The Thelanis Anthology Thread

**Merlask** · 08-07-2007, 02:30 AM

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** · 08-07-2007, 11:19 AM

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** · 08-07-2007, 11:50 AM

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** · 08-08-2007, 09:16 AM

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** · 08-08-2007, 09:56 AM

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** · 08-09-2007, 10:59 PM

"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** · 08-11-2007, 04:47 PM

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. 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. 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

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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.

**Merlask** · 08-11-2007, 05:02 PM

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** · 08-11-2007, 05:12 PM

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** · 08-13-2007, 02:39 AM

“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** · 08-14-2007, 02:00 AM

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** · 08-20-2007, 02:19 AM

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** · 08-20-2007, 02:22 AM

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** · 08-20-2007, 02:27 AM

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** · 08-20-2007, 02:53 AM

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** · 09-11-2007, 07:54 AM

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** · 09-11-2007, 07:56 AM

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** · 09-12-2007, 07:46 AM

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** · 09-13-2007, 07:37 AM

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** · 09-14-2007, 01:44 PM

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.

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