a bard. You would have prepaired for anything she or Tyr either one could dish out to you. Had to go for something you wouldn't expect.

Mekari: How did you know I would come to your home, and not simply go to Tyr's?

Varro: I didn't. See I learned it's very much useless trying to second guess you, what with your madness and all...even picking the least sane of choices would still leave me arguing with myself. So I flipped a coin. Now since I know it is in fact pointless to second guess anything you do, or the reasoning behind it, that is why I'm asking you now. Why?

Mekari: And if I don't answer you, you will torture me?

Varro: No. I just thought it would be polite to offer you a chance at explaination. Whether you answer me or not, I am going to kill you. *footsteps approached her, and she felt his hands lift her up to her feet*

Mekari: Seems a poor method for convincing me to cooperate, and give you that satisfaction; ill-advised too. The threat of death will not bring you your answers.

*consuming pain rolled through her, as Mekari felt the burn of a solid rod passing through her chest... the strike of a rapier if she had to guess... only this sent waves of agony into her very being at the mere touch of the thing. Reflexively, her hands went to grasp it, but were driven back as the sensations compounded with further contact with the weapon. Her sight was coming back, and she stood facing her son, who held the other end of the weapon.*

Varro: ...then die.

*She concentrated to bring herself past the situation at hand, and permit her the ability to focus. All her focus fell upon Uxor, who was doubled over upon the floor, grasping her chest.*

Mekari: *healing herself some, but not bothering to remove the blade* What you are able to do to me, I will mend past...but will she? Try and kill me then... you know my ways, and you must by now be aware, my darling, that your new bride and I are bonded. That which I suffer, she too suffers of.

*Varro looked to Uxor, who clasped at her chest, but staggered to her feet, determined and calm. This was short lived, as Varro heard - rather more felt than anything - a distinctive and abrupt disturbance of the room, as a mild shock wave rippled through. Mekari was doing something to her again, and back to her knees she dropped with a crash.*

Mekari: I will kill her before you can kill me. Stop now, and I will let her live.

*Before he could reply, he heard Uxor's voice in his mind, having been communicating with her a time earlier. He felt a sense that she was meditating past the pain in order to speak with him*

Uxor: <I will never be your source of pain again Varro. Don't let others use me to get to you, to twist you to what they want. I am not afraid to die for you. If she kills me, I knew no greater joy in life than being yours at last. I will find my end with more than acceptance of my karma, I will find it with a smile.>

*Varro listened to the two battle for attention in his mind. The death of Mekari. The death of Uxor. The end of both. But the end of games. The end of maddened manipulation. As Mekari proceeded to describe the manner by which she would bring about Uxor's death before his eyes, Uxor's words cut through all despair like a lighthouse beacon to a ship struggling through stormy waters. It was not the words she used now however, it was the words she had spoken to him once before...*

"You told me once Mekari was a liar...to trust nothing that she said..."

Mekari was a liar.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XV "The means and The End" Chapter 2

*The forest floor was covered in leaves. Tiny ferns were springing up periodically amid the bamboo leaves, and a sense...
Thousands of dying animals shrieked in her mind, and the thoughts on the forest wavered. That a part of herself was slipping out of her did not matter. The woods, the ferns...

Uxor struggled against Mekari's attacks, feeling herself becoming physically and mentally weaker. Her attempts at speaking with Varro, as well as her diligent meditation, were lapsed repeatedly by a lost sense of time. She figured it had much to do with whatever Mekari was doing to her with that shriek. Her chest ached from the phantom wound. Uxor remembered once that Mekari had so bound herself to Ragyr once, and that any injury upon Mekari resulted in injury to the warforged. Her meditation on her inner woods was evaporating rapidly amid Mekari's mental manipulations. Instead, she forced open her eyes, and looked to Varro... something she could focus on, that was pleasing, and would not vanish. He was walking toward Mekari, who as yet still had the appearence of Uxor.

It had startled her initially when she sprang from the bed to face herself, as if she were attacking a mirror. However, Mekari's previous fondness of assuming Uxor's visage had given the Matron of Ice enough of a taste to not be entirely thrown off by it. No doubt Mekari had adopted the appearence to put Tyr off guard in the attack. That moment of hesitation - questioning if it were Uxor or not - would have been long enough to strike. Unfortunately, Varro was not as prepaired. He had hesitated tremendously, even so far as picking Mekari up, rather than impaling her upon the floor while she was down. Uxor knew that she was still a handicap for Varro. This meant Mekari could use her against him. She tried as hard as she could to get through to Varro that his choice needed to be his own, not controlled by Uxor's well being. Her communications with Varro were abruptly haulted by the feeling of her legs, midrift, and wrist all coming under harm at once. At least... it felt to be so. She could feel where the acid washed her legs... feel hunks of her shin being carved away... the bones in her wrist breaking... the stabbing and blugeoning wounds to her torso... her nose pouring blood as it too was crushed... the pain of her forcefully extracted tooth roared to life... Uxor looked down to assess the damage and pool of her own blood...

There was none, only a bit from Mekari's wound she suffered from. She looked to her wrist, which was whole and unmarred. This realization did not stop the pain however, and she was doubled over upon the floor of it. She could hear them talking.*

Mekari: Stay back... the closer you come, the worse it will be for her. Even now, she relives the memory of her torments. If you love your wife, stop. *Mekari was struggling to try and fuss with removing the blade from herself, but each of her attempts was thwarted by the aura of it, which drove her back in repulsion*

*Varro stood in front of Mekari, and put his hands upon the rapier*

Mekari: *she glared into Varro's eyes* If I die, so too does she. Kill me, and I will ensure she is dead.

Varro: No... you won't.

*Uxor braced herself for further injury, as she saw Varro pull the rapier back swiftly, and thrust it up and into Mekari. Nothing. Uxor felt no further pain. Her body was still wracked with the haunt of old wounds as if they were happening in the present, but she did not feel the fresh sting of his attack. Gradually, she felt the pains subsiding, and she stopped holding her eyelids shut, and looked at the pair in confusion. Varro and Mekari were staring at one another, but Mekari was mostly being held up by Varro's arm, which wrapped round her, holding her aloft upon the weapon. If it were not for the gleam of metal protruding from Mekari's back, they looked as if they were dancing together. Mekari's hands traced up to Varro's face, petting upon it with fondness. One of these hands moved to her own face, which proceeded to lift off something. Her form waivered, and Uxor recognized that she was removing her mask, and subsequently the disguise. She pushed back the spider helm, which dropped to the floor behind her. Only once had Uxor seen Mekari's true appearence, but the memory was etched into her... and it was as Uxor recalled most clearly. The beauty of the face was marred now only by the stream of red that ran from her mouth, down the soft neck, and disappeared beneath the shimmering collar of the glamoure weave cloak. The two, mother and son, stared at one another for a time longer, before Mekari turned to look at Uxor. The smug smile corrolated with the tone of the words that came to Uxor's mind*

Mekari: <Keep him safe. He is yours to watch over.>

Uxor: <I will never 'keep' or 'watch' him... we protect each other.>

Mekari: <Such mercy you show me, daughter.> *and her gaze returned to Varro, who slid the blade back again further, and dipped the handle of it down further, changing the angle of the blade to a steep climb*

Varro: Die before her. Die before me. Return home, Mother.

*Mekari smiled broadly at him as he ran the rapier, Zoltando's rapier - given to Uxor and Varro for their wedding to 'aide the groom' - up into her unto the hilt. The kalashtar's form sank limply into his grasp, hanging against the metal of the rapier as if slipping into a contented rest. She didn't cry out or make any sound other than a slow outward sigh, that was not followed with the sound of air flow inbound to complete the cycle of breathing. She simply went still, gazing at Varro with the smile, and Varro himself was also motionless.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XV "The means and The End" Chapter 3

---((Chat Transcript))---

Tyr: *pads barefoot through the rooms to her favorite place in the house: the bath.*

*As she was getting ready for the bath, her mind is met by a familiar sensation... the crest of lusty joys of the world, though it feels a bit different this time. She recognized it as being Varro, but the imagry was a lot more perverse, and offered up the darker pleasures of the world, rather than the usual jumble of simply everything. This was followed by* <Sister... are you alright?>

Tyr: *muscles loosened by her own recent activities tighten up and twist deep in the center of her belly, that place still kept sacred as the imagery evokes a reluctant response* <brotherman? I am... well. What is it>

Varro: <You're safe.> *and the tone seemed to come with a certain finality to it*

Tyr: <I'm at home, Varro what is happening?>

Varro: <I'm outside. I had to contact you this way first so you would know for certain it wasn't her. Otherwise something tells me you'd be pawing my face for hours... and still not satisfied even then> *there was a mental glower*

Tyr: <you're here? I'll be right there to let you two in> *the automatic assumption is that Uxor is with him. Since the earlier encounter with Mekari, her own robe is a sodden mass in a corner, so she grabs up one of Ruse's flimsy little wraps with a grimace and heads to the ground level* <go around back. smaller door>

Varro: <As you wish.>

Tyr: *on her way, she grabs a thin, dark sheet and drapes it over the door lintel, so that when it's opened, one would have to step into the material before actually being in the house proper* <Come inside>

*a hand felt around at the fabric for a moment to push it aside, and through it came the form of Varro, who at first eyed the sheet, but seemed to understand its purpose* Varro: Good call. Though there's little use for that now.

Tyr: *peers around behind Varro* Uxor?

Varro: No just me Tyr... I wanted to show you something

Tyr: *shuts the door and tosses the sheet aside, the automatic damper she'd learned to erect between herself and the minds of others was in place. After they'd left Varro and Uxor, she'd been nearly overwhelmed at leaving herself so open... so she reached out to touch Varro, trying to get some sense of what was going on... Uxor not at his side meant something was just not right*

Varro: *At touching him she again felt the concentrated version of dark pleasures. Murderers delighting in the kill. Rapists having their sport. Vial persecutors delighting in wrangling those against them. A host of things that could only be preceived as happy by those doing the acts alone. This was coupled with a certain....numbness. Varro felt as if he were in shock. He didn't look the part however. Perhaps it was his training in masking his emotions*

Tyr: *staggers back, breaking contact and shaking her hand as if burnt* what in the... Varro! What's going on!? *the darkness had slithered in, and not being deft as him, she couldn't act as conduit, instead absorbing the imagery... like a sponge, only she took on some of the foul glee without meaning to*

Varro: *didn't respond to her touch, and didn't offer any explaination other than reaching into his belongings for something, which he held out to her. It looked like a funerary mask, except that it looked as if it had been dragged up from the bottom of the sea, and it had a shimmering green patina that played upon it.*

Tyr: *though she'd never seen it, she could guess.* Mekari?

Varro: *to which, he nodded*

Tyr: *horror twisted the dark pleasures he broadcast from her mind in one sickening leap of comprehension* Brother, where is your wife? *her voice shakes, and her face is a contorted mask of fear*

Varro: At home still. *he said absently*

Tyr: *unconsciously flexing the hand that had touched him, she steps close once more, her fear no less, instead ratcheted a notch higher* why isn't she with you?

Varro: Because she had to stay at the house to make sure no one walked in while I came here to find you. I had to be certain you were safe.

Tyr: *she watches his face as she reaches out for the mask and his pack, intending to set them aside. His behaviour was wrong, all wrong..*

Varro: And I knew that you would not believe she was dead unless I could show you some proof. Unfortunately I know that on some basic level...you would perhaps think I would try and smooth you over with clever wording concerning her, or think I permitted her escape, or that she bargained with me. *he allowed her to take his things without objection. He said more quietly* I wanted you to know with certainty that it is over.

Tyr: *once the belongings were placed at their feet, she stepped into him, curling her arms around his ribs and closing any distance between them, even with the thoughts and images biting away at her mind, she embraced him as a brother, not saying anything at the moment*

Varro: *He returned the embrace not really consciously at first. After a moment she felt the imagry shift to something more akin to 'normal' and she felt him hold onto her a little more tightly, and bend his head to kiss the top of hers* I'm sorry.

Tyr: You apologize to me? *tilts her head back to look into his face, surprised* I'm the crux of the trouble... I can't begin to understand what you feel.. your mother... *shakes her head* why do you apologise to me brother?

Varro: Because I have been stupid enough to think she had any intention of leaving you alone. You were right... it was never going to end.

Tyr: Something else I don't understand...if Mekari is dead... what is Uxor guarding against?

Varro: There is a body in my living quarters. Should any 'well wisher' or unexpected guest have come by, or broken into our home, it would need explaination.

Tyr: I need to see her.

Varro: I thought you might say that. I will show you this only if you desire...but it is gory Tyr *and he nodded to the bag at their feet*

Tyr: *sad smile that holds no joy* Brotherman, *soft, chiding voice* I am no stranger to gore

Varro: As I said...I didn't think you would believe me without proof

Tyr: it's not for proof that I ask

Varro: *he released his hold of her and bent down to reach into the pack...
By blonde hair, Varro produced a disembodied head from the bag. Upon bringing it up to where Tyr could see it, she recognized the face. It was the one Mekari had shown her, without removing the mask however, of the fair otherworldy beauty with Varro-like features. Still upon this visage was a satisfactory smile*

Tyr: *her glance darts between Varro's face and the features frozen in death. Almost reverently, she cups the disembodied head's cheeks between calloused palms, lifting it up to a level with her own*

Varro: *the face felt as cold as Uxor's skin. The eyes were still open, Varro not having bothered to close them. Blue eyes gazed back. Varro continued to hold the hair and head as if it were surreal*

Tyr: *leaving the lids up, she kisses the slack mouth and murmurs under her breath. Varro can catch perhaps one word in three...* Seler.. goth.... *sigh* Atara... eska ai'tella.

Varro: What did you say to her? *seeming in a daze of it really for someone holding the head of their own mother. The head only smiled back at her in silence at Tyr's words.*

Tyr: *her behaviour doesn't make sense. She curls one hand around the truncated neck and cradles the head with her palm at the back while she very gently encourages him to let go with firm prising of his grip. One would think she were caring for a cherished loved one that has passed* Let go brotherman. Let me have her, now.

*Varro uncoiled his fingers to allow the head to slip into her grip, and away from his. He did so to the point that he still had his arm and hand out for a moment, before it sank down to his side*

*the head is placed in the center of a plain, woven rug, Tyr's chest and arm bearing the marks of congealed blood as she steps away from it* I said she could finally go home now.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XV "The means and The End" Chapter 4


---((Chat Transcript))---
Varro: *at those words, Varro looked at Tyr in surprise*

Tyr: *The stone that she previously hid from Mekari is fetched from the pocket of the light pack she had carried with her to and from the desert. A thin strip of leather is knotted around the siberys shard, until the egg-sized gem is suspended at the center, then tied at her throat. The blood-stained wrap is dropped at her heels as she steps up to the gruesome remains and bows in a deep expression of honor*

*Varro watched her. This was an aspect of his 'culture' as it were, being the son of a kalashtar, that he was completely new to. As he was still rather coming to terms with what had transpired, he could do little other than observe*

Tyr: *from an outside perspective, it might seem she was bent on seduction, but the actual tone of the lean muscled body was asexual - lacking in any eroticism as she flows into the dance, the same style as she had once used in Mekari's presence before. With the steps of her dance the path of light opens up to her, and she becomes oblivious to Varro's presence, wholly immersing herself in the dance of blades.. where she is the blade. When the glow surrrounds her and suffuses everything she sees and feels, she kneels before the head and removes the stone from her neck to touch it to Mekari's mouth, letting the dream stone accept her memories, and the echo of her personality*

Mekari: *Into this light came a flow of memory to bond with it. Of the joys of the home plane. Of an existance without mortal coil to be trapped in like a cage. So too came the echo of suffering and persecution on the material plane, and a homesickness at being an outsider. While the first were conscious, the loneliness and feelings of rejection seemed to come without purpose... and there was one final note that carried over, which was a love for Varro. The need to protect him because he was hers... the one thing she could look upon and call her own, and the great sense of contentment that in allowing him to kill her, she had made him happy*

Tyr: *her head bows and tears wet her lashes. The first rush of HOME had sparked recognition in her, and the second, that hollow absence of joy was also no stranger. The stone seems to pulse like a small heart in her hands before she ties it back at her throat and stands back up to turn, startling when she sees Varro, so completely had she been involved in the duty she felt the need to discharge* brotherman.. *sorts through the feelings she'd gotten by proxy* She truly did love you.. in her way.

Varro: I know *he said flatly* all too well now. I told her to die, and she did. *he said it reflectingly, staring down now at the head on the floor*
--- ((end transcript))---

"Mekari is a liar."

*These words carried over top of all his focus, as he stared at the defiant gaze of his mother. He approached her, hands going for the rapier still imbedded in her chest*

Mekari: Stay back... the closer you come, the worse it will be for her. Even now, she relives the memory of her torments. If you love your wife, stop. *Mekari was struggling to try and fuss with removing the blade from herself, but each of her attempts was thwarted by the aura of it, which drove her back in repulsion*

*Varro stood in front of Mekari, and put his hands upon the rapier*

Mekari: *she glared into Varro's eyes* If I die, so too does she. Kill me, and I will ensure she is dead.

Varro: No... you won't. *He thrust the rapier into her deeper, and ever so briefly, he saw what he needed to as the blade thrust into her more angled than before. Worry. Mekari's eyes shifted fleetingly to Uxor, and there was worry there. Varro did not have to turn round to know that Mekari had relented her bond with Uxor. His mother sank onto the blade some, sanguine humors flowing out of her mouth, and he wrapped an arm round her to keep her upright. He felt the familiar pressure of telepathy*

Mekari: <So arrogant... but lucky.>

Varro: <No. See, I realized something Mother... you are a liar. You won't kill her. You know that it would devistate me if Uxor died. It would crush me utterly for you to take my new bride from me. You would not bring me such suffering. If you were the one to send Juryrig on us, it would be the same reason she wasn't killed then. You knew it would wound me.>

Mekari: <For you. You asked why, and I will answer. I did it for you.>

Varro: <If you are truthful with me, I may ease your passing. I felt no glee in your triumph... so tell me the truth. If you did it for me, you would have been happy to have succeeded.>

Mekari: *Her hands touched upon Varro's face* <There could be no joy in having to be firm with my love for you. I needed you to love me. To show you that I would protect you. I needed you to trust me... both of you.>

*Varro marveled at her insanity now. At those words, many things fell into place, that before had escaped his search for answers. Why? She would never harm him... why had she sent that forged? Knowing the answer now took him aback with wonder... and vehement spite. She had set Juryrig upon them, so that she could be the one to save them. Staged the abduction, so that she could opportunistically come to their aide. How long had she watched them being tormented by the warforged? Perhaps the whole time. The reason he could not see her happiness in it was that she had none. She really thought what she was doing was best for him. There in was the threat - he knew now, beyond any shadow of doubt, that she would always work to control his life... the ends and the means to those ends. That was what mattered. As if she sensed the change in his rational, she reached her hand to her face, removing the mask. Varro could count perhaps on one hand the amount of times in his life that he had ever seen his mother's true face.*

Mekari: <I will have no more use for this. Keep it with you to keep you safe.> *she reflected on his features with reverence* <My clever son. How is it that you know?>

Varro: <In all your planning, you discounted that which is all my life now... my wife. Even in the face of your having saved us, she did not believe your words, no matter how plausible they sounded. My own knowledge of your doings, my inability to feel any mirth at things going as you planned... it blinded me from you. When the pieces came together, there can be no greater mallice I feel for you than now. To know that you are the reason...>

Mekari: <Would you have told her that you loved her on your own, do you suppose?>

Varro: <Perhaps not. My love is not worth what has been done to her.>

*Mekari's gaze strayed to Uxor, and there the look remained for some time.*

Varro: <Mother... do you love me?>

*Mekari's head panned back to Varro, still with her smile*

Mekari: <I thought you said you would make my passing easy. For you to need to ask me that is very painful my darling.>

Varro: <Even so... it's time for you to show me.> *He slid the blade back again further, and dipped the handle of it down further, changing the angle of the blade to a steep climb, which would bring upon her a fatal strike*

Varro: Die before her. Die before me. Return home, Mother.

Mekari: *smiled broadly at him* <Consider this a belated wedding gift then.>

*That smile... knowing and calculating... was enough to set his hand to motion. He thrust the blade into her, and she offered no resistance to it. Varro's mouth turned down to a deep frown at seeing that indeed, she was according him the privilage of killing her, just as he asked.*

Mekari: *She sank into his arms slowly* <You are both generous. No greater gift she offers me than the knowledge that her love for you is beyond mine. No greater gift you offer me than home my darling.>

*Varro frowned holding the limp body. She was more than a liar. Mekari was mad. The reach of her madness knew no bounds. The ends justified the means. Torture for trust. Death for love.*

---((chat transcript continued))---
Varro: *he looked at the floor, reflecting on these things* She let me kill her... because it was what I wanted. In the past, I may have loathed her, but never before did I want her to die. Not until then. And she obliged.

Tyr: *though she hadn't changed her mind about Mekari's motives, she still wondered... maybe she'd been wrong* I'm sorry brotherman.

Varro: Don't be. There is no sorry for either of you. You could not helping being who you are, she could not help being what she was, and that both of you loved me. Ultimately I had to pick... and I chose my wife. If it's any help Tyr, knowing what I knew of her, her intent towards you was nothing more than 'business.' But towards Uxor, it was different. even so... she knew... that if Uxor died, it would crush me... and she couldn't do it *he was more or less talking for the sake of regaining his mental balance it seemed to her*

Tyr: *ducks her head and wipes the moisture from her eyes, listening to him.* she had her choices to make, just like you did. *voice husky and slightly roughened* Unlike her, you could not take those choices from her anymore than you could change her basic nature.

Varro: I... realized that I could kill her. That she was not going to fight it, because of who I was. That no one else would she have stayed for the blow from. Perhaps no one else could have killed her... and it hurt to know it.

Tyr: of course it did... *she picked up the discarded sheet and wrapped it tight across her bust, like a modified toga* You're not a monster. She is... was your mother, no matter what else she may have been or done.

Varro: Am I not? I never once tried to stop her Tyr. Why? Because before now, it didn't affect me. I wonder how many Tyr's before you she's tormented and killed like a cat with a field mouse. As long as I had what I wanted, and I was content, I didn't care.

Tyr: Why should you? It sounds callouse... but you're not responsible for your mother's actions brothermine. How could you have known?

Varro: I did know. I just didn't care. What did I care who she hunted... at the time anyway.

Tyr: did you lead her to her victims?

*He didn't answer her at first*
Varro: No...and yes.

Tyr: *shakes her head and steps in again, close enough to touch, offering the embrace but not taking that last step* I don't care.. *her hands link at the small of her back* it's what you did this time... you stopped her.

*He sighed a little, roaming over his thoughts.* It feels different then I thought it would, at the time I was doing it. I thought I'd feel ... well as Juryrig says.... justice.

Tyr: such a complicated situation... so many strands woven together.. It's actually not realistic for you to have expected it to be that simple.

Varro: Suppose I'm finding that out. It's just...she was the reason. If Endaria died for a complication, it would have more than likely been her. She is the reason I was tortured...that Uxor was tortured...that that stupid warforged was set to acting as he was.... and beyond. And now here I am feeling...guilty. I dont know if that's the right word but it's the only thing I can think of.

Tyr: *nods, then looks down as a small green glimmer catches her eye* what will you do with that?

Varro: Keep it. To keep me safe, as she said.

Tyr: She lied about alot of thing, brotherman, but there's one truth I know of a certainty. She hated it here... and she got her wish... to go home. You gave that to her

Varro: *He nodded* Thanks. I've been trying to see the 'good' of her per say. The things that she did I benefited from - dimented as they may have been. I dont think Uxor would ever have gotten up the gaul to try and be with me if the threat of Mekari had not drove her forward *he gnarled his nose in either amusement, or reflection on irony*

Tyr: you can only walk your own path, brotherman. Not your mother's... and not your wife's. *mention of uxor prompts her to say* you should go back to her.. let me get dressed and WE'll go back together... I'll take care of the remains.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XV "The means and The End" Chapter 5

---((chat transcript))---
Tyr: *she disappears in the direction of her bedchambers and reappears a short time later in deep, loamy brown set of thin linen pants and shirt. Mekari's mask goes into Varro's pack, and the head is wrapped in the thin wrap that Tyr wore when Varro arrived, and tucked uner her arm* I'm ready.

*Varro picked up the pack and held an arm out to her, apparently intending to take them there in his way*

Tyr: *she takes his hand in hers, fitting palm to palm and turning in to the curve of his arm, so that her back is to his front and their clasped hands are at their sides, their burdens held on the same side*

Varro: *She felt a pause. Normally this transit would have happened rather abruptly from him, but there was a seeming moment of stillness and quiet...long enough that might have prompted comment to it. But in just such a time that she might have opened her mouth to speak, she felt the familiar sensation of transport, and around her came the scene of the upstairs room she and Ruse had left from. In this room upon the floor was the body. The spider helm laying upon the ground, the glamorweave cloak spread like wings across the remains. Uxor sat beside the body upon the floor, apparently in meditation*

Tyr: *after one squeeze to Varro's hand, she releases the hold and steps away from him to kneel beside Mekari's body, waiting patiently for Uxor to surface from her mediations*

Uxor: *As she came to, Uxor's eyes immediately search out Varro, despite the fact that Tyr and the body were the closest thing to her. Content in having made eye contact with him, she looked to Tyr with somber eyes, but a smile, and the combitation suggested that while she was displeased of how all of this had happend, seeing Tyr safe was a relief*

Tyr: Sister.

*Uxor nodded her head deeply to that*

*Varro walked over, and sat down beside Uxor absently. Uxor took his hand and held it, not seeming to press either of them as to what they were doing back here.*

Tyr: I'm here to ease the burden that I have a part in causing. I'll be taking the body.. Remove anything you wish to keep.

*Uxor reached out for the cloak, pulling it away from the decapataded body, which had been positioned respectfully upon the floor on its back, with arms folded upon the midrift*

Varro: She says she already gathered what we would of her. *it was apparent he and Uxor were mind speaking, as Uxor had renewed her vow of silence, and was not scribing upon anything for Varro to have known such*

Tyr: *from a roll at the back of her belt, she takes the thin sheet she'd used for a toga before and spreads it out, covering the body rolling the corpse up in the shroud. the head is place so that it is set at the shoulders, and held in place by that corner of the sheet being tucked and folded around it. Once the bundle is a tight coccoon, she hefts the curiously light package over her shoulder*

*Uxor sat with Varro, and the two watched her prepair this funerary wrapping. Both of Uxor's hands held Varro's right hand, and their wedding rings upon their index fingers seemed to gleam slightly as she softly stroked the top of his hand*

Tyr: Do you have any preferences I need to keep in mind?

Varro: None. If there are, you would know more so than I.

Tyr: *with the body hoisted up, she nods to her 'family'* I'll take care of this, don't worry about it.

*Uxor nodded gratefully. Varro nodded out of habit, but did offer a few words* Varro: Thank you Sister

*Tyr exits the Velox home with the mummy-wrapped corpse, still in the dark of night, and heads towards the open desert... and a past teacher that had unlocked for her the method of staying sane- by killing*
---((end transcript))---

[Lessah]

"The Prettiest Maidens Sing The Saddest Songs"




Morah, A Bard’s Tale
Chapter 8: Genocide
The Phoenix Tavern had no windows, and thus deprived its patrons of gauging the time of day. “There’s always time for one more drink,” was the tavern’s motto.

Telano was in the more secluded upper tier of the tavern, watching mock sparring of two drunken fighters down below. He sat on a bench with each arm casually over the shoulders of the same pretty twins who had entertained Poppi so many days before. He relished the female attention, and allowed the girls to play with his hair and stroke his neck with their delicate fingers.

The little halfling heard someone clearing his throat behind him. He turned around and almost got a response out. “Cous…,” the man’s greeting was stopped by a fist slamming into his face. The blow sent the bench rocking forward and the twins careening onto the floor. The girls scampered away, shooed out and down the stairs by Saydee.

Saldez barely gave his cousin time to recover. He grabbed the man by the back of the neck, and slammed his head and torso down on the long table. Pinning him down, Saldez leaned very close to him and breathed harsh words in his ear. “What did I tell you cousin? Observe only! Gather information! By attacking Corvile you have forced our hand before we know who all the members of the Dassk are in Stormreach! You have very nearly ruined everything!”

The scared halfling tried desperately to defend himself, “I was only trying to trying to strike a blow for the Boromars cousin.” Saldez released him. Telano rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at his livid cousin. “So happens now?”


***********

The forest was quiet in the early evening, the sun was peeking through the trees and highlighting the brilliant green shades of the leaves and moss that grew on the trees and blanketed the forest. It was a perfectly tranquil place where insects and animals and nature could live an undisturbed symbiotic relationship.

Deep in the forest, a camp was nestled in between two very large cashes of dreamlilies. The camp would have otherwise appeared unremarkable. A lazy ogre, Kozarg Heartcrusher sat with his back to giant stewpot and drifted in and out of sleep. A sudden gust of wind and light tore through the forest’s upper canopy. The big ogre responded by drawing its spear and looking all around with a snarl. He waddled over to the edge of the forest clearing to investigate further.

The creature swore it heard a splash and walked over to look at the very large stewpot it was supposed to be tending. The ogre poked at the limbs of a human and halfling until they sank back into the pot. The ogre smelled the brew and tasted a bit of it. Satisfied, it went back to its dull post.

Saldez watched from just beneath the upper forest canopy with a satisfied smirk. He had taken great pains to harvest just enough of the hallucinogenic flowers to pumice into paste that would simmer in the ogres’ meal and put them just enough off their guard.

“Let them eat it,” he whispered to himself softly. “Let them eat it and then let them die.” He flew off, staying just under the forest canopy of the trees, and made a wide arc around the entire field so he could report the exact locations of the guards to his sister and cousin.



***********

Morah could not sleep back at the hall in the infirmary. She had pestered Hannible until he consented to allow the girl to go downstairs to the main hall and sit with Sir Siward and Andark.

She was terribly worried, and wanted desperately to get her mind away from the horrid thoughts of what might happen to Saldez. She held her lute nervously in her lap and smiled at Siward. He was tall and very handsome without realizing it. He stood up to be everything a knight should be: honorable, forthright, loyal, and strong.

He looked at her with his light green eyes, and pointed to her lute, “will you play?” He asked smiling a bit.

She smiled in return, “If it pleases you.”

“It would please me if you would also sing lady.” The knight replied.

Morah looked down at her instrument and picked it up with delicate fingers. She began playing and singing words that she knew she could never express in anything but her music.


“Along Stormreach that’s by the sea
There grow dangerous fields of flowers.
That often sing sad songs of love,
And drink the gentle showers.
~
I used to be, those lilies wild,
For I never questioned why,
I danced with the gentle breeze so mild,
And laughed beneath the sky
~
Wild, wild, wild, wild
Wild the lilies should be
for Gone, gone, gone, gone
Gone is my love from me."


*****************


Back and forth the ogre walked on his part of the line of territory that was staked out for the big creature to patrol. A soft breeze blew through the matted tuffs of hair that surrounded his muscular face.

Wurerth Hearteater could smell the pollen emanating from the field of harmless-looking blossoms. The soft scent of the flowers mingled with the stench of the ogre’s own skin. He grunted once. He was too close to the field. Shaking his head fast back and forth to try and stave off the calming effects of the dreamlily. He would have to patrol farther away from the field until the wind shifted.

He backed away into a wider arc, close to a thick grove of tress at the edge of the forest clearing. Wurerth Hearteater heard the sharp snap of a twig somewhere behind him. He growled again and barred his sharp teeth. Darting his eyes around, he saw nothing. He swore several curses in his native tongue before he decided to keep moving.

A terrible pain halted his progress. The ogre looked down and saw fresh blood spouting from behind his ankle. The tendon had been neatly cut through. The leg would no longer hold the big brute’s weight and he stumbled forward off balance. A whistle came from just above Wurerth Hearteater’s head. Rolling over onto his back and looking up into a tree, the last thing he saw was a barrage of bolts planting themselves into his face and chest. The big ogre breathed his last.

Saydee Boromar climbed down from her perch in the tree, and reloaded her crossbow. Telano joined her after cleaning his blade off on the dead beast’s fur.

“Good work,” she remarked to him. She smacked the back of her hand on his chest. “Come on then, we got six more.”

The halfling fixed her with a bemused expression. “There are more than six ogres here Saydee.” Telano remarked.

She looked at him and grinned wryly, “oh don’t ye be worrying bout’ dat lot.”


*********************



Deep within the forest they sleep
Protected by the glade
They make each and every sunset sweet
And perfume every shade
~
They’ll make you laugh at passers-by
And gaze to the stars above,
They’ll make you cheat and steal and lie,
And forget your every love.
~
Wild, wild, wild, wild
Wild the lilies should be
for Gone, gone, gone, gone
Gone is my love from me..


*******************


Kozarg Heartcrusher continued handing out the evening meal to his ogre brethren. Crude clay pots held the stew which the ogres drank right from the bowel. There was no need for spoons, not according to Morgh the Hazardous. Ogres did not deserve such a luxury. Kozarg thought bitterly of how he would have to serve the cursed hobgoblin leader his meal soon. Real food, the goblin had demanded. Not chopped up dead humaniods. Kozarg Heartcrusher snorted once. **** hobgoblins were too civilized for his liking. Morgh was even rumored to bathe.

The ogre thought about this as he ate his own meal. He looked down into the bowel and noticed all pretty colors of the soup. He looked over to the ogre closest to him. A surely old ogre with only one eye called Bonegrinder looked back at him. The one-eyed ogre smiled, very strange for an ogre, revealing crooked and broken yellow teeth with bits of meat stuck in between. Bonegrider’s good eye was glazed over.

The picture struck Kozarg oddly, and the ogre chuckled. He cocked his head sideways for a moment. He had never heard his own laugh before. He did it again to test the sound of it. He opened his wide mouth to let the sound escape. The one eyed ogre Bonegrinder laughed with him. For some inexplicable reason, both of the hairy beasts found this amusing and laughed even harder at each other.

The scene, oddly enough, attracted no attention. The other ogres were gainfully employed in their own collective consciousness. So much so, that they hardly noticed the muffled screams of their brethren as Saldez waded through them easily, slitting their throats one at a time.



*************


They grow in clumps all soft and white
Of the prettiest pinkish hues
They tame the living and make the dead
Of whatever soul they choose.
~
And if I had the means my friends
I’d rip those flowers apart
But not their beauty nor their stems
Can replace my missing heart.
~
Wild, wild, wild, wild
Wild the lilies should be
for Gone, gone, gone, gone
Gone is my love from me.


***********


Half a dozen hobgoblin warriors piled out of a tent set up in the camp’s makeshift headquarters. A strange sound they had not heard before drew them out. It was laughter. Deep guttural laughter mingled with high-pitched yipping echoed all around the hobgoblins.

Morgh the Hazardous, the heavily armored hobgoblin chieftain stepped out of the tent, followed by four of his hobgoblin lieutenants. “There had better be a good explanation for this!” He grumbled to his warriors in their common tongue. He swore to himself that someone would die for this insubordination.

In broken common he growled at his troops. “Who dies first?” Looking down at his hair-covered feet, Morgh realized that at least one of his lazy ogres was already dead. He was standing in a pool of ogre blood.

“You do.” A voice answered from above him. Crossbow bolts whizzed through the air passed the hobgoblin chief’s head and found marks in the torsos of two of his lieutenants. The hobgoblins fell over dead as if struck by a bolt of lightening. Saldez smiled to himself from the back of his glidewing and thought that he would be paying the craftsman who gave him the goblin slayer bolts a bit extra on his next visit.

He loaded the bow again and fired. Another hobgoblin fell to the ground. Only two remained, and both warriors were smart enough to seek cover. Saldez slid off the back of his glidewing and onto the slanted canvas roof of the hobgoblin’s tent.

A howl of excitement rang through the woods then, and an ogre came racing up into the camp. In his giant hand he held a halfling male by the ankles suspended upside down. Saldez became immediately concerned for Telano and looked to see if the ogre had Saydee in his grasp as well. He did not.

“Intruders!” The ogre yelled in common. Saldez could hear his cousin screaming. “Halfling make soup taste better!” The ogre snorted as he tossed Telano into the simmering pot. The ogre looked around then and noticed his dead brothers. It was enough of a distraction for Telano to crawl out of the pot and scamper along the ground.

The last remaining hobgoblin lieutenant ran out to strike a killing blow on the scorched halfling. Saldez was faster, however. Another goblin-slaying bolt flew out and landed in the hobgoblin’s chest. The beast fell over like a tree on top of Telano. Neither man moved. The chief, Morgh, came out of hiding to yell at the ogre. “Fall back you idiot! We’re under attack!”

The words were in vain, however. The ogre felt a powerful benevolent force pushing him. As if the gods themselves were commanding him to lye on the ground and be still. Saydee walked up and hovered over its head for a moment. “Now why’d ye have te go an’ do dat to me kin?” She began beating the ogre on the head with her mace.

Saldez leveled his crossbow squarely at the hobgoblin chief. “Click,” nothing happened. He looked down the see that he was completely out of the slayer bolts. The athletic little halfling, drew out his acid-dipped axe, and his shortsword and jumped to the ground to challenge the chieftain head on.

“Halflings!” Morgh snarled swinging his falcion. “Boromar! You die now filthy halfling!” He charged in with measured ease, and set his sights on Saldez.

Saldez tumbled forward into a ball and made himself almost go completely underneath the hobgoblin’s wide fighting stance. It made it exceedingly hard for Morgh to hit the little halfling with his larger and more awkward sword. Saldez, in contrast, had smaller and shorter weapons and was now in direct contact with an extremely vulnerable area of the chief.

He brought his handaxe up hard into the hobgoblin’s groin, and attempted to do the same with his shortsword. Morgh had already flinched and fell back from the first strike of the axe however. Saldez made a mental note that the chief was fast on his feet as well as exceedingly strong.

“Why did you do it?” Saldez asked his opponent as he tumbled around to get into a better attack position. “Why did you take our field, when you could have easily started your own?”

Morgh snarled at Saldez, “I do not answer to filthy little halfling scum!”

“Perhaps ye be answering to dis!” Saydee remarked loudly as she threw a bowel full of overly hot soup into Morgh’s face. Effectively slowing the big brute and hampering his vision.

In a blind rage the hobgoblin chief retaliated. He swung his weapon wide and the blade passed harmlessly over Saydee’s head. She backed out of the way and allowed Saldez to move in. He jumped and spun around in a circle, using the momentum and his own body weight to sink his shortsword deep into the chief’s underbelly. The blade stuck there.

Still Morgh continued to advance on Saldez. Swiping at the halfling with his falcion. Saldez easily dodged the swings and with a powerful jump, catapulted himself up and over the top of the hobgoblin’s head. His acid-dipped axe found its mark in the side of the chief’s neck. Fresh blood spurted out fast, covered the ground, and mixed with the short thick hairs that covered Morgh’s body. He snarled up his flat face once, and fell forward. He was dead.

Saydee immediately ran to the side of her cousin, Telano. With great effort she pushed the dead ogre off of him. He was badly scorched from the boiling stew. His face was swelling fast and he would die soon if she didn’t do anything. The girl had been formally trained as a cleric and began chanting a prayer over him in an attempt to heal the man. Nothing happened. The fickle goddess Olladra had denied her healing. Saydee gathered her resolve and tried again. Nothing. Blinking out her tears, she frantically searched her backpack for a healing potion to give to Telano. She could hear him wheezing his breath in and out.

“Cousin,” Telano whispered to Saldez as the man leaned down over him.

“Hang on Telano,” Saldez said hopefully glancing over to his sister. “You’re going to be alright.”

“No cousin,” Telano whispered. “You can’t save my life, like I saved yours once.” He remarked referring to the incident on the lake of ice when Saldez had been helpless under a sheet of the thick stuff. Telano had managed to save him. Telano closed his eyes slowly and his breathing all but disappeared.

“Saydee!” Saldez looked at his sister, who responded with a palms up gesture. Her search had proven fruitless and her healing prayers had been exhausted. Saldez’s eyes glazed over with tears, and he ran into the hobgoblin’s tent to look for anything that might be useful. He thought back to his boyhood in the Sharn when he had been trapped under the ice. He went for what seemed like an eternity without air, before his cousin broke through the ice and fished him out of the water. In a crate he found one tiny potion of health. He ran back out to Telano and fell to his knees by the man.

Saldez leaned down and whispered to him as he poured the potion into his mouth. “Not today cousin,” he remarked. “My debt to you has not yet been paid.”

The three of them flew away in silence on the back of the glidewing. Saydee looked at her brother, “ye done good Sallie.”

He looked away from her and shook his head, “the job’s not over.” He remarked with disdain. “I’ve one more debt to pay.”

[Merlask]

Updated Story Index
(Updated 8-11-07)

Use this Index to move quickly between bodies of work by authors contained in the Thelanis Anthology Thread (http://forums.ddo.com/showthread.php?t=81737). Remember that if you have submissions for the thread where these stories are contained, the following rules still apply to that thread, as per Robi3.0's original rules write-up...
"To avoid confusing and thread clutter:


All Rules established by the DDO code of conduct still apply there. (I honestly think that should go with out saying but I said it anyhow, just in case)
All post must contain a story. Post making comments about a previously posted story good or bad are prohibited. ( If you wish to make comments about a story you are more than welcomed to start another thread or PM them to the author of the story)
You can not post a story that you have not penned without the permission of the original author. Credit must also be given to the original author. (Again this should go without saying.)
All post must fallow this format. The title line of the post must include the name of your series COMMA the name of your current story arc COMMA The chapter number of your current story arc. (Example.... Stories of the Fellowship Guild, Dissention Amongst the Ranks, Chapter 1) *Please note that story arcs finished within one post do not require a chapter number
Have fun and be creative."


The Listing Key:
Author: What roleplayer wrote the stories of that particular series
Title: The name of their series.

SIRies Awards: A sort of Roleplaying Academy Awards, named after +Sir Lawrence, to highlight the accomplishments of the community roleplayers who contribute to the anthology (http://forums.ddo.com/showthread.php?t=81737). Fellow players were asked to nominate stories for different catagories, such as best fight scene or best love story, and so forth. To learn more about the SIRies, see this post: The SIRies (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1292349&postcount=130)


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
All series are listed by the order in which they made their first appearence in the anthology thread. Thus, authors who started submitting their works later in time appear towards the bottom of the index.

Author: Robi3.0
Title: The Project Chronicles of a Mercenary Company
2007 SIRies Awards For: Best Fight/Battle Scene, Best Quote(s)
New Work Same Old Problems,Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=863589&postcount=2)
New Work Same Old Problems, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=874784&postcount=4)
New Work Same Old Problems, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=910640&postcount=8)
New Work Same Old Problems,Chapter 4
(http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=954554&postcount=12)New Work Same Old Problems, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=977327&postcount=19)
The Way to Tangleroot, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1172854&postcount=59)
The Way to Tangleroot, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1177880&postcount=63)
The Way to Tangleroot, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1180259&postcount=65)
The Way to Tangleroot, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1183930&postcount=66)

Author: Sigtrent
Title: X'en Umbra Stories
2007 SIRies Awards For: Best Quote(s), Honorable Mention
Kurzun, Chapter 1
(http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=863654&postcount=3)

Author: Merlask
Title: The Ambassadors
2007 SIRies Awards For: Series of the Year, Favorite Character (male), Favorite Character (female), Best Fight/Battle scene, Best Love story, Best Bad Guy, Best Supporting Character (female), Achievement in Character Development, Best Quote(s), Best Character Chemistry
Volumn I The Masked Ball
(http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=874855&postcount=5)Volumn II A Voice For Thought
(http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=874860&postcount=6)Volumn III, By Any Other Name, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=884492&postcount=7)
Volumn III, By Any Other Name, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=920019&postcount=10)
Volumn III, By Any Other Name, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=925554&postcount=11)
Volumn III, By Any Other Name, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974539&postcount=13)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974543&postcount=14)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974544&postcount=15)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974552&postcount=16)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974553&postcount=17)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=974562&postcount=18)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=979234&postcount=20)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 7 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1016309&postcount=21)
Volumn IV, Changes of Cloths, Chapter 8 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1016485&postcount=22)
Volumn V, Perspective (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1064003&postcount=24)
Volumn VI Silence (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1086360&postcount=28)
Volumn VII, Ice and Fire, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1093621&postcount=29)
Volumn VII, Ice and Fire, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1098062&postcount=31)
Volumn VIII, The Avatar and the Augur, Chapter 1 (submission in "The Name Project") (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146279&postcount=50)
Volumn VIII, The Avatar and the Augur, Chapter 2(submission in "The Name Project") (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146283&postcount=51)
Volumn VIII, The Avatar and the Augur, Chapter 3 (submission in "The Name Project") (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146284&postcount=52)
Volumn VIII, The Avatar and the Augur, Chapter 4 (submission in "The Name Project") (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146286&postcount=53)
Volumn IX, Transitions, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204375&postcount=71)
Volumn IX, Transitions, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204376&postcount=72)
Volumn IX, Transitions, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204378&postcount=73)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204385&postcount=74)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204467&postcount=75)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204511&postcount=76)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1213911&postcount=84)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246111&postcount=91)
Volumn X, Testing the Waters, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246149&postcount=92)
Volumn XI, The means and the end, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246154&postcount=93)
Volumn XI, The means and the end, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246155&postcount=94)
Volumn XI, The means and the end, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246169&postcount=95)
Volumn XI, The means and the end, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246171&postcount=96)
Volumn XI, The means and the end, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1246179&postcount=97)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282444&postcount=101)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282448&postcount=102)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282455&postcount=104)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282457&postcount=103)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282464&postcount=105)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282470&postcount=106)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 7 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282473&postcount=107)
Volumn XII, A New Proposition, Chapter 8 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282476&postcount=108)
Volumn XIII, The Maiden, The Minstrel, & The Marriage, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282762&postcount=109)
Volumn XIII, The Maiden, The Minstrel, & The Marriage, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282781&postcount=111)
Volumn XIII, The Maiden, The Minstrel, & The Marriage, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282782&postcount=110)
Volumn XIV, Spiders & Flies, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284551&postcount=114)
Volumn XIV, Spiders & Flies, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284557&postcount=115)
Volumn XIV, Spiders & Flies, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284559&postcount=116)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284603&postcount=123)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1285054&postcount=124)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1285129&postcount=125)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1286823&postcount=126)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1286882&postcount=127)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1304499&postcount=134)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 7 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1304504&postcount=135)
Volumn XV, The means and The End, Chapter 8 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1304506&postcount=136)
Epilogue (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1304529&postcount=137)


Author: Multi-author series
Title: The Name Project
2007 SIRies Awards For: Best Supporting Character, Best Quote(s), Honorable Mention
Forward (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146271&postcount=44)
Volumn I, The Watcher(by Points) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146272&postcount=45)
Volumn II, Dances With Kobolds (by Jinna) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146273&postcount=46)
Volumn III, Justhere Tawatch and the Titan Wand (by Jaggie) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146274&postcount=47)
Volumn IV, Rainbow (by Deriaz) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146275&postcount=48)
Volumn V, Rainbow Too (by Zoltando) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146278&postcount=49)
Volumn VI, The Avatar and the Augur Chapter 1 (by Merlask) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146279&postcount=50)
Volumn VI, The Avatar and the Augur Chapter 2 (by Merlask) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146283&postcount=51)
Volumn VI, The Avatar and the Augur Chapter 3 (by Merlask) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146284&postcount=52)
Volumn VI, The Avatar and the Augur Chapter 4 (by Merlask) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1146286&postcount=53)

Author: Captain Watcher
Title: Clan Scorpion Imperial
2007 SIRies Awards For: Best Fight/Battle scenes, Best Bad Guy, Best Supporting Character (male), Best Supporting Character (female), Best Monologue
The Lavenders, Timeline of Sho Drizzin the Lavender (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=910950&postcount=9)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112872&postcount=32)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112877&postcount=33)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112879&postcount=34)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112884&postcount=35)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112889&postcount=36)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112895&postcount=37)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 7 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112902&postcount=38)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 8 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112907&postcount=39)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 9 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112912&postcount=40)
Sho's Fate, Chapter 10 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1112915&postcount=41)

Author: Trekna Qu'dane
Title: Storms of Xen'drik
2007 SIRies Awards For: Favorite Character (male), Best Quote(s), Honorable Mention
Rain, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1062201&postcount=23)
Rain, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1064307&postcount=25)
Rain, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1187373&postcount=69)

Author: Deriaz
Title: The Brothers Forged
2007 SIRies Awards For: Series of the Year, Favorite Character (male), Best Supporting Character (male), Best Bad Guy, Achievement In Character Development, Best Quote(s), Best Character Chemistry, Best Use of Setting
Encounters, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1071209&postcount=26)
Encounters, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1078919&postcount=27)
Identity Theft, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1093903&postcount=30)
Identity Theft, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1129199&postcount=42)
Identity Theft, part 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1141283&postcount=43)
Questionable Intent, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1169034&postcount=58)
Questionable Intent, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1174996&postcount=60)
Questionable Intent, part 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1185517&postcount=68)
Inside the Mind of a Killer, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1204277&postcount=70)
Inside the Mind of a Killer, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1207435&postcount=78)
Inside the Mind of a Killer, part 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1210370&postcount=80)
Inside the Mind of a Killer, part 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1210387&postcount=81)
Jealousy, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1240893&postcount=87)
Jealousy, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1240895&postcount=88)
Jealousy, part 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1240897&postcount=89)
Jealousy, part 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1240903&postcount=90)
Faceless Visitor (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1268406&postcount=99)
The Final Attempt, part 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284267&postcount=112)
The Final Attempt, part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284272&postcount=113)
Changes (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1296048&postcount=133)

Author: Lessah
2007 SIRies Awards For: Favorite Character (female), Achievement In Character Development, Best Use of Setting
Title: The Halfling War Council In Stormcreach
Prologue/The Assassin’s Note (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1163349&postcount=54)
The Order’s Hall (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1163781&postcount=55)
Soulgate (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1165156&postcount=56)
The Poison (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1168759&postcount=57)
Spider’s Sac (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1175283&postcount=61)
Lerincho Yarbarrow (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1176154&postcount=62)
Title: A Bard's Tale
The Halfling's Conundrum, Prologue & Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1282293&postcount=100)
Corvile, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284581&postcount=117)
The Making of a War, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284587&postcount=118)
Vengence, Chapter 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284590&postcount=119)
The Infirmary, Chapter 5 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284592&postcount=120)
The Return of Saldez Boromar, Chapter 6 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284593&postcount=121)
Lovely, Chapter 7 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1284594&postcount=122)
Genocide, Chapter 8 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1289951&postcount=128)

Author: Musicman
Title: The Merry Pranksters
2007 SIRies Awards For: Best Supporting Character (female), Honorable Mention
The Saga of Killbot, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1184529&postcount=67)
The Saga of Killbot, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1210595&postcount=82)
The Saga of Killbot, Chapter 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1210609&postcount=83)

Author: Kashka Coolwater
Title: The War of Shadows
2007 SIRies Awards For: Honorable Mention
To Protect and Thwart, Chapter 1 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1205832&postcount=77)
To Protect and Thwart, Chapter 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1210349&postcount=79)

Author: Lenric
Title: The Golden Warpriest
Prologue: The Dream (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1262882&postcount=98)
Chapter 1 (part 1) (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=1293434&postcount=132)

[Merlask]

The Thelanis Academy Awards
AKA The SIRies
Guide to the Awards

The following awards are voted on for the SIRies award show... an activity to spotlight the achievements of the Roleplaying community. Use the below definitions to understand what each award means:

Series of the year:
The overall body of work players think stand out above the rest.

Favorite Character (male):
Favorite main character from any of the stories in the anthology. Think of this like the lead actor of the stories.

Favorite Character (female):
Favorite main female character from any of the stories in the anthology. Think of this like the lead actress of the stories.

Best fight/Battle:
Favorite scene from any of the series that involves physical confrontation between characters or entities. Can be as large scale as a war, or as small as a barfight.

Best love story:
Favorite part related to relationships and the characters. Can even be as simple as 'best kiss' for this one.

Best bad guy:
What villain stands out from the stories. Can be male or female. Can also be characters with questionable alliances - but 'conflict' is what is important here.

Best supporting character (male):
Favorite non-main character that is male. Sometimes the supporting character can even be a villain. On the whole, the story is not considered to be specifically about them, and they are 2nd fiddle to another main character.

Best supporting character (female):
Favorite non-main character that is female. Sometimes the supporting character can even be a villain. On the whole, the story is not considered to be specifically about them, and they are 2nd fiddle to another main character.

Achievement in Character development:
This is to recognize the author who has done the most in terms of giving 'life' to the characters of their story, and helping you connect with those characters... helping you feel like their characters could exist.

Most notable quote(s):
Something a character said that stands out.

Best character chemistry/interaction:
Think of this like the best cast... the series that has characters that play off of one another well in the story in terms of dialogue and interacting in the scenes on the whole.

Best use of setting:
Spotlight the series that seems to really go the extra mile to encorporate aspects of the Eberron, or DDO specific, setting. This can be anything from how well they bring aspects of Eberron into the story, to how they explain some of the conventions we deal with playing an mmo.

Best monologue:
Favorite section of speech done by a character. Sometimes these can be an actual speech given before a group of people, or maybe it's just a moment when a character talks at length about something. Basically it is a point at which a character talks for a while without interruption.

Honorable mention:
Just anything at all that doesn't fit one of the above catagories, that deserves making mention of. Can be personal word to a certain author, or maybe runners up for one of the other catagories.

[Merlask]

The Awards for the 2007 SIRies go to...

Series of the year:

The Ambassadors, Merlask
The Brothers Forged, Deriaz



Favorite Character (male):


Gauche, Rain, Trekna Qu'dane
Varro, The Ambassadors, Merlask
Deriaz, Brothers Forged, Deriaz



Favorite Character (female):


Uxor, The Ambassadors, Merlask
Lessah, Halfling War Council, Lessah


Best fight/Battle:

Sho's Fate, The one between Aemilius and Sho/Deriaz, Captain Watcher
Clan Scorpion Imperial: Chapter 9, Sho Deriaz and Ragyr fight Aemilius and Axalise in the final direct battle, Captian Watcher
New work same old problems, Robi3.0
The Ambassadors, "Change of Cloths" volumn, Uxor vs Mekari at the Inn, Merlask


Best love story:

Uxor and Varro, The Ambassadors, Merlask


Best bad guy:

Aemilius, Sho's Fate, Captain Watcher
Mekari, The Ambassadors, Merlask
Ragyr, Brothers Forged, Deriaz


Best supporting character (male):

+Sir's many names, The Name Project, Merlask & Everyone who took part.
Deriaz, Clan Scorpion Imperial, Captain Watcher
Aemilius, Sho's Fate, Captain Watcher
Ragyr, The Brothers Forged, Deriaz


Best supporting character (female):

Axalise, Sho's Fate, Captain Watcher
Jaggie, The Merry Pranksters, The Saga of Killbot, Music Man
Mekari, The Ambassadors, Merlask


Achievement in Character development:

Merlask
Deriaz
Lessah


Best quote(s):

Drenor, "BLASTED WARFORGED!”, Trekna Qu'dane
Jinna, “Can I poke her face, Points?”, Jinna (The Name Project)
Grimlore, “You know what I find strange. You seem to have no problem with cold blooded killing when we’re getting paid.”, Robi3.0
Jaggie, “You’re the only. . . Human Forged I know.”, Deriaz
Septarian, 'It's people like YOU that ruin my chance at getting served in places like this!', The Ambassadors, Merlask
Ulf, "Problem be map broke.", Robi3.0
Azrahorus, "A prince should be more prideful, even if he stands little chance of taking a throne.”, Sigtrent


Best character chemistry/interaction:

The Ambassadors, Merlask
The Brothers Forged, Deriaz


Best use of setting:

The Halfling War Council In Stormreach, Lessah
The Brothers Forged, Deriaz


Best monologue:

The actual timeline of Sho, The Lavenders, Timeline of Sho Drizzin the Lavender, Captain Watcher


Honorable mention:

"It came close for a few catagories, but I like The Saga of Killbot, by Music Man. I was tempted to put it in as my nomination for a few categories. Still a fun story to read, though." - Deriaz
"When it comes to The Name Project, the manner that all the writers can tell the story of the same event, in such a DRASTICALLY different way, is fascinating. Also I have to give huge props to Kashka for her method of really getting the setting involved with her stories, and I hope to see more of it in the actual anthology. It was a very interesting way to portray Varro's birthday party and getting the Shield of Cyre...instead of just an in game item, she made it a very neat part of her story" - Merlask
"I thought the opening of "Storms of Xen'drik" provided a very interesting portrait of Gauche. Also, X'en Umbra Stories included some really lovely prose. I'd love to see more of where that was going." - Aph

[lenric]

“I just don’t know what to do Lenric,” Brunos solemly stated whilst walking in a deep valley between two of the largest mountains in the range leading a small group of initiates towards an ancient battleground. Lenric, a human, and standing well over 6 foot tall was taking long strides forcing Brunos and the rest of the dwarves to keep a quick pace whilst walking along the seemingly well traveled trail.
“Can you slow down Master Lenric,” one of the initiates panted struggling not to get left behind. Lenric chuckled heartily his broad shoulders bobbing up and down in his armor causing it to clink with his laughter.
“I thought you Dwarves were known for your endurance, if you cannot ENDURE such a pace I might have to begin referring to you as ‘big halflings.’” Lenric retorted. After such a remark Brunos, wearing the golden armor bestowed upon him by Moradin, started to speed up and broke into a run wearing the heavy armor. Lenric tried to follow but even he could not run for more than a short distance in such heavy and clumsy armor. A while after Lenric and the rest of the initiates lost pace Brunos arrived at their destination, stopped and took a seat on a small boulder. The rest of the group caught up minutes later and Brunos stood commanded the group to a halt and stated.
“It is keeping such a pace that the Dwarves are known, you must work hard to condition your endurance and one day you too will be able to run for miles in armor as heavy and encumbersome as mine. No thing on this earth can compare to the speed and endurance of a Dwarf in heavy armor.” He paced back and forth in front of the initiates while giving his speech and noted many of the initiates nodding and showing acceptance of the fact while others were still panting heavily trying to catch their breath and likely did not hear the speech and would likely never reach the level of endurance required to serve as a healer on the battlefield with an army of dwarves. Brunos had seen one such battle himself and was surprised how much endurance it truly did take to run across the battlefield tending to the wounded when only a few minutes later you were needed half a field away. A warpriest was in constant motion around the fields keeping his soldiers healed and fighting his way to the injured when necessary. This battle was years past now. Nearly one hundred fifty years ago a local dwarven tribe was at war with some fierce orcs and called upon the monastary for its help. Brunos was one of only a hundred priests sent to the battle, and only one of barely a few dozen that returned victorious. Thus is the danger of war and has to be accepted.
“I know it is a tough task to ask of you now but this training will only ensure your returning home safely in the future if you are sent to aid a dwarven army in war,” Brunos ended his speech by ajusting his armor taking a swig from his always present flask of dwarven whiskey. Lenric then took a stance in front of the initiates and began;
“As I am sure you know there is no greater honor than fighting with those soldiers willing to give their lives for a greater good, both dwarven and human alike. It is to signify that honor that we are here today. For right here on this ground thousands of soldiers died for our right to live in this range of mountains.” For the first time the initiates began looking around to notice that the valley had opened up into a huge clearing which appeared to be the intersection of multiple valleys creating a sort of crossroads between four mountains. Each of the mountains in themselves was intimidatingly high while the solemn silence of the clearing added to the majesty. Brunos knelt down in front of Lenric and motioned for the rest of the initiates to follow. After the initiates and Brunos all knelt Lenric cleared his throat and continued.
“Almost an even two thousand years ago now a horde of hobgoblins united by a demon prince threatened to push us out of our home. Both dwarves and humans alike. In the face of an unspeakable army the barbarian tribes like my own came to the dwarven cities looking for aid in driving back this force. Our request was well recieved and the dwarven army was assembled. The war went on for years but it was here in this clearing that the deciding battle of that war was fought. It is now called the battle of the four peaks and will always be remembered by those whom it affected. It was during the battle that one of your own, the Abbot Argonum used what power he had left to banish the demons back to their hell and in the process was turned into ashes. The Abbot will never be forgotten for his sacrifice and it was this act that turned the tide in the war. After the unifying force of the demons was gone from the war the ranks of hobgoblins were in shambles allowing the well trained dwarves and ferocious barbarians to cut through them with relative ease,” Lenric raise his hand in the air to signify triumph and Brunos stood and faced the initiates.
“It was this courage and valor of our ancestors that gave us the right to walk here today, to raise our families in these mountains and study our texts in a monastary that would have surely been burnt to the ground by the vile demons that threatened its sanctity.” Brunos bellowed in a tone demanding respect and it was quite clear he was tearing up speaking the words.
“I believe the greatest gift a person can give another is the opportunity for a future.” Holding his head high he looked into the eyes of the initiates and saw a glimmer of understanding from them all, a glimmer that Brunos read like a book as a new motivation and a new determination to complete their training and graduate at the head of their class. Brunos thought to himself, knowing a similar speech the Abbot had given him before the war when Brunos was just an initiate and he knew the feeling of renewed determination. It was that feeling that drove Brunos to further his education and experience at the monastary instead of simply abandoning it to pursue the quest bestowed on him by Moradin. It was a decision that tore at him deeply but the truth of it was that he didn’t know where to start with such a quest and had long decided that abandoning his post was just impossible. If he were to leave his duties unasked and unannounced he would never be welcomed back and would lose the honor for having attended in the first place and even if he declared his intentions he would only be ridiculed or shunned for claiming a quest from an all but forgotten god. On the other side of the stone however was the fact that he had not even started on a quest his chosen god had given him over a century before. Such a tear was deep in Brunos’ heart and ate at him daily. It was only being able to inspire the initiates and spread his teachings that gave Brunos happiness as he longed to begin a quest that he didn’t even know how to start. ‘I just need an opportunity that will enable me to leave the monastary without losing my honor and that would give me a chance to pursue Moradin’s quest’ Brunos often found himself thinking. After the speeches concluded Brunos with a lighter attitude pulled off his backpack and said to the initiates.
“Take a rest here and eat your provisions, we will head back to the monastary in an hour. Enjoy the sites and may you find an inner peace here on the battlegrounds of our forefathers.” Brunos settled down on the boulder and pulled a loaf of bread and some venison jerky from his pack. The initiates excitedly broke into several groups, some running off to explore the clearing whilst some sat and began to eat. The mood was light and spirits high for everyone. After pulling back his long and mangy blonde hair Lenric sat next to Brunos and produced a meal of his own.
“You were saying my friend?” Lenric asked referring to the conversation they were having before Brunos broke off into his run.
“Ah yes,” Brunos took a moment to recall, “I was saying that I don’t know what to do, I know in my heart that I am meant to take a leave and journ to find the hammer of Moradin, however my honor holds me from leaving my spot in the monastary. I would be hard pressed with having a reason to leave the monastary on a good note.”
Lenric took a moment to think before responding, “Perhaps you could ask to go as a missionary to spread good will throughout the world and during which you could search for the hammer?”
Brunos responded quickly, “Tis an option I have thought of but such a quest would be a harsh undertaking and I would probably find myself unable to do any mission work whilst on the quest. With the mission work undone it will be surely uncovered by the monastary that I have taken the leave for personal reasons and not reasons related to the church.”
“You will find a way, if it is in the stars for you to complete this journy a way will present itself I am sure.” Lenric replied hoping to cheer his friend up.
“I do believe you Lenric, I hope it is in fact written in the stars for me to complete such a journy for it would be hard to consider myself happy if I was never given the chance.” Brunos hastily downed another large gulp of whiskey and began eating quietly. Lenric took a moment to examine Brunos understanding the tear in his heart and hoping that his friend would soon get his wish, then began to quiety eat as well.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 8
Changes


Deriaz moved quietly out of the Phoenix Tavern, avoiding any eye contact from anybody. The event he had just witnessed—Or at least the end of it—had his mind racing. He shut down the image and thought of it, and forced himself not to think about it. Something just didn’t seem right about it. ‘Sure,’ he thought, ‘I could stay and find out, but. . . I don’t think I would have fit there. . .’

As soon as his feet touched the ground outside, and he heard the door shut behind him, he took off. He ran, just trying to get away from the Phoenix. Too many emotions were swimming in his head, and he wanted to be rid of it. He would have kept going, if it wasn’t for a green foot that slid out from behind the corner of an alleyway, and tripped him. He braced himself for the impact of hitting the ground, but someone grabbing the back of his neck and yanking him back surprised him.

He felt himself hit a wall, and finally opened his eyes. He glanced down at a familiar six foot tall Forged holding him against the wall.

“Ranux--?” he started, but the green Forged shushed him. There was something odd about him. . . Deriaz pinned it quickly: The plating was Adamantine, instead of Mithril, and instead of a bow on his back, there was a Greatsword. “What—“ he tried to start again, but Ranux beckoned him into the alleyway.

In the middle of the alleyway, around a corner where no one could see them, a lone chair sat. “Sit,” Ranux said almost harshly. Deriaz sat as he was told, looking around confused.

“What’s going on? Ranux, what’s with the sword? And the plating?” Deriaz had more questions to ask, but he figured those would do for the moment.

But Ranux completely ignored the queries. “. . . You’re a valuable one, right? The shifting ability. . .” He read the look on Deriaz’s face. “Yes, yes, I know. ‘How did you find out!?’ I have my sources, Deriaz. . . I’m not the only follower in this town. Now, listen to me. . . You’re obviously confused, am I right? With so many events going on in your life, you don’t know what to do, do you? You’re probably thinking to yourself, ‘What am I fighting for? There must be something more.’ . . .

“What if. . .” he turned to face Deriaz, “. . . I could offer you something to help you? Mind you, it’s a bit of a change. Side effects galore. But. . . It will give you resources into fighting these events. Resources to defend yourself,” he sighed, and walked around behind Deriaz. He leaned close down to the blue Forged, and whispered next to him, “Resources to impress her. . .”

Deriaz blinked, and turned to try and face Ranux. “You speak of resources, but what are they? How do I know she won’t hate them, or that they’ll just make things worse?”

Ranux turned him, to face him forward and away from him. He set his hands down on Deriaz’s shoulders. “Listen, big guy. . . You’ve got talent. I know someone who could use that talent. And, I can give you even more talent. Trust me on this. . . And it’s not like I’m changing you in one big step. First off, it’ll just be a physical change. Minor, very minor. You won’t even notice it, with your ability to shift. Then, we’ll move into more complex changes. I can make you heavier, bigger, stronger. . .” Deriaz felt Ranux’s hands tighten on his shoulders, and an odd sensation washed over him. “. . . Deadlier.”

Ranux laughed to himself. “This one, though, is very, very minor. Just relax. . . This may sting a bit.”

Deriaz started to worry. The last time he was told something wouldn’t sting, he nearly lost a limb. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just going to infuse you with something. . . Most Warforged in the ranks I work under choose this path themselves. Some need a little help to go down it. . . You ever heard of a Juggernaut, Deriaz?”

Deriaz felt a tingling sensation run over ever piece of plating on his body. The Docent in his chest, which he had inserted hours before—And couldn’t remove—started to heat up. “Never heard of one.”

“They’ve been called machines of war. Engines of destruction. . . A Warforged Juggernaut. And one that could shift, as yourself. . . Well, that’s never even been imagined, before. One of the most noticeable traits about them, though. . .” He trailed off, and stared down at Deriaz’s arms.

Deriaz noticed it at the same time, and began to growl in slight pain. Spikes were beginning to literally grow out of the plating. Ranux continued, “. . . Is the armor spikes. Not just for show. . . These things can hurt, if you could grab someone and beat them with them. And don’t worry about losing them. . . They can’t come off. . .”

Ranux’s hands left Deriaz’s shoulders, and went to the back of his head. The hands found the weak plate on Deriaz’s head, and instantly clasped around it. “And with a little tweaking. . .” The spikes disappeared as quickly as they came. “There. This will be your normal appearance. . . At will, you can bring out the spikes. And. . . Your shifting ability won’t interfere with this. In fact, they may even benefit each other. . .” Ranux smiled to himself, liking the work he had done. He made a move to go at the back of Deriaz’s head. “Now, then, this comes with a price. Juggernauts have no need for emotion, so I’ll just—“

Deriaz jumped from the chair, and backed away from Ranux. “I let you help me. . . And I thank you for that. . . But. . . You will not mess with my emotions. . . You got that?”

Ranux held up his hands defensively. “Alright, alright. . . But listen. . . You try those spikes out. See if they help you out. See if she likes them. . . And come back when you’re ready for another step into that transformation. Should start to work on your plating. Make you harder to hit with a stronger hit. . . But as it stands now, you shouldn’t be moving around after a change like this. . . So. . . If I may make a suggestion. . .”

He pointed a finger at Deriaz. “Lie down.” An invisible force pushed into Deriaz, and he felt his body pushed to the ground. The force continued to push into him, and he felt himself actually start to sink into the ground. “That should hold you till the morning. . .” He moved over, and dragged Deriaz carefully behind some boxes. “Enjoy the Command. You’ll be here till the morning. . . I’ll come back to find you some time, see if you’re enjoying the changes and would like to continue.” Without another word, Ranux left Deriaz in the alleyway.

‘. . . How is it. . .’ Deriaz thought, ‘. . . That all of this. . . Happens. . . To me? I mean. . . I don’t know of anyone else that’s constantly trying to be killed by a relative, or starts being mutated by a friend or controlled by a random artificer. . .’ The Docent in his chest spoke to him, as it had been doing ever since he inserted it. The voice was still low and fast, like an urgent whisper, yet he couldn’t make out any of the languages it was speaking.

"Yeah, I didn’t ask you. . ." Deriaz muttered, and let time slip by.

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XV "The means and The End" Chapter 6


*Dawn*

*Varro sifted through the letters and boxes at the Orien post master's station, double checking addresses. He had spent a good portion of the eve before visiting with the people of the city. Many were still singing the congradulations of his union with Uxor, but many more were simply happy to see the Ambassador 'out and about again.' Indeed, it had been some time since Varro had been a public presence. Most folk had attributed it to him being on honeymoon. One party goer to the war-games had denoted that his demenour seemed off... which Varro stated to being simply that he was exhausted. He was thankful to be such a liar sometimes... one of the few gifts of his mother perhaps. His late mother. The demise of Mekari still played upon his thoughts. Thankfully, he had a much bigger distraction now. He stacked the outgoing parcels for the postmaster, and prepaired for the next most difficult task... at the guildhall.*


*Afternoon*
*Silence. A wave of it washed through the hall, to drown out any previous conversation, as Uxor and Varro stood before the council. Their news had stilled all word and motion from any present. Varro glowered, but Uxor remained where she stood, with her stoic expression, watching the Lady Hope in particular. Varro continued*
Varro: Thank you for all the kindnesses and acceptance you have shown us, Lady *he bowed very deeply to Hope. For once, he was being genuine in his display of respect.*
*Uxor likewise gave a deep bow, but offered no words. There were none for the matter at hand.*


*Evening*
*Several packages arrived at the homes of various residents of Stormreach...*

*A letter was delivered to the post-box-of-holding of one Darius, but was addressed to 'Shiningeagle'*

"Shining,

My vast appologies at being unavailable to tend to the matter of urgency. I unfortunately now have a matter of urgency as well... and by the time you receive this, you will know of what I speak. However, you have my deepest congradulations at your promotion among the guild, and hopefully I've not spoiled anything by writing it so, but as I will not get the chance to congradulate you in person on it perhaps, I do so here.

- Varro Velox and Uxor Velox" *signed in Varro's penmanship*

*A letter was delivered to the post-box of one Zoltando. In Varro's handwriting was written*

"Zoltando,

You will be pleased to know that your wedding gift did indeed help the groom. Perhaps it will also please you to know that with it, the threat of Mekari has been... resolved. Indefinitely. Thank you, I don't know that any other weapon I had would have so done what I required, in such an effective way.

- Varro"


*A very large, and long, package was delivered to a Jaggie Jutebox and a Deriaz Ironfist, who now shared a common postbox-of-holding with the Orien courier service. Within the package was: A large sword; A small pouch, containing a gemstone and a small silver earcuff; and two scrolls. Upon these scroll was writing in two penmanships, which read.*

"To Jaggie & Deriaz,

I believe you, Deriaz, will find the contents of the pouch to be of some importance perhaps. I am sorry to have kept it from you, but even more sorry that there is no longer a need to do so. It will come as relief, or surprise, that the one who kept it from you is no more. You and I have had our disputes in the past, but there they will remain. Thank you for helping Uxor when I was being an idiot. Take care of Jaggie.

- Varro"

"Der,

I think you'll have missed this sword. It was found on Mekari's body. You'll be glad to have it back no doubt. As for the earing, I wanted you to keep one for me, not out of shame, but out of safe keeping. Thank you for your friendship. So often you have come to my aide, and the aide of Varro. Now you have a new 'friend' to mind, and if I know you, she is in good hands. Send Jaggie my love as well, and congradulations to both of you - not only on your promotions - but on having one another. Neither of you will ever be far from our thoughts, so long as those thoughts are happy and joyous. Take care my very dear friend.

- Uxor Velox"

*A package was delivered to the the postbox of Juryrig, with the writing of Varro upon the outside reading 'To A. Juryrig.' Within the small box was a folded light-blue cloak, woven of glamour weave. Resting upon the fabric was a folded letter*

"Agent Juryrig,

Your justice is satisfied. Elena of the Silver Stalkers is no more; I believe you'll recognize the cloak. You may be surprised to find that you have the thanks of Ambassador Uxor and I. You also have my appologies. I don't agree with your methods, but I think we can both agree that you and I both had been played for fools. Know that the musician who did so now playes the lyre in hell.
- Minstrel Varro Velox"

*A letter was delivered to the postbox of Points, with the handwriting of Uxor upon the outside reading "Councilman Points DeWay"*

"Points,

You are a good friend. As such, I cannot go without leaving you these words of friendship.
Your heart may have known sorrow, but your presence has filled mine with the deep love that comes of friendship. Do not think on this as goodbye, merely a letter of gratitude. I thank you for your advice to make a new vow with Varro. Now I have one for you... our paths will cross again, that is my oath to you. Be safe, dear friend

- Uxor Velox"

*A letter was delivered to the postbox of Tyr and Ruse, addressed to Tyr, in Varro's penmanship*

"Sister,

If you have love for me as a brother to you, then please do not reach out for me with your mind as you read this. That sentence alone will more than likely prompt you to do so, but please read my words. There is something that calls me away from you... far away. Uxor and I both must travel, and I see no return to Stormreach in our futures unless the gods are in very fine spirits to be merciful. Take heart in knowing that we journey together. This venture is not a matter of threat, so have no fear of that. Physically I may be far, but know that I will always be able to see you in your happiness, and this I will share with Uxor. Be happy often for me, that I might so frequently get to bask in knowing your joys. As I can, I may yet be able to spare a visit from time to time, by way of mind-speaking, but I make no promises. So instead, know that I will always be watching for you among the celebration of the world. Distance cannot change the fact that to me, you are my family.

With great love
- Brotherman"

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XV "The means and The End" Chapter 7

*Varro sighed, arranging the last of their belongings in the home. While it was their wedding abode, to be gone from it he found to be not all that distressing. Being away from the memory of his final encounter with his mother was a blessing. He just had not anticipated it to come in such a way as it had...

*Uxor sat up very straight at the appearence of the Avatar. Varro was a bit surprised himself, as he had not expected the Avatar to appear directly before Uxor as well, and so soon. Tyr had only been gone perhaps a few minutes from their home with the body of Mekari. The Avatar smiled at the two of them. Uxor didn't know if the Avatar could still hear her, but she decided to ask anyway with her thoughts*

Uxor: <Was that the choice I had to make... to be willing to die, and to let him make his own decision?>

Avatar: What? Of course not, what gave you that idea?

*Varro looked between the two of them, only having heard the Avatar reply to a question he had no awareness of, but the Avatar continued, looking directly to him*

Avatar: It's time, Augur.

Varro: I know. I felt it.

Avatar: Good... starting to grow up a little for me now I see. I knew you'd get the hang of this sooner or later.

Varro: I said I sensed it, but that doesn't mean I know exactly what you want.

Avatar: I have some work for you to do Augur. It's going to require you to take a little trip. An indefinite one. Indefinite for now anyway, depending upon how well you do with my task.

*It was Uxor's turn to look at the two in confusion. Varro did not yet address her concern, sitting up very defiantly toward the Avatar, which was something he had not before done.*

Varro: I won't leave her.

Avatar: Never said you had to... bring her along. *before Uxor could even form the question, the Avatar continued, now looking to Uxor* You have a choice, Lady of the Augur. I require the Augur in Sharn. For what amount of time is to be seen. So... remain, or go with him.

*Once again, before she had made the words in her mind, her sentiment had carried to the Avatar - perhaps to Varro too - and the Avatar nodded*

Avatar: A better match for my Augur, there is none. Both of you, travel to Sharn, but how you arrive, I leave to you. Augur, I understand your history with the city, but it is necessary to find the means to make certain your old life does not come back to undermine your efforts. When you have arrived, you will learn of this great task.

*Varro shut several of the doors, thinking now on a different problem. He knew he would have to be a bit more diligent with changing his appearence - even his behavior - in Sharn, so as not to refresh anyone's memory of his old life. Coming to Stormreach had been easy... he knew no one, and no one at the time had known him. Going back to where you fled from was quite another matter. Ultimately, as much as he hated to admit it, the only answer he could see was the use of Mekari's mask. There was a certain amount of disdain he had for the notion that once again, his mother...from beyond the grave apparently... would have such an impact on his life. He reflected that now both of his parents had managed to disrupt or manipulate his existence without being among the living. He then considered how ironic it was for him to think on this, considering what he was going to ask of Uxor.*

*Uxor had been making several trips to the regional vendors, selling various affects. She was glad to arrive home... or at least what was for the moment home. It had been difficult, chancing upon familiar faces who were traveling through the desert, set for adventure, but stopping to greet her. Very often it was congradulations on her nuptuals, or gratitude for the work of the guild in Stormreach, or even to have her send along kind regards to her husband. In part, she was thankful that she had renewed her vow, for to have to speak aloud with them would most certainly give away her sorrow at knowing what they, as yet, did not. Her primary fret had been the guild... they had come to be family. She took great comfort in knowing that via Varro's Augur images, she would still have a sort of small window into the lives of her guildmates and friends. Even dispite this, she knew that it was as hard for them to hear of the departure as it was to say it. Not being able to give them the specifics only compounded the agony of she and Varro stepping down from their Ambassadorship. In particular, Hope's reaction had been her great dread. The Lady Hope had been very instrumental in Uxor's life; an influence felt, but not always seen. Uxor was greatly saddened to have to relinquish the gift that the Lady had given so freely. More over was the knowledge that the Fellowship had taken in Varro without question... helped to provide a safe haven for him to nurse his emotional wounds... permitted the Bard to florish in what he did best... and treated him with as great a respect as Uxor, despite the fact he was not technically a member of the High Council, and merely acted as voice for Uxor's Ambassador work. This had become their family. However, she knew that her Master's words were correct. To marry meant an adjustment in one's karma. To walk one's path was more complex because of a spouse. Here in was the difficulty. To leave all that she had come to know behind, for Varro's higher calling. The Avatar had been honest with her - there was a choice. While there had been no question in her mind that the answer to that choice was to go, it did not make the departure any less difficult. Briefly she considered that perhaps the one who had taken her memories had done her a favor, for at least back then she knew no loss at leaving her friends and family behind. Most everything in their home was in order, as she walked to find Varro. He was in the bedchamber, sitting fold-legged on the edge of the bed, staring down at something in his hand.*

Varro: All set?

*Reflexively she nodded, realizing afterward that he wasn't looking to her. She came to sit down beside him, denoting the object in his hands was the mask. Uxor drapped an arm round his shoulders. He had not been himself since Mekari's demise, and she did all she could to comfort him. There were limitations in what she could do for him, but there was always one thing that seemed to stir a bit of his old self back. Uxor rested her chin on his shoulder, which prompted him to turn his head to her, tipping it until their foreheads touched.*

Varro: I need to ask you something.

*She nodded her head slightly, leaning back to await his question*

Varro: I can't return to Sharn looking as I do now. It's been luck that I've not been recognized here in Stormreach, but in Sharn it will be a different matter. I've considered for a long time that the best way to accomplish such a change is with this *he held up the mask. Uxor seemed to understand, but as he had not yet presented his question, she nodded for him to continue.* This means I have to decide what I will look like. You're going to say that you love me no matter what I look like, and I know you do, but I want to make this easier on you. You're giving up a lot for me Ux... you've offered to give up so much more. You talk about karma, so I feel this is mine. We're going somewhere you've never been before, away from our friends, the guild, our family, all of it. I want you to have an easier time adapting, not because I think you can't handle it - I know you'll endure anything that life throws at us - but because I seek your comfort. When you look at me, I don't want you to have to 'learn' to know my appearence. More over, when you look at me, I want it to give you a sense of security and love. There was only one appearence that meets that... how do you feel of it?

*Uxor considered his words, and the consequences of such an act. She brought out something to write with. Of late, Varro resorted to mind speaking with her less often, and she was grateful for his courtesy. She held the paper and writing stick, but it took a moment before they were put to use* "I'm not sure. Part of me is afraid that seeing you like that will bring my memories rushing back. Another part of me fears for what conflicting emotions will be stirred up. This is my life now, with you."

Varro: I know. But I also know that the life we have now is about to be a thing of the past Ux. It's one thing to have your memories taken, and for them to flicker into your awareness subtly. It's quite another to have them there to haunt you first hand. I've had my share of it, and sometimes I envy you over your ignorance to your past. But now the memories of our time here are going to come with you to a strange and unfamiliar place, and the one thing you could look to for familiar comfort, my face, isn't even there, and will be the face of a stranger like all the rest. You know what's behind that face, but I'd rather you not have to adjust yourself in that way.

*Uxor sighed at hearing Varro state things that were already upon her thoughts.* "Alright. If you are to do this, then I'd rather you did so now, so I will know now what will come of seeing you as him. No surprises for later, we deal with this now. Show me."

*In part, Varro seemed relieved by her willingness to receive this unusual gift from him. This did not outweigh his caution, and he sat up, steadying himself for what response she might have. Varro lifted the mask to his face. It was a curious thing, seeming to hold itself against his features of its own accord, without need of a tie or cord to secure it. All day he had experimented with it, trying various appearences, and being satisfied with none of them. He had but to think on the features, and his appearence was as he imagined... he had so tested it infront of a mirror. Accuracy was not the problem, it was simply displeasure over coming up with one that would be easy on Uxor's eyes. This appearence was the only he could stomach as being the one to present her.*

*Despite the fact that he was sitting in profile to Uxor, once the mask was upon him, and the new appearence washed over Varro silently, Uxor knew the face as if no change had happened at all. Sitting beside her was the most distinctive profile of her first husband, by name, Verro Tacitus. She reached out towards his face, and her fingers came upon what would have been the skin of his cheek. Instead, her cold fingertips met an equally cold surface that felt like either metal or glazed pottery. Combined with the sound of the bard's voice, saying 'well?,' feeling the surface of the mask brought realization firmly to her of who indeed was beside her. Varro Velox. Varro and Verro. Much fell into place for Uxor now. That was the reason she had been so drawn to Varro when they had first been introduced to one another. The sound of his name was like her original husband's, and with that came the sentiments of love and lust that one had for their spouse. Since she had no memory of her past however, it became shrouded in the concept of merely attraction, and further burried by Uxor's diligent work to stuff her emotions behind logic and proper protocal... being Endaria's friend. The face of Verro Tacitus glowered, and Varro Velox's voice came from the lips*


Varro: This was the only appearence I could think of that would be of any good sentiments for you in a strange place. That you miss him doesn't threaten me.

*Uxor's expression turned to a frown, as she realized her sense of happiness at seeing her former husband's face had probably flashed across Varro's Augur senses. She started to write an appology, but he put a hand on hers to stop her from completing the sentence.*

Varro: I knew. When I first found the means to look to your past, and I knew what his name was. It actually made sense to me. Just because it started off as the nostalgia of a name doesn't make what we have now less so, Uxor. The name might have been what initiated it, but it has had nothing to do with us coming to the life we have together now. If you don't want me to look this way, I will figure something out. *He reached up to take the mask off, and the face of Vero Tacitus dematerialized to Varo Velox holding a strange mask.*

*Uxor touched Varro's features with fondness, before she continued to write.* "Karma. We're going to your home city, and you will be surrounded by your past there. It is only fair that I should have one element of my own past to be confronted with. However, confronted is a harsh word. It does ease me seeing him again." *she paused a moment.* "Do you know if he is alive? I don't ask out of a desire to seek him out."

Varro: If I knew the answer, would you truly wish to hear?

*Uxor didn't answer at first, but then wrote* "Yes. I need to know. To know if one day I will be travelling with you on another 'errand' and come upon him, and he would recognize me."

Varro: Then I give you your answer, as you request, for I can deny you nothing. He is.

*With that, Uxor nodded, and asked no further of the matter. She would come to that fork in her path only if it presented itself. She wrote* "The face I loved, and the face I now love. Both will please me to see, but promise me that as often as you can, you will be yourself, the way I know and love you now."

Varro: Whatever you want. However you want. There is nothing I won’t grant you. No pleasure too great to ask for. Anything Uxor. *these words she had heard before, but as then, they prompted a deep sense of thanks from her.*

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Volumn XV "The means and The End" Chapter 8

*Darkness was still lingering over the harbor when Uxor arrived at the docks. It was so early in the morning that the streets had been practically empty on her way there. For that, she was thankful. She had been greatly worried that Deriaz might be prowling the docks, but fortunately he spent much of his time these days with Jaggie. Uxor didn't think she could handle having to say goodbye to him, or any others for that matter, as it would only make it more painful to all involved. Instead, she had sent her regards along with Varro's letters. Varro had opted to arrive seperately, so as not to arouse questions from others, and to give him the chance to assume his new appearence to board the ship. Uxor walked up the gangway, looking round for signs of sailors. Yawning and dragging his way toward her came the man on watch*

What business Ambassador?

*Uxor held out papers along with payment to the fellow, who read them over and nodded* We won't be sailing for some hours Ambassador. You're welcome to get comfortable aboard, but I'm afraid we can't speed up the voyage unfortunately.

Uxor: *inside the blank book that Cerulean had given to her, which had been put to frequent and fond use of writing, she scratched out answer* "That is fine. I can wait below and rest until we set off. There is no need to think you must hurry on my account. I merely wished to board early."

*Uxor did not immediately go below deck however, for she walked about discretely... watching the waters, waiting for Varro, but also looking on the city for what would be the last time perhaps.*

*The deck hand eyed the papers, and eyed the dark haired man before him. The robe seemed to fit the part, but he didn't remember the Augur having black hair. The voice was correct however, so he nodded and bowed* Welcome aboard Ambassador Velox. Seems we've a rash of early rising dignitaries this morning.

Varro: Well be a decent fellow and keep that under your hat, what's say? *which Varro followed by offering another small pouch of gems absently to the man.*

*The deck hand smiled* What dignitaries?

Varro: Good man. *he offered him a light pat on the shoulder, and set to finding Uxor. When Uxor saw him, she seemed startled.* What's wrong?

Uxor: *she blinked at him as if it were stupid of him to ask, writing* "Your hair??" *Varro had the appearence of Verro Tacitus in the face, but the black hair was longer, pulled back to the short-cropped pony tail he usually wore when his hair had been auburn. Upon his chin was his normal tuft of well groomed facial hair, which he had already set to rubbing as he spoke*

Varro: Oh...right. *he glanced round, making certain no one of importance was within earshot, and if so, spoke in their coded Auren and Quori talk* [I thought this might help you adjust, having a sort of...mixed appearence.]

Uxor: "Will anyone know it though, with the voice?"

Varro: [No. My voice will not be a problem. All this time spent among the citizens here has rubbed off their odd accent on me, and my own has been fading. It will help. To be honest, keeping my hair as short as your husband....ahem... your last husband would actually be worse. When I left Sharn, I started growing my hair out. I used to wear it extremely short when I lived there. I also started growing the chin hair here too, so no worries there either. Not to mention, if anyone asks after whether or not Varro Velox boarded this vessel... a man with the robe of the Augur and a soul patch was most certainly seen.]

*Uxor rolled her eyes at him, not being able to really argue any of the points, and not caring to either.*

Varro: Come on, let's get our cabin set...

*When daylight had breeched the horizon, the ship was already upon the water, setting sail for Sharn. Uxor and Varro had come more topside, watching the city in the distance.*

Varro: It's funny.

*Uxor raised a brow at him*

Varro: I'm leaving Stormreach in the same way I arrived, and once again with a wife beside me.

*Uxor took his arm, and rested her chin on his shoulder, watching Stormreach disappear into the dawn mists of the sea... passing too into the mists of memory.*

*When they finally set foot in Sharn, Uxor was stunned by the appearence of the place. She had never before seen a city like it. Stormreach had been impressive, but Sharn was beautiful and loomed impressively high all around her. There was little time to absorb this, for she and Varro were greeted by a pack of men and women. Initially she feared who it was that would know them here, but one face among this crowd she recognized. The Avatar's. He smiled and motioned them forward into the huddle of strangers. Varro recognized several other among them. One was the distinctive presence of a pale female elf... the one who had so gifted him with his shield at his birthday party. Another he recognized as a man who had been to several of his functions in Stormreach, but who had never offered his name previously, but seemed to spend a good deal of his time with the Avatar. The more he and Uxor looked among them, the more at ease they started to feel. Perhaps Sharn would not be so strange and foreign as they thought. It dawned on Varro that here walking beside them, appearing as merely a gathering of men and women, was the host of those that the Avatar had spoken of... The rulers of revelry and merriment. They. The ones the Avatar served...or served with perhaps - Varro wasn't certain. As the group encircled them, escorting them through the streets, the Avatar put his arm round both of them, offering his knowing smile.*

Avatar: Welcome home, Ambassadors.

((The End.))

[Merlask]

Fellowship of the Golden Night
The Ambassadors
Epilogue

To all who have followed Varro and Uxor through their time in Stormreach, I thank you for your readership. I hope that their story will inspire others to take up the call of in-game roleplaying. Too often I hear from players that when it comes to MMORPGs, two letters become missing in that acronym: RP. Let this story stand as an example of what you can accomplish with your time as a roleplayer in the game. Rather than leaving you merely with the ending of their story, I offer this epilogue to help provide more direct insite into some specific aspects of the writing. Additionally, this will elaborate in terms of dealing with rping that happens in game, and how it can be encorporated into stories you write concerning your character(s).

BRINGING VARRO AND UXOR INTO THE WORLD

Both Uxor and Varro have their origin outside of DDO. Varro was the first created, but was an import. I wrote him to be the off-spring of a pen and paper Kalashtar of mine, Mekari. My pen and paper game had been cancelled, but I really enjoyed the setting and the interaction. Rather than trying to rework the original character into the game at first, I simply made Varro as the child of that pen and paper character. Initially I played the game with my real life husband, who was curious about roleplaying. So we crafted the story of Varro and Endaria. In time, I decided that I wanted a melee character to go with his cleric, and since my other pen and paper game also was brought to an abrupt halt by the GM no longer being able to run it, once again outside influence shaped the introduction of my 2nd DDO character. Uxor was made as the daughter of a forgotten realms setting character, who had made cameos in yet another setting. I often 'transplant' characters from settings. Specifically where a character comes from is sometimes immaterial compaired with how they interact with the current world around them. The key to this is being non-descript about their past. I have never stated the specific country where Uxor comes from, nor the specific religion she is a part of. People often think of it as buddhism I'm sure, but I have never onced refered to it as such. Her racial background, being the daughter of a 'half Immoth,' is more specific, but also as vague. Immoths are an extra-planar creature from the pen and paper D&D monster manuel, and thus, able to be implanted into any D&D setting theoretically. Her father from my pen and paper game, the half Immoth named Optelius, received a few qualities for being a part immoth such as a higher charisma, strength, half damage from piercing type weapons, and immunity to cold or cold effects. In terms of Uxor, I downplayed it to two things - having cold skin, and cold resistance rather than immunity. When using other D&D settings for influence - or even non D&D altogether - ambiguity and flexibility is key.

STARTING THE STORIES

The first chapter, a short one, entitled "The Masked Ball," was one of the few times when I set down a specific time line for my characters. Previously, I had always dealt with Varro and Uxor on the fly, interacting with others with no long term story goals. The most heavy interaction would be simply learning about one another's past, but not really building future story interaction together. That all changed the day my husband left the game. Varro and Uxor had been played off previously as being friends through my husband's character Endaria, which was technically true, for I would often log one or the other depending on what the group needed more: a bard or a melee. With my husband gone, I turned to roleplaying the characters more heavily, the groundwork of long term story being laid in having to write Endaria out of the picture. I opted to portray my husband's leaving the game as a mysterious death, rather than simply a divorce. I wanted it to be certain that his character was not coming back, and didn't want to leave it open for other players to try and 'go look for Endaria' in that sense. Having the death as an unexplained situation also added an element of danger to the rping that was lacking before. When players die in the game, typically we work under the assumption that characters receive a ressurrection or can be brought back through a shrine or NPC. Thus the notion that there might be a situation where you can't come back adds back in that risk factor, and helps generate more of a sense of strife when conflict occurs between characters. It is no longer simply 'if you kill me, I will come back.'

The long term story started because I wanted to host a player event, but I wanted it to specifically being a role-playing get together. In order to enhance the story of the event itself, I tied in Varro's personal trouble into the back-story of the party I was hosting. In this way, if players had trouble coming up with something to talk about at the party, they could always approach me and ask about Varro's 'recent loss.' Not long afterwards, I received a promotion within my guild, turned it into a PR position, and thus the story then became the evolution of how Varro and Uxor became co-workers and ambassadors on top of being friends.

The choice to bring in Mekari was actually due to me wanting to create a low level healer for guild purposes. Rather than making an easy cookie-cutter background, I instead added in an element of conflict by making my new healer Mekari, the mother of Varro. The reason this was such a conflict was due to Uxor's great aversion to psionic creatures, and - as per his write up - Varro's disdain for his mother. In this way, it was established early on to other players that there was something 'off' about the character. This helped to give a focal point that no matter how derailed my stories might get with the other players, there was a small central concern for my two characters they could default to.

As I interacted with more players, the story began to take on a more set pace and direction. In order to accomplish this as a roleplayer, your character needs both motives, and consistant characters that they are around. While my characters would actively roleplay with as many folk as I could, the long term interaction usually plays out among only a small group of players, who enter and exit the story over time. I would say the more dominant characters in the story that have impacted the direction it has taken are (in order of appearence in the story archs): Deriaz, The Avatar (Technically the Avatar is an NPC, but based on an actual in-game persona), and Tyr. Other characters have had very strong influence within the stories, such as Points, Cerulean, Liyra, Sho, Hope, Jaggie, etc. Hence the series of letters that appears in the final chapters, addressed to individual characters, is a brief tribute to these characters who became so much a part of Varro and Uxor's lives, and mine.

WORKING AROUND GAME MECHANICS

The story is filled with references to things that are not traditionally found within the confines of the DDO game itself. For myself, I find sometimes that it is fun to try and find in-character ways to explain mmo conventions, or to include things in an mmo that the game can't handle. One such example is the appearence of Mekari. At the time (and at the time this epilogue is written) psionics is not a playable feature for the game. Instead I had to find other means to explain her presence. I had to restrict her to being a more NPC style character, and many of her more powerful abilities were only seen rped in the story, not directly in the game. Plenty of times I or fellow roleplayers will make reference to a spell in the stories and chat transcripts that just literaly does not exist in the game, such as 'disk of force' or the psionic feat 'up the walls.' I've never let that stop me from including these things into the story. You are limited only by your imagination and that of your fellow players, not by the game itself. The game is merely the locality of where your character is, but is not the law of how and what your character does ultimately. In order to craft an interesting tale, you sometimes have to sacrifice game mechanics.

THE USE OF CHAT TRANSCRIPTS IN STORIES

Very often players will roleplay outside of the game in order to log their story progress. In game, there is no feature presently to capture the great storytelling that can take place between players. Thus, players (such as myself) turn to out-of-game roleplaying through guild websites, instant messengers, or other methods that can be transcripted for posterity. There are literally many thousands of pages of roleplaying that could be denoted this way, but posting all of them for reading would simply become overwhelming for outside readers. Hence I often only include chat transcripts that are directly related to the progression of the story. Examples of this are the early interactions with Deriaz, the fight on the beach with the Lord of Blades, the proposal of Varro and Uxor, and the interactions with Tyr. This adds a fresh element to the stories because the style of other writers comes briefly into play. Other times, I simply write the story from the point at which my characters interact away from other players...filling in those voids of interaction between when players last saw Varro and or Uxor, and sometimes recapping events that have happened between the last chapter and the present. In more recent days, my more favorite method of doing chapters, amid the other two types, is paraphrasing. I retell a particular night of rping, but through the eyes of only specific characters. In this way, things that might not have come across to the other players are elaborated on. The single most powerful example of this is the torture scene of Varro and Uxor. That event was roleplayed out in full up until the point that Juryrig exits the scene, but I transcribed all of the events from memory, telling it from the perspective of Varro initially, then Uxor, then a slice of both. Later, when Varro confronts Juryrig to 'dispatch his justice,' once again the story is a retelling of what occured in a guild chat between Varro, Uxor, and the players of Dalharil, Jaggie, Juryrig, Zoltando, Cerulean, and Shiningeagle. When doing the story in this way, I will often quote many of the 'out-loud' parts of the roleplaying that were actually posted in the chat as nearly as I can recall them. Here are two examples of the difference between the posted story, and what players saw live in chat:

LIVE CHAT
Shiningeagle: Then Varro had better change his orders
Varro: I will watch that warforged die before I will see my request denied. I will not be denied my justice. Now move! *held up the mace still poised to deliver the strike to the warforged*

the player of Shiningeagle then proceeded to curse Varro, the verbage of which I don't rightly recall. From Shiningeagle's perspective, Varro was simply being vendictive and spiteful towards Juryrig. However, once the story is posted, it gives an insite to what was going on in the head of Varro at the time.

POSTED STORY
Shiningeagle: Then Varro had better change his request!
*Varro's eyes narrowed at that. Others were to be the one to decide how this would be ended? His whole being shivered with utter ire at this dwarf, and his words came out with unrelenting malice and intent*
Varro: I will watch that warforged die before I will see my request denied. I will not be denied my justice. Now move!
*Shiningeagle threw up his arms and howled with curses at Varro, and all manner of ill wish, and Varro spat at the notion. Who was the dwarf to have any say in this matter beyond what Varro and Juryrig agreed to. It was by Juryrig's own request he was here to 'dispatch justice.' He could very well have just killed Juryrig and have been rid of the trouble in the first place. But Uxor was correct... neither of them had died in the ordeal. This request was not out of the realm of reason, it was simply karma! That was Uxor's word for all creation, karma! THIS was karma! To be put to the justice of one you had wronged. Juryrig had shattered his jaw, and removed Varro's capasity to speak, and for Juryrig to endure the same was not beyond reason!*

another very good example from that same scene was the player of Dalharil, who was friends with Juryrig and refused to move out from under Varro's hit, trying to protect her friend. Repeatedly the only things posted to Dalharil was that Varro was holding the weapon, ready to strike, and looking at her as if he had every intent to strike her as well if she wouldn't get out of the way. Ultimately, she refused to move, and he relents from the attack.

LIVE CHAT
Varro: *he practically muttered it as he stared at Dalharil* Why won't you move...
Dalharil: You know that it's wrong.
Varro: No. I just know how it feels.

This was the extent of the explaination that Dalharil saw in chat in terms of why Varro relented. From her perspective, he stopped because of Uxor perhaps, for his eyes would shift to Uxor briefly during the interaction. When the posted story came out, direct insight into what was going on in Varro's head is able to be seen.

POSTED STORY
*He stared back at her. She looked at him with determination not to move. Fine. He would strike them both. It was not as if she hadn't been warned, asked nicely, asked LESS nicely, and still if she was to be stubborn about this, it was her own doing.*

*The weapon hung in the air, awaiting him to dispatch justice. This was his right. Nothing stood between him and resolution. He stared at Dalharil with an expression meant to show her... he was not going to relent. She could not stop this. He was right, and he would NOT back down. He was not afraid to take her out in the process if she would not move. She still sat there, staring at him. The scene of Uxor's torture kept playing to him again and again - his eyes involuntarily shifted to Uxor as he loomed over the forge and tiny cleric at his feet - and the more he stared at Dalharil, the more one moment kept coming to him again....

Varro: <I will give you my soul, I will give up being Augur, I will do anything you ask, just please help her.>

and Uxor, begging for Juryrig to take her instead of him. Watching. Watching her and wanting nothing more than to stop it for her. Knowing that to watch him being subjected to his pain was more distress than all the fire, acid, blade, and all other things being done to her body... she was still calling his name over all of it. Her was Dalharil... watching him. Watching what he was going to do to her friend. Watching and being unable to change what was going to happen, but wanting more than anything for it to stop...*

Varro's choice to stop was not based in doing the 'right' thing or showing mercy that he or Uxor never got...it was in that Dalharil was powerless to hold back what was happening, just as he had been. It is not so much about seeing Uxor in Juryrig, but seeing himself in Dalharil. Uxor too for that matter when she begged for Varro.

In this way, players who may have participated first hand in the roleplaying still have somewhat of a 'treat' going back and re-reading the recap of what happened told from a different angle. It also is an effective way to summarize the story for newcomers, in order to catch up, as roleplaying plots often have long and involved histories, and that can be very intimidating to newcomers. Having a sort of 'episode recap' helps new arrivals to major story archs, and also helps them decide if they want to ask about getting involved in the existing story, rather than being completely on their own in terms of content. Many of you will find that building upon an existing scenario or scene will give you far better results than trying to make your stories utterly independent of the players/setting around you. Looking at the progression you can see how this occurs:

Mekari was the original concept from another game.
Varro was built on Mekari's story/backstory.
Endaria was created as a pair-up to Varro's story.
Uxor was introduced via Varro and Endaria.
Uxor and Varro's story runs together once Endaria leaves.
Mekari was reintroduced into the storyline through Varro and Uxor.
Amid this, factor in the character development that happened for Deriaz and Tyr, as direct result of their interactions with Varro and Uxor.


Players can build their stories upon each other. Your story is still your own, but the unpredictable influence of the other writers will always keep you pleasently surprised.

NPCS AND ROLEPLAYING

The use of the NPC characters in the stories is nothing more than a convention of adding 'life' to the roleplaying. Having minor personalities who sometimes appear in the story, but are never intended to be stand-alone characters, is an excellent way of helping the world these characters exist in to come alive. The trick is how you use them. There are at least four types of NPCs found within The Ambassadors:
- In game NPCs (Cog the barkeep)
- Those that exist only in the story, and never in game (Uxor's Master)
- NPcs based on existing in-game persona's, but who are not players (The Avatar)
- Red shirts... the nameless NPCs who exist only because we understand that they should exist in the setting (Ship's Captain, Bar patrons, party goers)

In addition, there can be 'borderline' NPCs... those that sometimes are interacted with by the players (or by your characters) in the game, but who are not meant to be played all the time. Good examples of these are Mekari, The Lord of Blades, and Septarian Mendalar. These characters reoccur in the stories, but you wouldn't find them popping up unless it was imperative to the progression of the story. Having pseudo NPCs is a way to keep the story moving, or splash in some flavor if you are between story archs, or the story you get involved with suddenly ends (a player leaves the game for example).

SYMBOLISM, MEANINGS, AND MORE

It is easy for players to act out a character. Unfortunately in a free form setting, with so many choices, players can become bogged down trying to decide what direction to take their stories in, or how to even start. For me, the story of The Ambassadors has come down to finding ways to relate my time spent in DDO in a sometimes figurative sense. While there are times that I relate the roleplaying in game very directly, many other times the story is loaded with a deeper meaning. Many times readers will have guessed how or why certain things in the story happen, but I would like to lay out the specifics to quell speculation, and maybe even bring the story in a whole new light for you.

The Ambassadors documents my progression through DDO and the community. The story of Varro and Uxor has become an allegory to my life as a player vs my life as a public DDO figure. Uxor represents a more private and sensible player existence, while Varro is a representation of the nature of event hosting, guild politics, and other more large scale mmo interaction. Ultimately the union of these two characters represents my willingness to give up a 'normal' life as a mere player, and find a balance between having fun and doing work. In another sense, despite the fact that my husband's character was Endaria, there are many times when Uxor and Varro represent my husband and myself. I being Varro (passionate and audience oriented) and my husband being Uxor (logical and reserved). This representation is not always, but can be seen many times in the interactions of Varro and Uxor in terms of when they have disertations concerning Varro being 'The Augur.'

MMOisms

There are times when things in the game work their way into the story, even though it is strictly a game mechanic. The strongest example of this is the Avatar. I needed a story way of explaining how it was that Varro received some of the gifts and items from my encounters with one of the Turbine event hosts, for I'm never one to simply leave it be. Thus the story of Varro interacting with a 'demi-god' figure, known only as The AVatar, was created. This story aspect accounts for several of my in game conventions, whether or not readers/players realize it
Telepathy: A representation of the /tell and /gu system. Additionally, the capasity for the Turbine event host to direct contact players as they saw fit was represented by the Avatar's abilily to telepath at will. Varro's subsequent 'augur' telepathy was connected to the event hosting as well, with so many players to interact with at once.
The Voice of The Augur: This was a representation of the colored speech I would use in the general chats to get the attention of my event goers.
The Augur Images/Joy of the Worlds: Each day, I was approached by players in game and out of game concerning their enjoyment of my ddo activities, their wish to request certain types of activities, their plans for rping characters or my involvement with their characters, and many other types of interaction. In game, it was more rapid, and I would often have to keep track of anywhere from three to twelve different conversations at once. Thus, the Joy of the World images that Varro experiences represents the consequences of what happens when you decide to go the route of a public figure. You are never alone with your own thoughts.
The Robe, Shield of Cyre, and Scepter: As rare in game items, and in at least one case, bound to my character... the existence of these items as an unnatural part of Varro, summoned by his will, is a representation of hotbars combined with the fact that the items are not merely a drop from a dungeon or something one purchases from a vendor.
Augur Teleporting: Represents my capasity to move around the game with teleport, as well as the out of character knowledge of what is going on when/where.

Real Life Issues

There are many other times when I have used the story to explain away a real life situation

Problem: Husband who played Endaria, Varro's wife, left game
Solution: Endaria died and can't come back from the afterlife

Problem: Going on vacation for 2 weeks
Solution: The 'disappearence' of Varro story arch

Problem: Joining Turbine, thus in-game presence no more
Solution: Varro and Uxor leave Stormreach

The final, Varro and Uxor leaving, is what I refer to as a 'write out.' Writing out a character is an option for extracting them from existing storylines. I know that for some characters, the departure of Varro and Uxor from their lives will have a significant impact, so I tried to do it in such a way as to give them some options. They can either accept the departure, or it could generate a new strife for their character. After all, losing a friend is hard, and it's bound to create some ripples of affect among the players

Careful Planning

Did You Notice...


The story of Varro and Uxor begins, and ends, with reference to a mask.
Mekari as a PnP character was a psion disguised as a field surgeon. In game, she was created as a cleric.
Varro's 'true name' is never used. We know that his name, Varro Velox, is an alias, but never once is his real name given.
Uxor's Master is never refered by any name
The name Varro is similar to 'variety' or 'varient' and Varro is chaotic neutral. The surname 'Velox' means 'swift.'
The name Uxor is latin for 'wife.' Uxor's birth name, Coralbina, means roughly 'pale woman'
Most of Varro's conversations to the Avatar begin with a question, as that's usually the only reasons I had to contact the Turbine event host in game was to ask him something
The more adult natured interaction of the characters is non descript. Readers are left to make their own assumptions about what goes on.
The final chapter is XV... X for the end and V for Varro, more or less a mild reference that this is the 'end' of Varro and Uxor's story in Stormreach.


A few quotes of characters in the story taken from exactly what was said in live chat, but used in story rewrites instead of transcripts

The Avatar: "<... for all you do for the people.>"

The Avatar: "<For me to know and you to learn.>"

The Avatar: "<You can ask.>"

Party Goer: "Your contest! That isn't fair, [they] went and trumped us all!" (in reference to the gift of the robe)

Juryrig: "If you do not cooperate, I will terminate Creature Uxor. Do you understand, Minstrel Varro Velox? Names, Locations, Associations, Descriptions, Whereabouts."

Points: "We're going to get you out of here."

"Uxor: Deriaz, what is more important, love or friendship?
Deriaz: Well...since I've not had the first, I would definately say the second.
Uxor: Jaggie?
Jaggie: Friendship. You can't have love without friendship...
Uxor: Then you will understand when I say that I cannot prevent what Varro desires, for of him, I have both.
Jaggie: Hai *she nodded in understanding*
Uxor: But pray to your gods or whatever you hold dear that Varro feels the same of me, and will see reason in my words. If you try and stop him however, I will come between you, and you will see where love and friendship fall."

Shiningeagle: "Then Varro had better change his request!"

Dalharil: "You know that it's wrong."

Tyr: "Then there is a real possibility I’m going to end up dead"

The Avatar: "With Uxor of course." (in reply to 'who wants the first dance?')

As often as I can in the stories, I may reference an interaction with a player, not necessarily by name. Examples of this can be seen in the retelling of certain large scale events (such as the comment at the beach party about the robe contest) or sometimes smaller interactions (such as the person who asks Varro how he and his wife are doing, and denotes that Varro seems 'off'). Chances are, if you have interacted directly with these characters at any point in time over the past 15 months, you have a minor cameo in the story, whether you realize it or not.

Gear

Not every roleplayer does this, but often times I have story explainations for some in-game items. There is the robe, scepter, and shield of the Augur for starters, all three of which are physical items on Varro in game. The Sirroco and book (strength tome) gifted to Uxor came in the form of party loot that I acquired on Varro, then subsequently passed to Uxor. I simply wrote in a story aspect of how Uxor acquired the items. The +4 dex ring that Varro has always worn was originally given to me by Endaria when he left the game. When Varro proposed to Uxor and wed her, I transferred the ring onto her. Uxor also has an ice rapier passed down to her from Varro. At one point, one of the players gave Uxor a collectable, a book, for her to write in. After that point, I reference her as having it in the story. Very often, I have story explainations for gear of characters, and I don't always take new gear based on it being 'better' for the character.

Leaving Stormreach

There are many levels of symbolism that players can gather from the stories. The ending will of course be one of much speculation. Some readers may view "Sharn" as being representative of Lord of the Rings Online, or another MMO, or even Turbine itself. Sharn is actually the player community as a whole. Crossing into the realm of being among the Turbine team equates to a change in the way I interact with you all. Sharn is not so much somewhere 'different' as merely a way of showing that life for Uxor, Varro, and myself, is going to be different from now on, and there is no going back. I will say that the Avatar, and the gathering that greets Uxor and Varro on the docks, does represent the Turbine team. The resolution of the story arch with Mekari was to relate my busy schedule that has in recent weeks kept me less visible, as well as me taking care of real life obligations, in order to continue my journey. For Varro to burry his mother equates to my willingness to finalize some things. I will also say that Varro and Uxor leaving the letters/packages for various characters reflects my inability to spend any quality story time with the players before my departure... but a desire to show you how much you meant to me. The journey of Varro and Uxor on ship, shortly after Sharks & Minnows and partying, leaving at dark/dawn is a direct reflection on the fact that Sharks & Minnows was the last in-game time the players saw me... gencon (the party) was the last time they saw me in person... and when I left for my venture to my new 'home' it was in the wee hours of the morning before the sun even came up. Uxor's conversation with the Avatar, her decision to go with Varro, and Varro's offering of wearing the mask, reflects my spouse's choice to endure what will come of a complete upheaval of our lives... but also my willingness to try and make that transition for him as easy as possible.

FINAL WORDS

Roleplaying can be anything that you want it to be. It can be light hearted and meaningless, or you can use it to express your inner thoughts and feelings in a very artistic way. You can put all of yourself into a character, fragment aspects of your personality into multiple ones, or create something that is entirely not yourself just to enjoy the change of pace. You can write lengthy stories, or short ones, or simply enjoy chatting with fellow players. You can include as much or as little of the setting/game as you are comfortable with. You can do it every day that you are in game, or - like me - sporatically as you feel like it. Ultimately, the true purpose of roleplaying is: to have fun.
This is what was fun for me.
Above all else, when you deal with other players and their styles of playing/roleplaying, remember this ancient saying: Matters of taste are not for dispute. That is to say, we each enjoy things on a different level, and to try and force someone to like what you do will get you nowhere. Appreciate the differences of each player and what they enjoy, and gravitate towards those who share a common style and interest with you. For my part, all of you who have helped to grow and shape The Ambassadors, you have my enduring and infinite love.

Remember that Varro, the Augur, can see those he cares about via the images of the joys of the world. You all are my joy. It is the last symbol of the story is Varro's indication that he will always be able to see those he cares about, and know what they are up to. I will always be able to watch you and admire your growth as players and roleplayers, whether or not you realize I am there or not. Continue to be the community that I so love to serve.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 9
Filling In the Holes



Deriaz sat in the corner of the main room in the house, with his hands cupped around a small reddish-orange object in his hands. He sighed, and stared down at it. Uxor had sent it to him, before she and Varro had taken off to who knows where. He had tried to reply, and give his thanks, but the postmaster had told him there was no forwarding box. The two were gone, and he had no way to thank them.

There was a tap at the window of the house he sat in out in the Cerulean Hills, and then a voice came from the door. “Hellos?” Deriaz pinned the voice instantly. Jaggie.

He glanced up from the orb, and pocketed it into the pouch on his side. He moved to the door, and opened it. He took a step to the side to allow Jaggie in. “Sorry about that, I didn’t hear you at first.”

“Heh. Hi hi,” she grinned. “I grabbed the paper work and ran before anyone could catch me. Go go haste!” She tossed off her backpack on a nearby piece of furniture. They had never used any of it, ever since they bought the house. “So? Anything on the go?”

“Heh. . . Anything on the go? What’cha mean?” Deriaz grinned.

Jaggie shrugged at him. “I don’t know. You’ve just been cooped up here. Heh.”

“I. . . Um. . . Nah, I’ve just got a bit on the mind, I guess.”

“Well. . .” Jaggie shrugged. “Anything you wish to talk about? I mean, everyone else has been talking my ears off today. Never mind the fact that I don’t actually have ears. . . But you get the picture. What’s up?”

Deriaz paused, considering saying what was on his mind. He had put her, and everyone else, through enough worry as it was. He sighed, and decided that now was the best time. “. . . If you had the chance to fill in the holes, would you?” He dug his hand into the pouch, and tossed the orb at Jaggie.

She caught it, and turned it around in her hands a few times. She spoke after a moment. “This is the stone that Mekari had, right?”

Deriaz nodded, and sat down again in the corner. “That is is. . . And I don’t know what to do with it.”

“A long time ago. . . You mentioned how you had wanted your memories from old back. . .” She rolled the orb in her hands, studying it.

Deriaz nodded again. “And I still do, but last time I ever used it. . . Before Mekari took it. . . That’s how Ragyr came around. How do I know that if I try and get my memories back again, something else won’t happen?” He cursed himself under his breath, for saying such a stupid thing to her without thinking. “I mean, if it was you. . . What would you do?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “Maybe ‘cause I lose some years too. Maybe ‘cause I still think and worry about that snake that was inside you. . . And the words that have been engraved in your arms. . .” Deriaz willed himself not to flinch at that. He knew they were still there, and the thought of them had recently begun to bug him. ‘FaiLeD ExPeriMent.’ He had no idea what it meant, and in truth, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

He sighed after a moment. “Those are my exact worries as well. I mean. . . I don’t even know if the stone is worth it. But at the same time, what if the stone does nothing to me, and explains everything? I mean. . . I could flip a coin, I guess,” he chuckled. He hated himself instantly for it. “But. . . I don’t know what to do.”

“When Serpent had taken over, he said you weren’t around in the beginning. That. . . Well. . . You just somehow took form and showed up. I don’t know how it worked, but Serpent, Ragyr, and you. . . All in one body. . . That’s a little hard to figure out for me. . .” Jaggie frowned.

“You named another fear right there. . .” Deriaz sighed. It was one that he didn’t want to think about, but the reality of it was beginning to grow on him. “I mean, if. . . IF. . . I’m an eccident of some sort of plan, or whatever. . . And I just appeared, right? . . . Well, what if I could just disappear like that?”

Jaggie whimpered at the thought of it. He didn’t blame her. He didn’t like the idea either, but he couldn’t hide from it. It was a perfect possibility, and it had almost happened a few times when Serpent had tried to retake the body.

“I don’t want to think that. . . Please, don’t think that,” she whimpered again.

Deriaz shook his head. “I didn’t want to think of it either, but it eventually came. I mean. . . If I just suddenly appeared, it isn’t impossible that I could just disappear, or my memory could by partially or completely wiped, or hell, Ragyr gets stuck inside my head again. . .” He stopped, realizing he was rambling off crazy ideas now. “Ok, that’s a bit far off there, but still. . .”

Jaggie whimpered a third time. “And what would this stone do?”

“I don’t know,” Deriaz frowned slightly. He wished he could have frowned as much as he used to, but ever since Ranux had messed up some of his emotions, frowning and things like that didn’t come as strong as they used to. “It could do any of that. Or it might not do anything. I don’t know what to do with it. I mean, the only other sure-fire way I can learn who I am is if I ask Ragyr. . . And do you think he would talk?” He already was pretty sure of the answer, but it was worth a shot to ask.

“Um. . . No idea. I could try and get something out of him, with my new rank and all, but. . .” Jaggie shrugged.

“If you want to try, go ahead. But I still don’t exactly know what to do with the stone itself,” he pointed at the stone, still in Jaggie’s hand.

“Um, well. . . Last time we tried this, you had a flaming Docent stuck to you that wouldn’t shut up and stabbed me. . .”

Deriaz nodded. “Another thing that crossed my mind,” he sighed. “I just. . . I don’t know what to do. I’ve hit a wall, and I’ve got not idea where to go next. . . I’ve considered maybe destroying it, but. . .” He shrugged.

“Send it to an artificer, or. . . I don’t know. . .” Jaggie stalled for a moment. “Do you really think it’s needed?”

“Well, it all depends,” Deriaz said after a few seconds. “Do you think you can crack Ragyr? I mean, I don’t want to give you an impossible task, especially considering your new position,” he chuckled. He hated himself again for it.

“Me? Crack Ragyr? Maybe with a mace, but. . .”

Deriaz frowned slightly. “I would prefer not to hurt him. . .”

“Same,” she grinned. “He’s a nice ‘Forged. Really, he is.”

Deriaz grinned. “I like him, too. . . Maybe it’s because he’s my brother, and even though he’s tried to kill me multiple times, I sort of have an obligation to like him. It’s up to you, though. . . You can try and crack him, if you want. . .”

“I can talk to him for you. . . I don’t mind. Maybe I can find that other ‘Forged. The one that Ragyr was friends with. . .” Deriaz knew who Jaggie was talking about. Acapella, a Bard that Ragyr had known a year ago.

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “From what I’ve picked up on that, she would instantly just say that he was a jerk for leaving her dead, or something. . . But. . . It’s up to you.”

Jaggie nodded. “I don’t know if this thing will help you, Deriaz.” She tossed the orb back to him. He caught it with his left hand, and shrugged. Carefully, he placed it back into the small pouch.

“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. . .”

“Do you think you need help?” Jaggie asked.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 9, Part II
Filling In the Holes



Deriaz shrugged again. “A little. I’ve still got that feeling that I‘m against the wall on what to do. But. . . I don’t want to make it a big deal. If you want to help me, then I won’t stop you. Hell, I’d love the help. I just don’t want a lot of people worrying about me, as they’ve done so many times in the past. . .”

“Well, then. . .” She leaned over. “What can I help you with? You got a roof over your head, friends that care about you, a guild that’ll fight for and with you and a wife that loves ya and will do anything to make your metal face smile. And, if need be, is willing to drag you off to an artificer that knows more about this then she does.”

“I don’t really know what you can do for me. . .” Deriaz hated saying it, but it was the truth. He glanced down at the pouch, and then back up at Jaggie. “I’d like to know what the gem does, though. I don’t know if it’s possible for anyone to find out without putting it in first.”

“Is it like a Docent?” she asked.

“Um. . .” It had been a long time since he had had to explain how it really worked. He remembered explaining it months ago to Uxor. He pointed up at his forehead, in the center of the ghular. There was a small indentation there. “It’s inserted up there, for some odd reason. I don’t think it’s like a Docent, cause it doesn’t talk to me or anything. . . I do remember, though, that when Ragyr and I were in the same body, when I put it in, it knocked me into almost a comatose state. He then took control. Instead of it being me that you see walking around, it was him that owned the body.”

“That doesn’t seem like a good idea to be wearing, then,” Jaggie frowned. “Specially since Ragyr isn’t linked to you anymore, right?”

Deriaz nodded. “Ragyr isn’t linked to me anymore, and Serpent is dead. . . So. . . I don’t know if it would just give me the memories and leave me in control, or if it would knock me out . . Or something worse, because it can’t “find” Rangyr or Serpent, I guess.”

“What good would that thing do you? What does it have to offer?”

“It would basically explain everything to me. It’s got all the memories of Serpent, and to a lesser extent, Ragyr. It would explain exactly how old I am, what all I’ve done, who built me, where I’m from. . .” Deriaz sighed. “But at the same time, the more good things I can name, the more bad things I can as well.”

“Do you think the good of it is worth its cons?” Jaggie asked. “Is it really that important to know these things? Or can you be happy with what you do have?”

“Um. . .” He sighed again. He hadn’t thought about it like that. The part of him that had always died to have the information had completely made him overlook the possibility of being happy with what he had. “I can be happy with what I have, sure. But I thought that maybe. . . Just maybe, it might be a little better to have the small holes filled in. But. . . At the same time, I’m happy with what I’ve got, even with the holes.” He looked up at Jaggie, and smiled.

“Heh,” she smiled back. “I have a two year gap. But mine isn’t from some other being in my head. I don’t think, if I had the option and was in your place, that I would want the holes filled in. No offense, but any memories of that snake sounds like a living nightmare.”

“If you were in my position, would you get rid of the temptation, maybe?” Deriaz pulled out the orb again. “Cause I could throw it away. . .”

“You’re talking to someone that still carries her old Flame shield about. But mine is just a shield with an old scratched up face. Yours is more. . . I don’t know, Deriaz. I really don’t,” she frowned.

“Well, so long as I have this thing, it’s going to tempt me. . .” He wrapped his fist around the orb. “It might be best to throw it away. I mean, I guess if I don’t have the memories themselves, I’ve always got a “living relative”, for lack of a better term.”

“You could always just send it to an artificer, let them figure it out,” Jaggie shrugged. “See what it can really do and then you can know if that temptation is worth following.”

“Maybe, but I don’t know if I trust, I guess you could say, a piece of me in the hands of someone else. . .” He chuckled slightly. “Though at the same time, I completely trust you with that book I gave you.”

“Heh,” Jaggie grinned. “It’s in your room, with all your swords and random things you seem to collect.”

“Well. . . I don’t know. I suppose I could just keep thinking on it. . .” He sighed, and put the orb back into the pouch.

“Could put it in the bank. . . Have it in a safe keepings account with a lock on it set for maybe a month or two down the road. Perhaps then you’ll have thought of it enough,” Jaggie shrugged.

“I don’t really trust the bank. . .” Deriaz sighed. “I’ve never put anything in there. I just think that someone might try and take it. . . That’s why I have all that random stuff in the back room.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood, even if only slightly.

Jaggie smirked in reply. “I don’t know, Deriaz. It’s your choice. And if you do try it and something goes wrong, you know I’ll carry you to hopefully someone that can help.”

“I, um. . .” He stalled. “I don’t want to put that on you, though. Having to take care of me like that. . . Should I destroy it, maybe?” A little voice in the back of his mind, the voice that wanted to know his past, was screaming at him to not consider that.

“If you feel that way. . .” Jaggie paused. “I don’t know. . .” She frowned.

Deriaz sighed, and cursed himself in the back of his mind. He hated seeing Jaggie, no less anyone, like that. He had to make a decision, he thought, and quickly. He pulled out the small orb again. “I don’t want to put you or anyone else through all the worry, again. . .”

He stared at the orb a few moments, wrapping his fist around it. His mind seemed to be at war with itself, trying to stop him or trying to make him make some sort of decision. He shut them both out of his mind, and squeezed his fist. There was a cracking sound, and a few tiny shards of glass slipped through his fingers to the ground. “. . . Better off without it. I can always beg Ragyr.” Jaggie stared, watching the glass bits fall to the ground. Deriaz wiped his hands of the glass bits, and a very small bit of reddish-orange liquid. “Sorry. . . Don’t know even why I was worrying about it.”

Jaggie continued to stare at the glass bits, and didn’t say a word. Deriaz stood up, and felt for a moment like he was awkwardly out of place. He grinned, trying to make the situation more relaxed. “Like I said, sorry. . . Heh. . . So, um. . . How’s the new position?” He chuckled, trying to relax the scene a little more.

Jaggie pulled her eye away from the shards across the floor, and gave a weak smile to Deriaz. “Hai. . . It’s been interesting. . .”


*** Later that day. . . ***

There was another knock at the door, late in the middle of the night. Deriaz, not seeing Jaggie around, went to open it. A shorter, black Warforged with red eyes stared back from him outside in the pouring rain. Ragyr.

Deriaz blinked in surprise, and ushered Ragyr in without a word. Before he could say anything, Ragyr had already moved across the room, turned to face Deriaz, and had his arms crossed. “We need to talk. . . Or, more likely, I’m being told to talk to you. . .” he sighed.

Deriaz blinked in confusion. “You. . . You’re being told to talk to me?”

A quick nod. “I told her at first to just tell you I want you to jump into a pit of rust monsters, but. . . Here I am.” His shoulders shrugged, and he dropped his hands to his side. “Take a seat, somewhere. We’ve got a lot to cover, and you’re in for a shock.”

Deriaz didn’t say a word, and sat down quickly against the wall of the room. Ragyr sighed, and opened his mouth to talk when there was another knock at the door. Jaggie poked her head in a moment later, and glanced between the two. She didn’t say a word, but moved quietly over to a corner of the room. She waved Ragyr’s stare away, and took out a few sheets of paper. Deriaz assumed it was more paperwork from the guildhall. She sat down quietly, and began to work.

Ragyr stared at her for a few moments, before shrugging. “Anyway, we’ve got a lot to cover. . . It’s been a year, has it?” Deriaz nodded. “A year to some is three to another,” Ragyr grinned. Deriaz blinked, and Ragyr’s grin faded.

“Before I get into any large details. . . I want to apologize. Some details I’ve been truthful to you with, while others. . . I’ve flat out lied to you. Or fed you fake memories. I guess I’m here to fill in the holes, or to dig up the uneven ones and fix them. . . You want me to start anywhere specific?”

Deriaz paused for a moment, trying to ready himself for whatever Ragyr was going to say. He nodded after a long pause. “Start from the beginning.”

Ragyr nodded, and sat down in a chair, one of the unused pieces of furniture in the house. His eyes glanced over at Jaggie for a second, then back at Deriaz. “It starts back on Khorvaire. . . Three years ago. . .”

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 9, Part III
Filling In the Holes



Ragyr sighed, and shook his head. “Why am I even agreeing to do this?”

“Three years ago,” he started after a moment, “on this day. . . The eleventh of Rhaan. A team involving Nevann d’Cannith, about eight other artificers, mostly younger ones, and the Halfling—Who, coincidentally, led the operation--forged us. . . Remember him? The Halfling?”

Deriaz’s mind raced back. He could still see the body vividly, hanging limply in Ragyr’s grasp. The robe was torn, with deep wounds beneath them. It was obvious Ragyr had been the one to deal the blows, as there was an R carved in the Halfling’s cheek. Deriaz closed his eyes for a second, nodded, and looked back up at Ragyr.

“Well. . . We were forged then. Three years ago. Not one, as you’ve been told by multiple people. Three. We were part of the Halfling’s grand idea. . .” He read the look on Deriaz’s face. “No, don’t ask me what his name is. Do you think I cared to remember? Anyways. . . They tested us quickly, making sure we were able to switch personalities by will, switch colors, and most importantly, shift. They discovered soon after that there was a problem with the shifting. I tell you the truth when I say that when shifting, the pain you feel every time? Don’t try and shut that out. That’s a warning to you. Be glad of it. Ignore it, and I kid you not, your limbs will fall off where they are. . . You think I’m kidding?” Deriaz shook his head.

Ragyr nodded. “Good. Glad you’re believing this, then. . . Anyway, they deactivated us for a few months after that, then. Added a few details, added the ghular, and tied a few commands into you. There are more than just the two you know. Hell, I don’t even know them all. . . I do know two of them, though, after hearing them so often. The commands were never tied to my name, so if I said, say. . . ‘Ragyr, coil’, nothing happens, right?” Deriaz tensed slightly, hearing the word ‘coil’. Nevann had used it when they first met. “Now, it’s tied to the name Serpent. Which. . . I’m going to guess, after the mishap in the split, is tied to you. . .” Ragyr shrugged. “Deriaz, coil?”

A sharp sensation pressed on the back of Deriaz’s mind. His limbs went numb, and he felt the familiar sensation of pain spread all across him as blades began to sprout and lengthen on his torso, his shoulder, and legs. His forearms broadened and thinned, forming two blades where there were once arms. Finally, the metal on his face stretched, forming what looked like a bladed helmet over him. Only his eyes were visible, as his mouth, nose, and ghular became covered. He growled in pain, and another familiar sensation came to him—He was bleeding. Every joint on his body was slowly beginning to crack open.

Ragyr frowned. “You look like him. Except the colors. Now, to turn it back, all I need to put is his name or yours in front of it. Again, mine won’t do. . . Deriaz, unravel.”

Like before, a strong pressure pushed in the back of his mind. The blades began to melt back into the plating, and he slowly began to look like his normal self. The joints continued to crack open slowly, and he growled in pain as the oil began to spill out faster. Ragyr sighed, and tossed a bottle of oil at Deriaz. “Drink it. I brought it, because I knew I was going to need to explain that.” Deriaz caught it painfully with his right hand, and drank it down quickly. The cracks mended themselves, and the pain subsided.

Ragyr continued after a moment, when Deriaz looked ready to hear more. “They woke us up about six months later. More tests. Again, the shifting wasn’t working properly. You still were cracking open when shifting in and out of that bladed form. They, the ignorant fleshlings they were, continued to push you, though. Almost lost your leg at one point, until the Halfling stepped up and stopped it. He said the cracking of the joints was a minor problem. One that would only require a few nights of private investigation to study. The younger artificers seemed to agree, but I don’t know if Nevann ever did or not. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. . .” Ragyr shrugged.

“Anyway, that’s when the lifestyle you’ve come to hear about started. A few times a week, we would go off. . . The three of us. Serpent, and Halfling, and me. We would run off to a nearby town, or sometimes sneak into a whole other country, to cause havoc. Just harmless fun, until about a year into our life. Serpent discovered the beauty of a little thing called a bounty. You kill, you get paid. He liked this idea, and we started down on this path. I tried to explain to him that the more bounties we finished and the more we caused a little chaos, the more bounties might be put on our head. But he didn’t care. And the Halfling, who favored Serpent over me for some reason, wouldn’t listen to my words. So. . . I went along with it. That’s how the twenty bounties were put on our head. Well, your head, I suppose.

“About a year and a half into our life, I met Acapella. I don’t know if you’ve met her or not. A bard, like your little friend or wife or whatever you call her, Jaggie, over there,” he motioned to Jaggie, who was still sitting quietly in the corner. “I don’t know what drew me to her, but I was. She didn’t care that I had a bit of a maniac in my head, or that I had a twisted Halfling that followed me around everywhere. We were happy for a few months, until a month before the second year of our life.

“Two bounty hunters were after us. By then, we had the whole stack of twenty bounties that lies on your head right now. Good luck with those, by the way. They aren’t the easiest crimes to clear. . . Anyways. . . They tried to smoke us out. I got away, but Acapella. . . She was caught in the flame when the roof collapsed. I don’t know if she had told me, “No matter what happens, run,” or “No matter what happens, don’t run.” It was too loud, and I couldn’t hear. . . But I ran, and I knew she was dead. I wanted to check on her, and I would have brought her back, had I known it was possible to do that. But because we had minimal forgery training, from sneaking away so many times. . . I wasn’t aware of this information. . .” Ragyr sighed, and paused for a few moments. Raindrops were beginning to hit the glass, and the sky outside was becoming cloudier.

“. . . Anyways,” Ragyr coughed, trying to move the conversation on, “that’s when my mind set into motion. I blamed her death, and the bounties, on Serpent and to a lesser extent, the Halfling. I began to hatch a plan in my mind. . . A plan to get me rid of them, so I could be my own ‘Forged, and live my own life. . .”

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 9, Part IV
Filling In the Holes



“A month later,” Ragyr continued, “I had a plan all worked out in my head. It would fit Serpent into a gem. . . A small, reddish-orange one. I would dispose of the gem as I saw fit, and then I would sneak away from the Halfling. Simple in design, hard to play out. . .

“As I was thinking, during that long month, how I could be rid of Serpent and the Halfling, I overheard two Humans talking about a place called ‘Stormreach’. One of them said it was a filthy town, with criminals abound. I figured it was the perfect place for a Warforged like me to avoid a few bounties, and start from scratch. So, we snuck into Sharn, which is located in Breland. There was a ship there, that was advertising it was going to Stormreach. The Halfling bluffed his way onto the ship, and brought me on as his Warforged, which wasn’t far from the truth. He more was my pet, but. . . Minor technicality.” Ragyr shrugged.

“So, we snuck on board. We were supposed to be part of a group of Breland soldiers, or so we had said. The available room for the merchants had filled, and soldier was the only thing we could disguise ourselves as. We took a small cabin near the bottom of the ship. This was the late evening, on the tenth of Rhaan. The ship set sail three hours before midnight.

“I explained quickly what I wanted the Halfling to do, and I showed him the orb. It was my own thought up procedure on separating the two of us. He agreed to it after pleading with him. I spread myself out across the floor, and he set to work on cutting the two of us apart. I was surprised at how smoothly it was going, to be honest. But just as I got done thinking that, there was movement outside of the cabin.

“I overheard someone outside, talking about stowaways. A Halfling and a Warforged, who said they were Breland soldiers. Someone knocked on our door a moment later, and invited himself in, seconds before the two of us were split. The fool of a Halfling just dropped what he was doing, though we were so close, and ordered me to attack. I would have gladly done it, if it wasn’t for one little problem. . .

“See,” Ragyr grinned slightly, “with the process almost complete, it was like severing someone’s head off, but only cutting halfway. You obviously have a problem, because the head can’t come off while the neck is still connected like that. The way fleshlings work, their own bodies would begin to repair that damage. It was the same with us. But. . . Something went wrong. I had a feeling in the back of my mind like something pushing its way forward. Before I knew what was going on, or before Serpent even know, I had blades covering my body, and I was on top of one of the Breland soldiers, ripping him apart.”

Ragyr frowned. “The beauty of it was, though, that it wasn’t me, nor was it Serpent. That was when you were starting to form. Wonderful, isn’t it, that your first experience is slaughtering a soldier? Anyway, I could feel your personality borrowing parts from Serpent’s mind, and mine. You stole my voice, though changed it slightly. You took Serpent’s rage, and modified it to be able to control it a little more, though not much. You took both of our ability’s to shift, our commands, and other various things.” Ragyr stared directly at Deriaz with a grim look on his face. He didn’t blink at all.

“So. . . When Serpent, or I, called you a mistake, we weren’t just insulting you. We were only stating a fact. You. . . From the severing not being completed by the Halfling, became some kind of freak accident. You borrowed abilities, you borrowed talents. . . You were like a parasite. A mistake. An unforeseen bug in the experiment. . .”

Deriaz opened his mouth to say something, but Ragyr held up a hand to stop him. “Let me finish. . . You got me started. Give me the decency to finish it.

“With some effort, I managed to steal control from you and control the body again, though not before you had murdered a few more soldiers, and a merchant. I grabbed the Halfling, and we ran to the deck. We saw the lights of Stormreach off in the distance, and dove off of the ship before the guards could fill us with crossbow bolts.

“As we swam, you continued to struggle for control. It was all I could do to stay in control, as least until we were to shore. I acted quickly, and told the Halfling to fill the gem with my own memories. I also told him to work it so that when it was inserted, I would take control again. It would knock you out, almost to an inert state, at which point Serpent could have his way with you. I also began to plant other seeds for the future. Plans on how we would fix the ‘problem’, if need be. It would be a few months long of a plan, I told him, because we would need to blend into the lifestyle of Stormreach, or. . . I remember my exact words. . . ‘Whatever the hell this new annoyance in my head is will have to. Though we can help him along.’

“It took me a long time to explain that new plan, as the waters were rough that night. Between you struggling for control like you were in the middle of a bloodlust, the Halfling riding on my back as I swam, and the water trying to drag me under, it was all I could do to keep myself from thinking we were going to die that night. You didn’t have a complete memory then, so you probably don’t remember that, but I’ll bet you remember the water and how it tried to pull us under. . .

“I fell unconscious as we reached shallow water. The Halfling moved us to the beach out in the Harbor, in an effort to hide us. As the ship we were in docked, he snuck back inside. He grabbed two possessions from the Brelands. . . A Longsword, and a Tower Shield. Upon returning, he did as I asked as well, according to the original plan in which it was impossible for me to have the body, and that I needed to be moved to a second one. He was to brand Serpent with the words ‘Failed Experiment’ on your arms. Unsure of who was even in the body anymore, he followed the orders like that.”

Ragyr shook his head. “From there, you took control when you awoke. I found myself riding in the back of your mind, only able to watch and hear what you saw and heard. Luckily, you found the nearest tavern, the Wavecrest, as I hoped you would. The Halfling was there. He had already sought out a guild for you to attempt to join, to help you blend in to the new city and your new life. Does the Crimson Nexus ring a bell?”

Deriaz’s eyes widened slightly. “You mean. . . So, the Halfling, uh, wasn’t really just trying to, um, help me out by pointing the Nexus out?” He tugged nervously at the faded red, weathered wristband on his right wrist.

Ragyr shook his head. “Of course not. It was planned from that morning that you would need to find a guild. You probably wouldn’t have found them without that Halfling pointing them out. . .

“. . . It was shortly after the tenth hour of the morning. The eleventh of Rhaan,” Ragyr sighed.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 9, Part V
Filling In the Holes



Ragyr sighed. “I guess maybe I should be wrapping this up. I’ve wasted enough time in this house,” he turned to look out the window again. The rain was becoming to come down in sheets now. A bolt of lightning flashed off in the distance, over near Stormreach.

“So. . . The Halfling showed you the poster of the Crimson Nexus, and as I had hoped, you took that idea of hoping to join them, and ran with it. What came next wasn’t what I was expecting, though.

“Remember the Kundarak nobles, the five of them that were dead drunk in the Wavecrest that day? How they were pushing you, insulting you, and you were beginning to feel uncomfortable? You could have walked away. You should have walked away. But you didn’t. Instead, you went into a fit of rage. Slaughtered two of them, didn’t you? You just had to do it, and then you blame it on me, for egging you on. The fact of the matter is, I was trying to talk sense into you.” Ragyr’s hand clamped shut into a fist, but it relaxed a moment later.

“So, you went and killed two of them, and a bounty was placed on your head. I figured I could work with that. Would just have to work with it, you know? Well, you were at least smart enough to run. Ran yourself straight down into a sewer to hide, where you found that ruddy orange mask. Had some sort of need to hide your identity, I would assume, so you wore it.

“I let the months slip by. There was really nothing I could do. It was all in the Halfling’s hands, to plant clues and lead you right into the trap. . . Remember how you started? Asking for help from that stupid Minotaur in House Kundarak, the one who rhymes? He was told to tell you to search for a small Halfling at the Ever Full Flagon—And you did. They tavern-keep there led you to the Leaky Dinghy, where you were told that a message was waiting for you, telling you to head south into the wilderness. You followed blindly, following what you thought was an abandoned trail. You didn’t see the hints. . . Broken twigs, disturbed bushes. . .

“It all led you to a small shack that the Halfling had set up, where he gave you the gem. I remember how you couldn’t help but think it was odd for him to live that far away from town. But you took the gem anyway, and went back to town. Unfortunately for me, that’s when you met up with the pale mute, and you agreed to help her. I can’t say I wasn’t pleased when she took interest in the gem, and asked you to put it in. It threw me in control, and knocked you out. . . Unfortunately, or fortunately if you want think of it that way, Serpent was unwilling to go along with my plan. So you lived.”

Ragyr walked over towards the window, and stared out of it for a few moments. The harsh sound of the rain hitting the window sounded almost like static. “You lived, and then the gem was stolen. So, I reworked my plan. I figured it wasn’t worth it to be quiet anymore. By luck, it turns out that there was a forge here in Stormreach. . . Fairly well hidden, but it was there. I told you, almost forced you, to go to it and fetch a body. The Halfling separated us correctly this time, and I repaid him in kind, to the amount ‘equal to the price of life.’ I killed him.

“From there, when we were separated, I realized that you were a fairly decent mark to take. I mean, who wouldn’t come to that conclusion, what with the eighty thousand platinum on your head? That’s why I constantly tried to kill you. You were worth a fortune. But, I constantly failed. So, more plans formed in my head. I was going to take you on a caravan trip. . . And leave you for dead out in the desert. But when you started to go silent, I knew that something was wrong. I made the connection easily to Serpent, and I knew I couldn’t just leave you out there. So, I brought you back to Stormreach.

“From there, Serpent tried to kill you. Twice. You got lucky each time. I continued trying to kill you a few more times. You got lucky each time there, as well.

“Almost everything else that’s happened. . . It’s all been planned. All the consequences have been run through. To put it simply. . . You’ve been a puppet from day one. You never had your own choice on what you wanted to do. You’ve always been following a planned trail, and you never realized it. I realize that maybe one or two choices have been your own, but. . .” Ragyr glanced over to Jaggie for a moment, and sighed.

“But the fact still remains that you’ve always had some purpose in mind. Either as a weapon, as a quick profit, or as a scapegoat. You’ve always been a puppet, and there’s no changing that.”

Ragyr stared at Deriaz for a moment. The blue Warforged could only stare back at Ragyr; his jaw was hanging slightly open in shock. For a second, a look of pity seemed to cross Ragyr’s face, but it wiped away quickly.

“I’ll just take my leave then. . .” He bowed: Something that Ragyr had never truly done without trying to mock another person. He turned, and nodded at Jaggie. “There you go. Are you happy? I talked to him. I spilled it all. It’s all out there. . . Whether he can handle it or not. . .” Ragyr shrugged, and moved to the door. Quietly, he slipped out and the mithral cape on his back seemed to crack in half and spread into two wings. A Winged Cape that he had attached a few nights before allowed him to take to the air, and he flew quickly back to Stormreach. The rain didn’t seem to bother him.

He had left Deriaz sitting in shock against the wall of the house. Deriaz’s mind was racing. His eyes slowly dropped to the floor, and the rain began to let up slightly. The harsh sound of it hitting the windows began to soften, almost to a calming rhythm.

It did nothing to comfort him.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 10
Losing Oneself



Deriaz moved through the house slowly. A few days had passed since Ragyr had explained everything, yet Deriaz still found himself troubled by what he has heard. In his hand was a sheet of paper and a writing stick. They both slipped out of his hands, and fell to the floor in the main room. He didn’t stop to pick them up, and instead he moved down the hallway, entering into one of the back rooms.

He moved to the center of it, and stared out the window on the far wall. The sun was beginning to set, giving the room an eerie red glow. He glanced down at the wooden floor. A few cracks were in the center of one of the boards. Hesitantly, Deriaz lifted his foot, and brought it down hard on the floorboard. The board shook across the span of the room, causing the shades on the window to crash down and block the sunlight. It was a lazy trick, but one Deriaz had done a few times.

Without the sunlight, a normal room would have become dark, but this back one kept the strange glow to it. Only this time, the room had different colors than just red. Among the hues that were in the room, a green, a blue, and a white glow had joined the red. Deriaz lifted his gaze to the walls, where the source of the glowing occurred.

The walls were lined with swords, maces, great crossbows, shields, and various other means of attack and defense. Some blades were sheathed in flame, a few maces were coated in acid. Two crossbows had a glow of lightning to them, and a quiver of bolts gave off a slight crackling sound, as if thunder surrounded them. There were enough weapons to fill the walls to the point where the wall itself was almost covered. Even the door behind him had a few swords and maces hanging from them.

Ragyr’s voice came floating back into his head. “. . .You’ve always had some purpose in mind. . . You’ve always been a puppet. . .” He stared at one of the swords, almost in a trance as the fire danced across the black adamantine. “. . . You never had your own choice. . .”

Deriaz raised one of his hands, and stared at it for a moment. Ragyr’s voice came back again, but it was accompanied by a second voice. “. . . A weapon. . .” It took him a moment to figure out who was the second voice, but it became obvious as the two words echoed in his mind. Serpent.

As he realized it, his memory raced back to the second time Serpent had tried to take over. It began to replay what Serpent had said, yet not all the words were understandable. Deriaz tried to shut the memory off, but it forced its way to the forefront. He staggered back slightly, as if he had taken a strike to the head.

A wave of emotion came over him, taking the form of confusion, and he thought for a moment someone was trying to enchant him. He spun around, looking for an assailant, but no one was in the house but him. The room continued to spin, even after he had stopped, and he felt the floor rush up to meet him. A few of the swords and other weaponry clattered to the ground as the room shook slightly from his weight. He heard Ragyr’s voice one more time before he blacked out. “. . . A parasite. A mistake. . .

“. . . An unforeseen bug in the experiment. . .”


* * *

Deriaz had never dreamt before, so when his vision came back, he wondered where he was. There was nothing around him: No swords, no weaponry, no house, no Cerulean Hills. He was floating—Or he thought he was—On what looked to be a square slab of stone. He stood up carefully, only to have his vision assaulted by a white flash. Serpent’s voice came rushing at him, though it sounded like it was his own voice as well. “Look at what you’ve done. Tsk. . .”

When the blinding light faded, there were people surrounding him in a half circle. He had been moved to the edge of the stone slab. He didn’t recognize most of the figures around him, but a few triggered in his mind. There were two Kundarak nobles staring coldly to his right. A small Halfling in a tattered robe stared at him with two dead eyes. Most of the other figures’ faces were featureless. Directly before him stood a bladed blue figure with red eyes. It took a moment to register who it was before he realized it was himself. “The lines are blurring, aren’t they?”

A red flash blinded him, and a rush of pain covered Deriaz’s body. When the light faded, he noticed that the blue figure before him looked normal with orange eyes. He looked down at himself, and noticed that his body had become bladed. Before he could react, an invisible force pushed him back. An orange flash assaulted his vision this time, and another rush of pain. The next thing he knew, he was back to normal, and weightless—And falling headfirst into nothing.

He looked up, or what he thought was up, and saw another stone slab coming up to meet him. He braced himself for the impact, but stopped two feet above rock. More figures began to form, and he recognized each of them this time: Jaggie, Liyra, Zoltando, Sho, Uxor, Varro, Ragyr, Lirondill, Kikyo, Sprue, Juryrig. . . Almost the whole of the Fellowship was before him, along with a few faces from the Crimson Nexus like Turen, and from Blue Line like Epox or Stompy. “Look at them. Your ‘friends’, right?”

Another red flash accompanied with pain, and he found himself bladed again. His joints were beginning to seep oil as well. The figures began to grin in an evil way, and an orange flash came to him again. “Or are they just using the puppet?”

He became normal again, but he found he couldn’t move easily from where he was suspended. He was encased in a block of water. He tried to get away in fear, but the water froze around him. Cracks slowly began to form around it, and it shattered loudly around him. He tumbled downward, but the stone slab opened up below him, allowing him to fall farther. “Can’t stop now, y’know. . .” There was a cackle, but it stopped after a moment.

He fell like this for a few moments, before another red flash came. The pain erupted around him, stronger than before. The falling sensation came to a halt, and he was suspended in midair. He glanced down at himself, and saw himself in the bladed form again. Black strings were connected to various joints though. Deriaz followed the strings upward, only to be met by the figure of Serpent holding the strings. Deriaz blinked, and the face changed to match Varro’s face. The figure’s face continued to change, cycling through almost everyone he knew. A soft chanting came to his senses, which grew louder over time. They were chanting the word ‘puppet’. Deriaz couldn’t help but feel he agreed with them, and almost felt like joining in.

An orange flash came to his vision. . .


* * *

“Just a puppet. . .”


* * *

. . . And he growled in pain as it poured over the right side of his body, only to have his vision focus again on the room he passed out in. To be more precise, his vision was focused on the floor.

He shook his head, trying to shake away the immense pain coming from his torso. He propped himself up with his left arm, and glanced down at the floor. His torso was dripping oil, and he blinked in surprise. Another wave of pain racked him, and he rolled onto his back. He raised his hands up to his face, trying to make sure that at least that was alright. . . But paused when only his left hand came into view. He turned his head slowly, trying not to trigger any more pain, and his eyes went wide at the sight of his arm lying a foot away. The livewood around his shoulder, and the shoulder area of the arm was slowly beginning to rot from being severed.

Deriaz cursed under his breath. He knew it wasn’t his fault and that. . . Whatever he had just gone through had triggered it. That fact didn’t stop the waves of pain he was feeling, and the oil that he was still losing.

“Need an artificer. . .” he groaned. He leaned over, and grabbed the severed arm carefully, as if it was delicate and would break. He stood up slowly, and wavered slightly in the wave of pain made another course over him. His eyes glanced down at the pool of oil, and the weaponry that had clattered to the ground when he fell. ‘Can’t worry about them now. . .’ he thought, and shuffled slowly back into the hallway. There was a slight oil trail behind him, but he didn’t care for once. Every joint on him was ‘bleeding’ oil, and the pain was growing stronger with every moment.

Deriaz paused for a moment, staring at the paper he had dropped earlier. On it was a list of events. The first on the list was clearly ‘Arrival at Stormreach’, though it was written in large and horridly bad handwriting. Another curse passed through Deriaz’s mouth as he stared at it. “What, is this another planned thing? That I’m going to fall apart after a year?” He knelt down, and placed the arm on the ground. Awkwardly, he scribbled out everything he had wrote, and wrote slowly in the corner the words, ‘Sorry for the mess.’

Deriaz moved to the door, and pushed it open with his weight. He stopped outside the door, and stared at the view of Stormreach. It was a long walk, and his left leg felt ready to fall off, but he had no choice.

Slowly, he began to drag his feet towards the city.

[Deriaz]

The Brothers Forged
Chapter 10, Part II
Losing Oneself



The doors to Stormreach opened slowly as Deriaz approached them from where he was walking slowly up the path. Control of his left leg was near impossible, and it dragged behind him, cutting a small trail into the rock and dirt of the road. The amount of fluid he had lost was beginning to slow him further, and as he passed the threshold of the Cerulean Hills into Stormreach, his vision started to dim.

He made it a few feet into Stormreach, enough for the guards to close the doors, when he collapsed on the ground. The pain washing over him was too much, and he couldn’t push himself to continue. He heard the alarmed yelp of a guard behind him, and footsteps rushing to his side.

“Wot do ye think happened to ‘im?” he heard a gruff voice say. He pinned it quickly to a Dwarf, but one that he didn’t know.

“Dolurrh if I know,” a higher voice said. Deriaz traced it quickly to what he believe was a female elf. “But we can’t have him lying here. Move the scrapheap to the side; we can see if anyone comes to claim him later.”

“Ye say that ever’ time someone comes through these gates as injured as this one is! I dunnae think putting him ‘to the side’ will help. We need an artificer.”

“And where do you propose we find one? This is the Harbor, remember? Maybe if we were over near the Marketplace, we could move him through the gates, and the guards on that side could help, but—“

The Dwarf cut her off. “I may know one. ‘E’s a rookie, but I dun’ think we have a choice,” he sighed. The Dwarf bellowed for more guards, and a few moments later Deriaz heard more footsteps rushing towards him. He strained his head, trying to see how large of a group was approaching, but another wave of pain racked him, and his face fell to the ground again. “We need ta move this one, and quickly. You three, take his torso. You, take that ruddy arm he’s holding.” Deriaz felt someone yank his severed arm from his grasp, but he was powerless to stop him. “And you—“

“Sir,” someone piped up, “his leg? From the look of it, there are only a few fibers holding it together.”

“Tear it off. It’ll be easier to carry him,” he heard the female Elf say coldly. A moment later, he held back a roar of pain as he felt his mostly severed leg finally disconnect completely. A large group of hands grabbed him, and heaved him a few feet into the air. As if on a death march, they began to silently parade off.

The stout Dwarf was still with them, and Deriaz heard his gruff voice again. “Anyone recognize the blue one?”

Someone spoke up. “An ambassador at one time, wasn’t he?” Another thought he had heard that Deriaz was with some golden group.

“Oh, how the ‘mighty’ have fallen,” Deriaz thought—Or he thought it was his thought. After the dream, though, he wasn’t sure anymore. He recalled Serpent saying it once. Deriaz ignored it as another memory swelling up and surfacing.

They moved through the Harbor slowly, as if dragging it out, but the guards were decent enough to try and conceal Deriaz as best they could to people with prying eyes. People still began to whisper, though; no doubt word would spread. The Dwarf led them into an inn, and down to the basement. He knocked on a door, and motioned for them to bring Deriaz in carefully and set Deriaz and his severed parts on his back on the floor.

The basement looked more like a workshop, with workbenches and tools scattered around. A young man approached the Dwarf as the group of guardsmen shuffled away. Deriaz glanced over at him, trying to make out who he was. He thought for a moment they had brought him to Nevann, but only the work clothes looked similar. Deriaz tried to make out the details of the young man’s face, but his vision was beginning to blur.

“To what do I owe this visit?” the young man asked, almost sounding scared that a group of guardsmen had just walked in, and dumped a battered Warforged on his floor.

“We’ve got a debt ta settle, remember? Jus’ fix ‘im up for me. Yeh can do that, right? I mean, yer an artificer, correct?” The Dwarf motioned at the severed arm and leg on the ground near Deriaz. “Don’ know what trouble he ran into, but he’s looking like a mighty good wreck right now.”

“Well, thanks for pointing that out,” the young man sighed. He put a pair of goggles over his eyes. “And I’m not that good. . . I’ve never dealt much with Warfor—“

The Dwarf shook his head. “Well, give it yer best shot then.”

The young man nodded. “Right. . .” He moved the severed limbs, and lined them up carefully to where they connected on Deriaz’s body. “I’m going to place you inert for a moment, alright?” He glanced down at Deriaz. “Just so you aren’t in too much pain, or you don’t feel it too much if I hurt you more.” He placed a hand on Deriaz’s chest, and closed his eyes. A soft glow began to show through the clothes—A dragonmark, most likely.

To Deriaz, the room began to spin again, and he went inert.


* * *

Deriaz snapped his eyes open after a moment. He was standing now, yet it was in a small, triangular room. He looked around, but didn’t see any noticeable doors or signs of escape. The wall to his left began to ripple like water, and a black Warforged with red eyes walked through it.

“The lines are blurring, aren’t they?” Ragyr said, almost with a grin. “You aren’t sure who’s who or what’s what any more, do you?” A wave of color washed over him, turning him blue and orange like Deriaz. The same wave washed over Deriaz, turning him into a look-alike of Ragyr.

There was another ripple, and Ranux walked through. His eyes narrowed, and he glared at Deriaz. “What are you, exactly? A weapon?” The image of Deriaz in his bladed form appeared to Ranux’s right. “A puppet?” An image of Deriaz covered in Juggernaut spikes appeared to his left. Hovering behind the image was the Lord of Blades, Nevann, and Ragyr. “Or just a toy to whoever feels like they want to play with you?” Ranux lifted an arm, and pointed at the remaining wall.

Deriaz turned to face it as it began to ripple like the last two. A familiar figure walked through it: Jaggie. Deriaz tried to say something, but found that his mouth wouldn’t respond. He took a step forward, only to have the floor give way, and he plunged downward into a pool of water.

He continued to sink for a few moments, before he finally came to a halt. His mind was racing, try to figure out how to get away from the liquid. He stopped, though, when he saw another figure walking towards him. The figure was blue, with orange eyes, and stood only six and a half feet—Deriaz, or at least how he looked months ago.

“Look at you,” his figure sighed. Deriaz felt every limb on his body freeze. He strained, trying to move something, but nothing would respond. “What exactly are you? Have you ever thought about that lately?” The shorter Deriaz placed a hand upon the larger Deriaz’s chest. The water around the two of them froze, locking the two in place. Deriaz couldn’t help but stare at the two orange eyes that stared emotionlessly back at him. “You don’t even know, do you?” The control returned to most of Deriaz’s limbs, though he found he couldn’t move his right arm, or his jaw.

“Tell me, what are you trying to accomp—“ The figure stopped talking. Deriaz blinked in surprise, and he felt his head spin again. The world around him began to fade.


* * *

“I think he’s coming around,” the young man’s voice came back to him. Deriaz’s vision slowly came back to him. He was lying on the floor of the basement again. He tried to say something, but all he could manage was a groan.

“Aye, ‘e looks better, at the least. . . I mean, his limbs are all there,” the Dwarf chuckled. “What all did you do to him?”

“Well. . . I’ve never dealt with Warforged before, so this was my first time. . . Um. . . I reconnected his limbs, obviously. But I disconnected a few strands of his webbing. I hope that as I brought him around, I reconnected those correctly. If I didn’t, it’ll probably be noticeable. A joint or two won’t respond, maybe. Nothing severe. . . I also noticed that whoever built him had him worked to respond to certain commands, but not all of them,” the artificer frowned. “So, I think that in altering his web slightly, I was able to make him more. . . Obedient to commands. Should we give it a test?”

The Dwarf shrugged. “Aye. . . I suppose. I bet that whoever owns him will be happy to know that.”

The artificer nodded in agreement. “My thoughts exactly. . .” He took a few steps back, and nodded at Deriaz. “’Forged, stand up.”

There was a slight pressure in the back of Deriaz’s mind, and he got up slowly. More to the point, his body got up slowly, though his mind was only half following along. The Dwarf chuckled again. “Aye. . . ‘Spose I should be takin’ him back to his guildhall or somethin’.”

“And am I being paid for this?” the artificer crossed his arms.

“Paid? I said ye wer payin’ off a debt. So, we’re even now,” the Dwarf grinned. The artificer only sighed. “Alright, then, Warforged,” the Dwarf said, turning to Deriaz. “Follow me. I’ll take ya back to whichever guildhall owns ya.”

Deriaz tried to speak up, but his jaw still wouldn’t function. He groaned, and tried to lift his right arm, but that wouldn’t work either. As the two stepped outside, Deriaz pointed with his left arm to the Cerulean Hills. The Dwarf took a moment to understand, but then blinked in surprise. “What, ye want ta go back out there?” Deriaz nodded. “Aye. . . I suppose when they say you beasts are loyal, they mean it. . . Wanting to jump right back into whatever attacked ye. . .”

The Dwarf led Deriaz back to the Cerulean Hills gates. The Elf was still stationed that, and he glanced sideways at Deriaz as he passed through the gate. Deriaz paid it no mind, and continued down the path. He was sure Jaggie or someone was worried about him. And if they weren’t, they were at least going to want him to clean up the mess he had made.

[Syriania]

The Tale of the Undines Sisters:

http://forums.ddo.com/showthread.php?p=1398866#post1398866

[Jaggie]

((*Clears away the dust, from this old thread.* *cough cough* woo... It's been so long since anyone thought to place there stories here. I've seen so many good tales be posted on these forums, but for some reason... no one thinks to post them here anymore.. I like these collections of stories. I think others should consider posting there own here. It's a beautiful little spot. Don't you think? Neh?.. Well.. here goes.)
((edit: Remember, please do not respond to these posts Out of Character[OOC]))


The life of a warforged

Foundry Days:

It begins simple, so basic. A mound of metal, a chop of wood, a slab of rock. Perhaps a scrap of hide... Some shiny pebbles. Simple things... And then they roll all those things together, up into a little ball, and mold it to how they see fit.
It is then that they breathe life into these little creations. Even I cannot explain how they do it, but new life does flow. It is aware, it is confused, and you take it. It becomes your child and you raise it for war.
Or you try....

House Denieth came one day, interested in your steel soldiers. Tireless war machines. A creature that shows no mercy, no remorse.
But our arms shook. Too unsteady to hold a sword and shield. They shake too much for arrows to fly true. Even such thoughts as somatic spell casting... unthinkable...
So Denieth turns away. What use have they for your toy soldiers?

Our training does not stick, and our instructors push the blame.
No one will claim responsibility.
We are faulty.
If not for the precious metals bound within us, we'd be worthless, and if those metals could be reclaimed, rather than turn to rust like all disassembled parts of warforged... we'd be scrap.

But they had spent good coin on us.
Spent so much time to mold us
Wasted it all away to train us...
And all for a war that ended before we were ready.

That was what I remembered of the foundry. Days of trainers that didn't teach. Days of long line ups as rich men and fancy houses inspected us, taking only the finest.. Only the brightest.
I remember all the times of being left alone in the darkness.
I remember it not being the life of a warforged. A life not meant for anyone.

I do remember that one day though. That day that was different than all the rest.
The sound of a fiddle, the strings of a lute, the beating of drums. Pipes, and whistles, and flutes.
What where they celebrating?
Why did it call to me?
What use have they for a 'forged who favors a life for the arts...
A life for music...

I guess we'll see
I guess we'll see

The life of a bard.

[RogueDM]

A tall pale woman, her pale silver eyes watch folks carefully, but she is always willing to lend a helping hand to those in need.

But is there something odd about her, thats she appears a bit too slender for her quiet strength, that her eyes seem more intelligent at times, as if something else shares her body, that her fingers just might be a bit longer and more slender than human fingers normally are?.. Nah, she is human, very human, isnt she?

[Mysterra]

Latania strums the last few chords of an old elvish ballad. A moment passes before the crowd around her is released from the reverie that had captured their hearts. Mugs strike tables and feet stomp the floor as several patrons call out other requests. A raised hand settles the noise to a dull roar.


"I met a young woman the other day, who I now consider to be a dear friend. When I first talked to her I could not help but notice a sadness in her eyes so deep, I felt as if I were staring into the depths of the abyss. How such a dreadful melancholy came to possess the heart of one so young is the next story that I want to tell."

Latania takes a candle carefully sets it in the middle of the table. A serving girl sets it aflame with a twig from the fireplace before moving to extinguish the other candles in the room. The flame flickers and dances, casting deep shadows on the walls. She stares into the candle for a long moment, as the room around her settles into silence.


"There are many a day when I wish that I had been born to some blissfully pampered royal life. To have all the delicacies and indulgences that life has to offer, brought to me on silver platters by adoring servants. The common masses worshipping my every thought and whim just outside my closed castle gates. Like so many others, I have a more than slightly skewed perspective on what it means to be nobility or royalty. We see the the face that they present to us, smiling and serene, seldom realising that there is a much deeper relationship between ruler and serf. I learned that day that there is a more profound story going on, hidden behind many of those closed castle gates."

Latania takes another candle from her pouch, lights it from the first and settles to the table. The shadows on the wall still flicker, but many are lessened.


"This story begins in one such kingdom. Generations ago, a young woman fought for many years to carve a place of peace and safety from a blasted, barren and demon infested wasteland. Over time, others flocked to her banner, taking up her cause. They made her a queen, the first of her line, to rule over the domain she had fought so hard to build. But the fight against the demons was neverending. Desperate for a way to make a more lasting impact on her enemies, she had a magical scepter created. With it, she could harness the light itself, to drive the demons back into the darkness, far from her home. But when dealing with demons, nothing is ever quite that simple. They learned a way to corrupt the heart of the scepter, poisoning its purpose, mutating its desire into one of hatred and revenge. As the days went by and the heart blackened, the young queen knew that something was dreadfully wrong. Unable to protect her people without the power of the scepter, she found a way to remove the heart, hiding it deep within the castle itself, sealing away its taint. Missing a key component however, the scepter lost much of its power. With the queen's hold on the demons diminished, they were once again able to regain a toehold on her kingdom. And so began a lifelong struggle to keep them at bay. Generations of daughters took up the scepter to defend their kingdom, to protect it from the horrors that lurk through more than just their nightmares. With this task they also accepted the keys to what lay beneath the castle, and the knowledge of what would happen if scepter and heart were ever reunited."

Another candle, and even more of the shadows flee from the light.


"The woman with the sad eyes is one such a daughter. Her name is Nereid Undines and like others before her, she was raised in the knowledge of what the future would hold for her. She studied the magical arts, becoming a skilled wizard, preparing to take over the role her mother had held before her. She was not prepared for the age at which this would happen. While fighting for her kingdom, the queen was struck with an illness that quickly robbed her strength. Near death she summoned her daughter and pressed the scepter into Nereid's trembling hands. Within days the queen was gone. The king, wrought with grief over the loss of his wife retreated into seclusion, seldom to be seen outside his chambers. Nereid was bereft of family, thrust into her role as queen many years too young. Despite this she shouldered the mantle of rulership proudly, seeing it as her chance to serve the kingdom that she loved. But she did this alone. Until she met a prince from another kingdom. For the first time she understood what love meant. For the first time she could look to the future and see a family around her once again. On the day of their wedding, celebrants from all over the kingdom came to express their wishes to the happy couple. The festivities went on for hours. During that time, the demons were also gathering, in numbers vastly stronger than ever before. At the culmination of the ceremony, moments before the couple were bound in union, they struck, quickly and hard, across the entire kingdom. Nereid raced out to defend her people against the intruders. Although at first she thought that she had pushed them back, it soon became apparent that her power and that of the scepter were failing against the combined masses arrayed against them. The defending forces, Nereid among them were pushed back into the castle. The young prince, her fiancee, rushed to her side. "Release the heart my love," he urged her. "Restore the scepter's full power and you will have the strength you need to fend them off forever." Blinded by love and fear of destruction, she did as he said. In the center of the castle she released the magical wards that sealed the heart away from the light, reuniting it with the scepter."

Another candle, and the room is no longer a place of shadows, but of a growing light.


"Freed of confinment, the power and taint of the heart flowed back into the scepter. For a long moment, time stood still as Nereid battled with the scepter's corrupted will. Rather than allow it to steal the life forces of those in the castle around her, she offered up her own, momentarily sating the ages old hunger that burned within the heart. Although weakened and near death, she was able to command it and with the scepter's power renewed was able to banish the demons that were rampaging across her land. Staggering back to the castle, wounded and exhausted, she stumbled into the arms of her fiancee, her true love, and her greatest betrayor. It was no effort for him to strike her down and take the scepter. Laughing, he revealed himself to be no mere man, but in truth a god, devoted to the powers of darkness. Ice cold hands of fear gripped her heart as she realised what she had done. He did not even try to stop her as she ran from his presence. He raised the scepter to the sky calling down the Veil of Darkness to blanket the land in shadow and fear, blocking the light forever. Under his rule, the demons could return to the land. Nereid fled the castle, knowing at that time that there was nothing she could do to stop him. She vowed that she would see him laid low, and the light returned to the kingdom that she served."

Latania places one last candle on the table with the others, but this time she does not light it.

"But how do you stop a god? Some would say this cannot be done, that gods are far beyond the ken and skill of we mere mortals. I say not so. There lies within each and everyone of us the potential for greatness, the stuff of legends. I saw in her eyes, beyond the sadness, a dedication to her task, and a will so strong she could move mountains, or defy a god. But she cannot do this alone. You may think that you can do nothing to help. I say not so. Even the smallest candle sheds light into the darkness. And when combined with others, " she lights the last candle, bringing even more light to the room, "can fend off the deepest of shadows. I would ask one thing from all of you as moved by this story as I was. Each day, as the sun sets and darkness falls over Xen'drik, light a candle. Place it near the window and offer a prayer to the woman who now challenges the very heart of darkness itself, to bring a new dawn to her people. Together we will light her a way home."



(The author of this story and the voice behind Latania Halfbeat, better known among the DDO community as Mysterra, offers thanks and inspirational credit for this story to Syriania, the voice behind Nereid Undines. For the rp'ers in our midst, this is one of the many tales that Latania would tell while chillin out at a tavern. If you like what you have read and want to support the story as well as make an impact on the its progression then feel free to rp that your character has heard it. .... and light a few candles of your own!)

[PaintHorseCowboy]

And all of this insanity is Legion's Fault.

[Uamhas]

And all of this insanity is Legion's Fault.
((Now that, sir, is going too far. Are you suggesting that Legion has invested their hard-earned reputation into the slightly left of center antics of actual roleplaying?))

[Jaggie]

(*post incoming.*)

[8_BitBlackmage]

Necromancer
Prologue
Unanswered Questions

Deep in some dark chamber, down below the desecrated temple to Vol an elven woman lay on a long stone slab seemingly asleep in a silk, snow white nightgown, her perfect bronze hair laid out behind her head, her hands resting upon her abdomen, but not even a single breath springs fourth. Her pale skin and unmoving form betray her, she is indeed dead. More accurately, not yet alive.

"You will draw breath again, no matter what I have to do." A tall man, an elf with jet black hair and crimson eyes walks along the edge of the stone bed, looking with great care at the woman that lay there. The stone walls shudder as they echo his voice. The shadows cast by the myriad of candles pale to his own. "Points, you can not stop me...no one can." The elf runs the back of his clawed hand down the side of the woman's face, fanging smiling to himself. "You will be happy when you see yourself, you're new body is just like the one you used to know, I left nothing amiss." The elf placed a small wooden case next to the woman, and upon opening it placed the rose it contained inside with the utmost care into woman's hair. "It won't be much longer now, I only need one more soul for you to awaken."

The elf looked across the room to a massive ritual alter, covered in hundreds and hundreds of soul gems all arranged in circles around a central empty slot. each one glittering in the flickering light of the candles. The elven man turns swiftly at the sounds of slow footsteps coming from down the passage into the chamber.

Near an army of wraiths, shadows and specters, escort an elven woman clad in shining mithral armor. The woman looks at ease surrounded by all the undead soldiers, knowing they dare not attack her, fearing the ire of their master. The emerald glare of her eyes falling on the man at the slab, her lips perking into a smirk as she nears what will most likely be her end. "Keaoden, you don't have to do this."

The elven man doesn't even acknowledge her comment, only standing straight as he stares at her with those crimson eyes full of cruel intent. "Eildre would of been the perfect one to complete her, but your power will make up for that"

The woman shook her head in defiance, her fists clenched, "Keaoden, you can still come back, you don't have to do this." her pleas fell on deaf ears as Keaoden slowly started his way across the cold stone floor of the temple's lowest chamber.

"This will be so much less painful if you do not resist." He spoke holding out a rather large khyber dragonshard. The pure black gem crackled with magic as he began to whisper his incantations.

"Dammit Keaoden, answer me! Why are you doing this? What happened to you?" Elven woman stands her ground, nearly yelling now as she waits for whatever she can out of the elf before he finishes his spell.

"I woke up" was all that came from him as he stopped not two feet from the woman with the gem in his outstretched hand. "Goodbye Auroriana I am-" and before another word is uttered from his lips his arm is severed, clean off at the shoulder by the woman who he intended to rip the soul with by a sword made of pure glacial ice.

Keaoden staggers back holding the bleeding stump where his right arm used to be, glaring at Auroriana with eyes of a demon and growling out a broken curse in infernal tongue.

Auroriana turns on one foot after her strike with the summoned sword and bolts down the passage, she needed answers, why was the once kind hearted necromancer now a corrupt half demon ripping souls from the living for a long dead woman.

"Find her, and bring her back alive! She must not be allowed to escape this temple!" Keaoden shouted out the order to the undead that stood at attention, and at his command they flew after Auroriana, intent set with the order to retrieve.

The blood that had been pouring fourth from his grave wound was black, and instead of just dripping to the ground it had started to reform his arm. "She should know by now...I cannot be killed..."

[PaintHorseCowboy]

((Now that, sir, is going too far. Are you suggesting that Legion has invested their hard-earned reputation into the slightly left of center antics of actual roleplaying?))

We did kill the butterflies....

[Robi3.0]

The rest of the trip to Tangleroot gorge was uneventful. The Head Master had only spent a day looking for Ulf. All that they had manage to find was the rope that he had left at the base of the tree when Belbe had untied him. No one outside of Belbe’s group knew or suspected anything.

With Kirshank’s map leading the way they reached Tangleroot in under a week and had been working day and night for two weeks to setup a base camp on location of the ruins the expeditions was to be exploring. Belbe had managed to talk their boss into letting Grimlore, Kirshank, and her take a day off. Her and her team hiked from base camp to the only Tavern/Inn inside the gorge right after they finished their last watch.

It was now close to Midnight and Belbe found herself sitting alone at the bar starring down that a bowl of questionable looking soup. The barkeep had called it Trotters and explained that is was made of sheep’s feet braised in cream sauce. Belbe would have preferred something else but it was the only thing the kitchen was serving at this hour. Belbe eventually finished her meal chasing every bite with a sip of wine. She paid the barkeep and went up the stairs to her room. The room was small only containing a bed, a side table which a large candle sat on and a chair. Belbe didn’t bother lighting the candle when she entered the room in stead she stood in the door way for a brief moment and let her eyes adjust to the pitch blackness of the room. She then walked over to the bed disrobed and climbed in. Belbe had spent most of her early childhood being raised by the humans at the orphanage, so she never learned the proper way to enter and elven trance. Growing up she simply got into bed and went to “sleep” like all the other girls and boys at the orphanage. She felt really good to be in an actual bed again and soon drifted off.

Grimlore eyed Belbe from the corner of the tavern as she left to go upstairs. He wondered to himself if he and Belbe where on the same page still and only briefly considered what he would have to do if they weren’t. Once Belbe vanished, Grimlore returned to his game of cards. He had only been playing a few hours and already he had won quite a large amount of money from his opponents, and from the looks of his current hand he was more then likely going to win again. ’”Well fellows I think I am going to raise only 1 gold.” With a look that was a cross between disappointment and disgust Grimlore reached into his coin purse and threw one gold piece into the pot. Grimlore’s opponents must have fell for his rouse all four of him smiled in hopes that they might finally beat the man that had been taken their gold all night. Each of them put their money in raising the ante a little as each turn moved around the table. When it became Grimlore’s turn again he was pretty pleased that the amount of gold the fools had laid down. “I think I need to call this round before it gets to rich in here for me.” Grimlore pushes a stack of gold into the middle of the table “Let’s see those hands.” Each of the four men laid their hands on the table. Grimlore cracked a tight smile when he saw that he in fact had won another hand; there wasn’t any real doubt that he wouldn’t. Grimlore in a very cavalier fashion tossed his cards down on the table giving then enough English that they curled back towards him before hitting the pile of gold in the middle of the table. “That is a pair of queens and two aces. Guess I win again.” Grimlore reached into the middle of the table with both hands and pulled all the gold to him in one swooping motion of his hands. “I think you have been cheatin’ us out of our gold all night” Grimlore stopped stacking his coins and looked up at the man that had gotten drunk enough to confront him. Grimlore’s stone cold expression could have made the dead shudder. “I am no paladin but I don’t take kindly to being called a cheat. Take a moment to think long and hard about what the next words that come out of your mouth will be.” Grimlore’s accuser lost his nerve at that moment and just turned around and walked to the bar to get himself a drink.

Grimlore smiled a big toothy grin and finished collecting up his winnings. “A wise gambler once told me you need to know when to walk away, and to know when to run. So if any of you other three think I have been cheating you. You better run. If not it is late so I am going to walk away while I am a head.” Grimlore got up and headed upstairs with his coin purse a lot heavier then it was when he had checked into the Inn earlier that day. His room was at the far end of the hall from Belbe’s and the dimly light hallway was troublesome to navigate through for Grimlore, but only a small trouble after all Grimlore occupation often lead him to dark places. Once Grimlore got to his room he threw his coin purse on the end table and lit the candle he found there. He laid his sword and other equipment on the bed, pulled a set of five playing cards out of his sleeve, Grimlore original hand, and chucked them in the trash. Before blowing the candle out for the night he moved the only other piece of furniture in the room, a chair, directly across from the door. He sat down in it and waited.

When Kirshank had gotten to the Inn he didn’t bother staying around for very long. He had used a weeks worth of pay to buy a full keg of the taverns finest ale and he planned on walking out into the wilderness and drinking himself stupid. It was almost sun down when he finally couldn’t resist the temptation to crack open the keg and help himself to its contents. He found himself a nice large moss covered rock to sit on and hoisted the keg off his should and place on the ground next to him. With a quick flip of the wrist and the help of a dagger Kirshank popped the cork out of the keg with practiced ease. Using the rock as a fulcrum Kirshank poured a large helping into a stein he had taken from the bar.

In a few massive draughts he finished off his first glass and had begun to pour himself another when a group of hobgoblin emerged from the bushes beside him. They must have been a patrol from a local tribe, because they where heavily outfitted with weapons and armor. They however didn’t seem to notice Kirshank sitting on his rock. They were focusing their attention on a Halfling that was running from them. Seeing the situation unfold; guessing what was going to happen, Kirshank from his rock pulled a throwing axe from his belt and lined up his shot carefully. He was planning on putting an end to this tomfoolery right here and now. With a mighty heave Kirshank let his axe fly. In the distance the lead Hobgoblin stopped dead in his tracks. He was utterly amazed that the prey he had just been chasing had just fell over dead in its tracks with a axe sticking out of its head that had appeared as if from nowhere.

Kirshank waited a few moments to let the hobgoblins ponder what had just happened before he called out. “Now that you guys aren’t busy would you like a drink?” The leader of the group turn starred blankly at Kirshank just now noticing him for the first time. The group of hobgoblins smiled widely at Kirshank and he returned a smile that was just as wide.
For the rest of the night Kirshank and his new friends took turns holding the keg over each as they took drinks. When they ran out of the ale Kirshank had supply the lead Hobgoblin sent an underling back to base for more “supplies”. The errand boy returned dragging two massive barrels of what the hobgoblins called ice-fire-brew, about an hour later. Kirshank used his sword to remove the top of the barrel. Kirshank took a big whiff of the liquid inside the barrel it had a dank smell like the moss of his rock, but also a slightly sweet smell. Kirshank hadn’t used a cup since his first drink and being to drunk to care, plunged his whole face into the barrel. The even though it was stored at room temperature it hit his face like a sheet of ice. Much to his disliking it sobered him up a bit. Intent on recovering the drunkenness he had just lost Kirshank took five huge swallows one right after another only stopping once he had run out of air. The potent liquor hit the back of his throat like he had just swallowed a torch. The burning only subsided when it hit his stomach. This was the best alcohol he had ever had.

When Kirshank finally came up for air each of the hobgoblins took turns dunking their faces in the barrel drinking until they too had ran out of air. This went on in this fashion until one by one each hobgoblin began to pass out. Kirshank soon found himself standing alone with the leader of the Hobgoblin patrol. Kirshank hadn’t lost a drinking contest in years and he wasn’t about to start. They each took their turn; the contents of the barrel became lower and lower. Finally they got so low that Kirshank had to practically climb into the barrel while the hobgoblin kept it from tipping over. Kirshank pulled himself out of the barrel and held it as he watched the hobgoblin climb in. He stood there waiting for his opponent to climb out, but after five minutes of not seeing the hobgoblin move Kirshank poked at him roughly. When the hobgoblin didn’t move he shook the barrel. When that did arouse his opponent, he gently tipped the barrel on its side and pulled the hobgoblin out. Kirshank had won the contest his opponent had passed out in the barrel. Kirshank stumbled off the rock in a victory march and fell next too a pile of hobgoblins at had passed out hours before.

[Robi3.0]

Grimlore was awake sitting in his chair when he heard the knob of his door jiggle. He calmly sat there twirling a dagger as he waited for the intruder to make his way in. After a minute or to the faint snap of the doors cheap lock could be heard before the door opened a crack and the dim light from the hallway flooded into the dark room. A head appeared in the door fallowed by its body. Grimlore’s visitor took a brief look around the room and stopped when he saw a man sized lump in the middle of the bed. Grimlore tucked away in darkness was completely concealed from prying eyes.

Once the first body made its way into the room three more fallowed it. When the last person entered the room Grimlore let his dagger fly passed the face of the last one in line. It stuck into the wall with a heavy thud. Grimlore lit his candle bring light to the room once more. All four of the intruders had shocked looks on their faces. “I thought I told you to run. I guess you guys weren’t smart enough to take good advice when you could.” The apparent leader of the group stepped forward. It wasn’t hard to tell that the man was obviously much shaken once he discovered that they hadn’t caught Grimlore off guard. “We have proof that you cheated now” The leader tried to talk as though he was very sure of himself. “After you left we counted the cards and found that we are missing five. You switched your hand in order to win that last round, probably been do that all night. Grimlore crossed his legs and reclined in the chair a little. His posture showed that he wasn’t scared of this band of drunks that had found a bit of fools courage at the bottom of a bottle. “So you came to get your cards back?’ Gromlore motioned to the trash can. “They are in there in you want them.” The leader with the wave of his hand brought his team forward. They were now standing shoulder to shoulder across the small room leaving Grimlore no way of escape. This was fine with Grimlore he wasn’t planning on running anyhow. “We came to get our gold back.” Grimlore shook his head as the group began to advance towards him. “You see now you have put me a terrible predicament. I can’t give you your gold back. Mainly, because I don’t want to but that is beside the point. So now you leave me only one choice. Deal with you!”
Once the group was with three feet from Grimlore he sprung into action. With one quick movement Grimlore planted his fist right between the eyes of the leader of the group. Grimlore felt more then heard the sickly snap of a nose breaking. Grimlore’s victim went down in a crumbled mass; his nose spewed blood and thick black circles already began to form around both of his eyes. The remaining three swarmed on Grimlore. He kicked one in the knee cap hard and was reward with a sharp crack and a scream of pain. Grimlore’s latest victim fell to the floor groping at his now broken leg. As the third man approached Grimlore, Grim Feinted a punch but before fallowing all the way through he ducked and side step under the man’s left arm pit and came up right behind his opponent. Grimlore then took the man by the hair on the back of the head; he then lead the man a short distance across the room and smash his head into the burning candle. The room went dark. Grim’s victim tried to scream out but was momentarily drowned in a pool of scalding wax. Grimlore pulled him up for air then threw him on the floor next to the other three.

Grimlore used the darkness to his advantage and silently circled his last opponent. The last drunk stood in the middle of the room rotating in place with his fists up ready to attack; unfortunately for him he had no idea where the next attack would come from. Grimlore crept up behind the man on all four and grabbed him by the ankles. With a swift movement, Grim jerked the drunk’s feet out from under him; he hit the hardwood planks face first. Grimore quickly crawled up his victim’s back and slammed the drunk’s face hard into the floor, knocking him out cold.

Grimlore tied each of the men up and gagged them by taking off one of their dirty socks and stuffing it in their mouth. Then he placed their belt around their mouth to insure that they wouldn’t spit out the gag. Grimlore made sure to relieve them of the rest of their gold for his trouble before leaving his room with a set of room keys he had taken from the lead drunk. The Inn keeper hadn’t bothered to label the key or the doors with numbers so Grimlore had to quietly try the key in each lock in order to find the right one. Once he did he propped the door open and made his way back to his room. One by one he dragged each of his victims across the hall to the room he had just unlocked. When he had stashed the last body in the room he shut the door locked it then broke the key off in the lock. Grimlore was now certain on one would find these four before he had made an easy get away tomorrow morning. Grimlore went back to his room shoved his equipment off his bed and crawled in.

Belbe awoke the next morning fully refreshed and completely unaware of what Grimlore had been up to last night. She dressed in her wool britches and a leather tunic, having no need to put on her armor as of yet, and went down stairs to get some breakfast. She picked the same seat she had sat in last night at the bar. She glanced around the bar only to find that it was completely empty with the exception of her and the barmaid that now approached her. Belbe gave the human girl a sleepy smile before she walk away to fill Belbe’s breakfast order. The barmaid returned a moment later with the cup of hot tea Belbe had ordered.
Belbe was sipping her tea, when a fat man with muttonchops wearing a more or less clean apron approached her holding a rolled up piece of parchment. “The name you used to register your room was Belbe. Is that your true name” Belbe eyed the fat man suspiciously. “That is my true name.” A look of relief spread across the fat mans face. “I am the owner of this establishment.” The fat man offered his free hand for Belbe to shake. Belbe sat down her tea and took the man’s hand. The Inn keeper then held out the parchment. “This arrived a week ago with the instructions to deliver it to a drow female name Belbe. As a member of the Hostelers guild I was honor bound to see that it was delivered.” The Innkeeper handed Belbe the parchment and walked away. The barmaid had brought Belbe’s food while her and the Innkeeper talked, but not wanting to interrupt her Boss’s conversation the bar maid had just set the plate on the bar next to Belbe.

Belbe broke the seal on the parchment with her fork then took a bite of the eggs she had ordered. They weren’t as bad as last nights dinner but they were still pretty bland; Belbe wiggled her fingers to cast a spell that would improve their flavor. After another bite of eggs and one of some mushmelon, Belbe unrolled the parchment and smoothed it flat with her free hand.

Belbe was overcome with joy to see that it was a letter from Falas. Her joy was short lived though. The letter was full of grave news. Beador, the dwarf that had been badly injuried during the assassination of the Coinlord, had taken a turn for the worst and had died. Falas not knowing what to do had taken the dwarf to Delera’s graveyard and buried him in an unmarked grave near a tree in the very back of the graveyard. After all trying to get some to give a dwarf covered from head to toe in unexplained burns a proper burial was not the way to keep a low profile. Belbe finished reading the rest of the letter while eating her food. The delicacy of Falas’ writing reminded Belbe of his handsome face and the sorrowful look that the elf wore most of the time; it made her yearn for his understanding and the warmth of his arms. Belbe shoveled the last two huge bites of her meal into her mouth tipped the barmaid 2 gold pieces and hurried up stairs.

Once she was in her room she quickly gathered her things, put on her armor and strapped her sword to her waist. If she was going to do this it needed to be done quickly. The more time she spent debating it in her mind the more likely it was that she would talk herself out of it. She then left her room in such a hurry that she didn’t even bother to shut her door. Two minutes later she was out of the Inn and on the road headed back to Stormreach.

Kirshank woke when the morning sun crept over the tree line and started to stab his face with rays of light. He rolled over intent on going back to sleep. The ground met with him hard; Kirshank had fallen off his rock.

He remembered where he was all of the sudden and was reminded of all the drinking that had taken place last night by the huge bubbles rolling around in his stomach. I need to get something in to soak up all this booze, he thought to himself. He began to gather his things when he noticed that the hobgoblin had taken off sometime earlier. Fine by him he never like conversation

The walk back to the tavern was a longer than it had seemed last night. He was more then ready to meet back up with his friends and head back to base camp. He was now broke and wanted to start earning gold quick. Just as he stepped out of the last tree line before the tavern, he saw Belbe exit the Inn and take off in the direction of Stormreach. Kirshank would have tried to follow her but it was very apparent by the speed she ran that magic aided her. He just shrugged and continued heading towards the inn.

[Robi3.0]

The trip back to Stormreach had been less then uneventfully. About 2 days out of Tangleroot gorge Belbe had come across a merchant caravan. She offered her service as a guard and spent the rest of the trip traveling with them. Grimlore and Kirshank had apparently not made any effort to fallow her; deep down she was glad for that.

Belbe stood outside of a very familiar door. Rain beat down on her in soaking sheets and it was bitter cold. Despite all this Belbe didn’t knock; she just stood there playing out her next actions over and over again in her mind. More unsure now, then she had ever been in her entire life, she reached up and knocked. Moments pass and the door was opened by an elf with unwashed blonde hair that always seemed to hang in his face obscuring his sorrowful eyes. Today however his hair did little to hide the look of surprise on his face.

“Belbe?” “Falas, Can I stay with you for tonight?” Belbe’s face formed into a sad puppy dog smile. Even though she was soaked to the bone with her hair matted to her head it only made her more beautiful to Falas.

Falas was completely put off guard by Belbe’s sudden reappearance he hadn’t seen or heard from her in a few months. His surprise stole the words from his mouth. The only thing he managed to do was shake his head yes and wave her inside. Once inside he regained much of his composure and was quick to offer her a warm blanket and a hot cup of tea.

Belbe quickly finished her tea; it warmed her stomach, but did little to brighten her mood. They spent a couple hour talking with each other and catching up.“I fear that I have lost myself,” Belbe said as she set her cup on a rickety wood side table. Falas looked deep into her eye. “Maybe you where always lost, and have just now found yourself.” Belbe just shrugged not really believing Falas’ viewpoint. “Lost or found, I am not really sure I want to be either one.” Falas pulled Belbe closer, and whispered in her ear, “Lost or found, I’ll love you either way.” Belbe was taken aback by Falas’ sudden confession. She had always thought the he had a thing for her and she or course had one for him. They seemed so much like opposites that she figured it would never work.

Belbe’s heart seemed to race up her throat only to get stuck half way up creating a huge lump that made it difficult for her to swallow. She turned to give Falas a kiss but was met half way by his soft lips. She wrapped her arms around him, and he did the same to her. Wet chain mail and clothes began to hit the floor; Falas whispered the word that made the room go dark.

Belbe gathered her things and dressed herself in the pitch dark. Falas lay unaware across the room. She pulled her still moist cloak on slipped her pack over one shoulder and crept to the door. She very slowly turned the knob and gently pulled the door opened. She glanced back for a long moment, taking in the last glimpse of the only person she loved with in thousands of miles from here. She turned and quietly walked out.

Once Belbe shut the door Falas rolled over and dashed to the only window in his shack. He watched Belbe once again walk into the fog of the early morning and out of his life. “Find yourself and return to me; I’ll be waiting here when you do.” Falas returned to bed and laid there staring that the ceiling and humming to himself.

[Robi3.0]

Belbe once more found herself standing in the harbor. Much like the last time she was here this was purely a business trip. She had booked herself passage on a boat heading for Sharn. It hadn’t been hard a small display of her fighting and magical prowess was all time took, though the sailors that had decided to test her wished they had just taken her word. They now sat on deck nursing their wounds, as Belbe gathered what few things she had brought with her. She quickly boarded the ship and retreated to her cabin to be alone.

The journey to Sharn had been a claim one. A steady breezed pushed the ship along at a remarkable pace and it soon entered Sharn’s harbor more then a day early. Belbe disembarked from the vessel. It had been almost two years since she had seen the city of Sharn. Its towers reaching far into the sky much like the massive forests of Xen’drik. The site of both never failed the amaze her.

She spent about an hour just wondering the city trying to get reacquainted with the place, before to long she arrived at her true destination, a large mansion in the upper reaches of the city. She stood in front of a heavy wrought iron gate as a guard walked out of the gate house to greet her. Belbe stood up straight trying to look important. “I request entrance.” The gateman looked at her and simply stated “Your kind is not welcome here.” Belbe rolled he eye and sized up the pudgy elf with her stone cold glare. Have I been gone that long? Belbe thought to herself as she pulled her arm out from under her cloak revealing a black tattoo the resembled the mark of shadow over a family crest. “You most certainly will not deny me entrance to this estate. The gateman’s jaw nearly fell off in surprise. He quickly fumbled with the lock on the gate trying as fast as he could to let Belbe in. “I am sorry miss I didn’t realize you where with the family. Belbe just blew the doorman off she was defiantly not a stranger to discrimination, and it rarely bothered her anymore.

As Belbe walked through the front door of the main house a middle aged elven women raced to greet her. Belbe’s eyes began to mist up a little at the sight and a tear ran down her cheek as the woman wrapped her in a huge embrace. “I missed you so much dear.” The elf maiden said as she squeezed Belbe even harder. Belbe now almost choking on her own tears stuttered a simple “I missed you to Mom.”
Belbe hugged her adoptive mother even tighter. Orcana d’Phiarlin and her husband had adopted Belbe many years ago when the human women that ran the orphanage Belbe lived in died before Belbe was of age. Orcana and her husband had been trying to conceive for years and had thought they were barren. They jumped at the chance to raise a child to call their own. It didn’t even matter that Belbe was Drow. They treated Belbe as their own.

[Robi3.0]

Belbe’s mom took her by the wrist and pulled her towards the parlor. “Today has to be the happiest day this house has seen in a while. It is the work for the Host that both my children have returned on the same day.” Belbe smiled slightly at the news it had been a long time since she had seen her sister.

Belbe and her mother stepped into a large room with a grand fire place on the far wall. In front of a raging fire sitting an arm chair was an elderly looking elven male. Standing in front of him but closer to the fire was a tall and slender Elven woman no more then a few year into adulthood dressed in gleaming full plate. A wide smile erupted over the younger elf’s face at the sight of Belbe. “Big sister you’re back and on the same day I finished my training. This is the best graduation present I could have gotten. Father is this you’re doing?” The elderly man looked up for the first time, apparently just now noticing his wife and the Drow he considered his firstborn. Even though he and Orcana had conceived Aliyssa a few years after they adopted Belbe. In his eyes Belbe wasn’t Drow she was his first child.

The elderly elf’s eyes brighten and he let out a soft chuckle. “This is news to me as well young one, but I will take credit it for it, if you want.” With that the old elf began to struggle to pull himself out of his arm chair. Aliyssa rushed to his side and helped him to his feet. He smiled a thank you and began to shuffle toward the back of the house. “The cook has been preparing a feast for Aliyssa’s graduation. It seems that it is going to be more special then we had originally thought.” Meldrose and Orcana exited the parlor together leaving their two children alone together for the first time in many years.

Belbe stood still from a few minutes scratching her head. She really didn’t know what to say. Alicia broke the silence with her ever chipper demeanor. “Did you find your roots over there in Xen’drik? Belbe really didn’t feel like elaborating on what she had been up to the last few years. Her family would certainly not approve. Instead she diverted the questions towards her sister. “So you’re a warrior now? Is training the only thing you have been up to since I left?” Alicia smiled. “Yup, basically now I am a fighter just like you B.” Alicia had apparently forgotten that Belbe hadn’t graduated from the academy, instead she dropout to pursue the arcane arts. “Oh one more thing,” Alicia said as she moved in closer to Belbe loosen her breast plate and pulling down her tunic exposing her neck and upper part of her chest. “I got my Dragonmark while you were gone.” Belbe eyed the purplish blue marking that started on Alicia’s throat and ran down her chest disappearing into her tunic. It resembled Belbe’s tattoo but was in fact the real thing, something that she would never have. “That is great Aliyssa. I am happy for you.” Belbe said then she began to move towards the same hall her parents had left through. “We better get presentable if we are going to attend a feast.” Aliyssa stood in place for a moment arms folded. Speak for yourself I am just fine. Belbe shot Alicia a doubting looking over her shoulder. Aliyssa lifted her arm and smelled herself. Aliyssa shrugged and followed Belbe to their old room silently conceding that she to could use a freshening up.

Belbe and Aliyssa’s folks were not only members of House Phiarlin, but also successful merchants in their own right. They had the money to give Belbe and Aliyssa their own rooms, but they were very close growing up and had insisted on sharing. Aliyssa has adored her older sister and Belbe was glade to have a little sister. Their room was anything but a simple four walls in a door. It was more like a large suite at the west end of the mansion feature a large common room a small sitting room and an adjoining master bath. As Belbe entered the room Aliyssa rushed passed her giggling as she went. “I call bathroom first!” Before Belbe could protest Aliyssa was in the bathroom and tossing pieces of armor out into the main room. Belbe didn’t care much she could wait instead she pealed off her chain mail heaping it in a pile beside her old bed. She climbed in pulling the covers over her head. Belbe drifted off into a day dream, a beautiful one where she and Falas laid in a meadow. Falas singing one of his songs her lying in his arms, she felt happier then she had ever been. She felt is though she knew who she was.

[trailjava]

Is this thread dead or has is moved to another site?

[FlaviusMaximus]

Barnabus Twizzlenits pulled his dirk from his trousers and proceeded to polish it vigorously.

"Can you please do that away from the campfire?" asked Fleance the foppish elf.

"It's got blood all over it, me boy," said Barnabus, gruffly.

"Well maybe you should think about where you're putting it" said Fleance, removing his gold locks from his face.

"Aye. Maybe I should put it in you, me boy," Barnabus growled.

"You couldn't even reach me with those short, dwarven legs of yours," said Fleance.

"Is that what you think?" asked Barnabus, letting his wash cloth drop to the ground. "Where is that Elven whistle they gave you for protection when you left the Great Tree?" asked Barnabus.

Fleance checked his neck. The whistle was gone.

"I....I..." stammered Fleance.

Barnabus held up the whistle and taunted Fleance with it.
"Roll a d20!" demanded Barnabus.

Fleance pulled his transparent green d20 from his satchel and rolled it.

"Gadhelyn be praised! A 16. I get a +4 to my initiative check for a total of 20. Beat that, fat man."

Barnabus reached into his dice bag and pulled out his famed black d20.

"No. Not that one. It's weighted. I've only seen it roll 20s. Use a legitimate die" said Fleance.

"Are you accusing me of cheating?" demanded Barnabus.

"Of course I am, you sour smelling dwarf. Use another die."

Barnabus pulled a different die out of his bag and proceeded to shake it in his hand. "This one is just as lucky." He threw the die to the ground and picked it up immediately. "Let's see..."

"Leave it on the ground, Barnabus. You can't pick it up and not let me see it."

"What? I'm just taking a closer look. It's too dark out here away from the campfire" he said inspecting the die. "It's a 20! Dwarf God of something or other be praised! For my turn, I will move to you and make a grapple check."

To be continued...