Beyond the Games
Throughout the years Scarab has been the home of some amazing artists. Their works have immortalized some of Scarab's greatest members and memories. Take a look!
But that's not all! If you have your own artwork or know of art by other members, please email Gyst and we'll put it up right away!
Tiassa's Amazing Artwork
What could possibly be cuter than a brand new Scarab bundle of joy? We've been blessed to see several new Scarabs born into this crazy world, and this is their spotlight.
Check out these great little Scarab munchkins, or submit the happy news of your own lil' baby.
May 23, 2005:
Dolvin and Leigh had a baby boy named Alex!! He is forever known as the "Scarabfest baby" since Leigh delivered him about 48 hours before guests began arriving for the 2005 Scarabfest. And yes, it was HER idea - no evil looks, ladies!
Jarod Martin -- born April 18, 2000. Just 1 1/2 hours after getting to the hospital weighed in at 8 lbs 5 ozs.
KayLee Noelle -- born Sept 22, 2001. Water broke early with her so we had some warning but no contractions. Contractions started and she was born within 2 hours of the first one weighing 8 lbs 3 ozs.
Loren Ashley -- born May 3, 2004. Took her time to get here as the doctor broke my water before 9 am and she was not born until just before 7 pm weighing 7 lbs 11 ozs.
All were born naturally with no medication - yes that means NO epidural either.
He went reluctantly after being assured by the nurse that I was hours away from having the baby (I was 5 cm). He heads downstairs and I start watching tv. Not ten minutes go by and I notice on the fetal monitor that the baby's heart rate is dropping way below average with each contraction. I call the nurse...she checks me and says (I kid you not), "Holy sh*t you're at ten!"
Then she panicks. Starts flying around the room asking me where my husband has gone and oh my she hopes the doctor is done in surgery. I called hubby on his cell phone (he'd gotten two bites of his burger) and told him to hurry on back upstairs.
Anneliese Sloane was born at 11:26 that morning. She weighed 8 lbs even and was 19 1/2 inches long. Her nicknames are the Peanut and Thunder Chunk (no seriously...you should see this kid).
And there you have it. Though...we're hoping for another baby SCARAB sometime in the future. I mean like at least another year in the future.
Scarabfests aren't the only times Scarabs have got together in RL.
If you've had a Scarab get-together of your own, please tell us all about it!
What gifts has Scarab given you that you feel you could never repay?
I WUB JOO GUYS!!!!!!
We've seen a lot of ups, downs, and unexpected twists in the roller coaster of life. This is the place for us to record some of our most notable life changes that we've experienced during our time in Scarab. New jobs, moves, military service, graduations... they all belong here.
Bocaj graduated in May, 2005!
At the end of August 2005, less than a month after my wife and I were married, the two of us flew to China to spend a semester studying abroad. This experience went hand-in-hand with my international relations and Chinese language studies, and my wife continued her own genetics studies over the internet. Aside from the classes I took at Nanjing University, I also did a research project of my own in which I researched the local pharmaceutical industry. I visited some pharmaceutical firms and conducted several interviews to get a feel for the current market as well as prospects for the future. We have some photos of our trip online.
We even bought a little puppy who we named Heber (long story). He was so adorable, and it broke our hearts that we couldn't take him back with us to the states. At least we found the best possible home for him. Check out his pictures!
I spent two years (May 2002 - June 15) serving as a church volunteer in Taiwan. I did missionary work for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (you might know us as "Mormons"). My experiences there totally changed my life, and I am forever thankful for them. I met people there who I grew to love to a degree far deeper than I had ever loved before. Everything good in my life since that time as cone as a result of the growth and blessings I received in Taiwan.
Shortly after my return in 2004 I posted a detailed description of my experience in answer to the questions I received. Check it out, or post new questions and I'd be delighted to answer them.
Scarab has seen its share of literary masterpieces in its time. This is their spotlight, so pull up a chair and enjoy an enjoyable read... or submit your own addition!
Ack! I'm KOS!
By Anthem Dirgemaker, 11/22/99
A poem for all of you who helped take out Sir Lucan (and others who just generally didn't hit it off with a particular group).
I played my songs in newbie grounds
Not realizing that my harmful sounds
Would make you want to strike me down
Ack! I'm KOS!
The froggies used to like me a lot
Then one day me and the Shin Lord faught
I can't believe what that tangle has wraught
Ack! I'm KOS!
Being nice is the path I take
But disliking me you can not fake
When you whack on me for going near your lake
Ack! I'm KOS!!
When I must travel I use your ring
But bears they have this deathwish thing
They attack me and cause your spells to fling
Ack! I'm KOS!
The bouncer scowls and beats his chest
Proclaiming to all that he's the best
Who hasn't heard the bouncer say "I's vic..I won?"
Ack! I'm KOS!
There was a time when you didn't scowl
But then we went and took Sir Lucan out
Why didn't you just throw in the towel?
Ack! I'm KOS!
Blackrabbit's amazing writings!
Assistant Guildwench and Raid Trollop, Alliance, Whisperwind.
Frost in the highlands,
Dew on the leaves,
The love that somehow spans
all the distance between.
Born hard in the winter,
was strengthened by steel,
Heart of ice made tender
by a love now revealed.
Frost in the highlands,
Dew on the leaves,
The love that somehow spans
all the distance between.
Surrounded by sunlight
sweet music and summer,
Her lonliness eased
by the arms of her lover.
Frost in the highlands,
Dew on the leaves,
The love that somehow spans
all the distance between.
Not beast nor daemon
could impede his way
His eyes ever forward
to the coming of this day.
Likewise she danced
across a crying sea
to be bound in chains
of love and melody.
Frost in the highlands,
Dew on the leaves,
The miles cannot hinder
this love destined to be.
Song written and performed by: Borgu Bladesong
for Thorok and Illianna Wolfsong
Presented as a wedding gift to the Wolfsongs
The beautiful writings of Boudica:
Night crawlers would have been better
By Boudica, 2/12/99
Boudica winced, and tried to push back the headache that was forming as she surveyed this new world. The bright, harsh sunlight was an unfamiliar presence, unknown in the Old world from which SCARAB had left.
"Too bright..." She muttered to herself as the city lights seemed to intensify the headache. This city of the new world was huge, and strange. All around here what appeared to be other emigrants were asking questions to anyone, looking as lost, if not more, than she did.
"All I need to do is find the rest of the guild." She decided aloud as she checked her equipment. A short sword that looked like it had seen a few too many days of sparring and a strange book with unfamiliar runes inside. She buckled the sword belt on, set the book inside her backpack, and slung her back as she tried to navigate the strange city.
Unfortunately, the winding, similar streets were a dramatic change from the cities SCARAB had known. Things were confusing; her skills in tracking and pathfiding seemed to only betray her as she wandered.
She took a pathway that looked different enough to possibly lead to alandmark of some kind. Instead it led to the waterline...but the water was different. In the old world, the water was solid, untouchable and immobileas a mountain. Here it was eerily clear, and she could see the gleam of what liked gold just a few yards down.
Well, she thought, better to meet up with the others with some gold in the pocket, she decided as she walked in the water. It was a strange feeling, being immersed in water. As she approached the shiny object, she saw a tiny, helpless, curious red fish. It swam close, and then suddenly darted away. She could have sworn that unlike all the fish she had seen Ozwyn and Palin catch, this one had unusually long teeth.
It swam past the shiny spot, and around what looked like the wreck of an ancient ship. Suddenly, she saw a swarm of much, MUCH larger red fish swim toward her from around the wreck.
They moved like wolves, fast and determined. She could feel something was wrong as she drew her sword and began to back up, towards dry land. But they were too fast, and one fish the size of a large dog swam close. It opened its maw to reveal teeth the length of her forearm. She drew her sword, but the watery environment slowed her actions.
She swung the blade desperately as the rest of the school swarmed her. She cried out for help from her guildmates, and her god, but instead she choked on the water as the piranhas began to feed....
There once was a ranger called Bo,
got lost in the city, oh no....
She tripped on a stick, and cut quite the flip.
To land in her watery tomb.........
By Boudica, 3/3/99
Laughter echoes throughout the halls,
Hands clasp and welcome one and all.
Stories are told of the adventures they've faced,
sometimes expounded, but all with good grace.
Warm food and ale are served to all,
for this joyous occasion, none did fall.
Great deeds were done, one less evil to face.
For on this journey, was their test of faith.
The leaders were proud at the valor they'd shown,
but they knew that the future was yet to be known.
Many evils abound, many battles to fight
But they knew that none would stand
before guild SCARAB's will and might.
The beautiful writings of Briggs:
By Briggs Blazerose, 4/7/00
The Lord of BlazeRose Keep stood on the balcony and watched the goings on in the Keep with a sharp eye. Things had gone well during the move from South Karana to Everfrost Peaks. He had called a favor in with the wizards he knew and their combined effort had magically teleported the entire keep and it’s occupants here to Everfrost. He smiled as he thought of Arulin and Tannis sneaking into the Keep the day before just as it was teleported. They had both screamed when the cold hit them suddenly and Arulin had made it a point to gather all the extra blankets he could for their room. They both slept now, enjoying their repast from adventuring. Briggs had told them both that they only needed to ask for something and it would be taken care of. Slowly he walked back into the room Morigane had chosen for them all those years ago. Smiling, he sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand over her hair as she slept. Here was the woman who had tamed the reckless beast within him with but a kiss. Slowly he traced her face with a finger and smiled as she stirred and mumbled an “I Love You my husband” as she drifted off to sleep. He stood and walked to his study and looked over the maps and parchments. He smiled when he saw the one that had been sent to all of SCARAB. It was a simple message stating that all were welcome in BlazeRose Keep and any could seek sanctuary here at any time.
He sat slowly and suddenly smiled as he thought of Hawke and LdyHawke. They had been the last to visit before the move and had spent many days with their son and daughter-in-law. Mother and daughter had spent hours talking of spells and scrolls, while father and son had spent hours in endless combat practice, both teaching the other new techniques and stances. They had all enjoyed the small time together and he knew the time would come again soon. Without thinking he picked up his journal and walked out onto the balcony. Slowly, he sat in his favorite chair and flipped thru the pages until he stopped at one very special page and his mind wandered to that day……..
…….”Damnit Nwalka find them. Those damned Orcs cannae be allowed to live after what they did to your lady. They ambushed my sister and she lays wounded badly, their lives are forfeit to me now.”
“Aye brother you are right and we will find them they are close…listen.”
Both had stopped and suddenly the sounds of battle came to them. “Over the dune someone battles Orcs.”
They both scrambled over the dune and the sight before them enraged Briggs to the point of battlefury. With a scream in ran down the dune, his swords gleaming as the sunlight hit them The orcs had beset a elf maiden and she was fighting them off as best she could. His swords flashed and a orc fell, his head beside his body. Nwalka moved to fend off a pair who were trying to corner the lass as Briggs stepped to the main pack and snarled a challenge. “ You sons of a desert whore….face me and find sanctuary in the death which awaits you.” The orc leader snarled and spit on the ground, “Foolish barbarian who seek death and now we will send you to hell.” As one they charged and Briggs moved like lighting, his blades flashing as Nwalka and the female Ranger watched with wide eyes. The first fell with no sound as he spun to meet the next, their weapons drew his blood but he would not stop, the BattleLust had him and would only be sated by the blood of these before him. Soon there were none save for the leader and he cursed a challenge for unarmed combat. As he dropped his blades Briggs did the same and the orc was upon him. The Orc was larger but nothing would save him this day. Briggs’ hand flashed out and caught the orc in the throat and, with a savage twist his neck snapped neatly in two. He dropped the body and picked up his swords as Nwalka gaped at him. “Close yer mouth lad flies will get in.” Suddenly he felt weak and dropped to his knees in the sand as all went black.
He woke many hours later in a tent with the elf female sitting near him, her eyes never leaving his as they fluttered open. “So you live afterall, good would be a waste if you did not. My name is Kytaria Goldenbear and from what your friend told me you are Briggs Blazerose. Your friend had to leave to check on his lady and I assured him you were in good hands. We healed you as best we could but you’ve slept the last two days in healing.”
He gaped and looked at her “ Two days?” Suddenly he looked under the blanket and saw he was without clothing and his face flushed slightly. “Your friend and I undressed you to allow your body comfort.” Slowly she moved closer. “I would thank you for what you did in helping me with the orcs.”
His eyes flashed and he smiled slightly, “Nae m’lady tis I who thank you, for staying here with me during my healing time.” Slowly he drifted off, but not before catching a glimpse of her standing and removing her armor and moving towards him….
…He suddenly smiled as he felt his wife curl up in his lap and kiss him gently. “What were you thinking about m’love?” Slowly he smiled and stared into her eyes, “That I am the luckiest man in all of Norrath to have you for my wife.” That said he sat back in the chair with her in his arms and watched the sunrise over the peaks.
By Briggs Blazerose, 4/7/00
He sat in his study and smiled as she moved behind him. Her fingers deftly working away the pain in his shoulders as her soft humming filled the room with soft melody. She smiled and leaned close, speaking softly. “M’love? Shall we go riding today?” Slowly he turned his chair and pulled her onto his lap. “Aye m’love we should. It would be nice to spend some quiet time with you, away from the Keep.” Standing he carried her out of the room as her laughter filled the Keep. Slowly he walked to the stables as two squires emerged leading their horses. With a smile and a Nod he placed her in the saddle and then mounted his own steed. Suddenly her laughter increased as she spurred her mount out of the courtyard and across the drawbridge. He laughed and spurred his mount after her with a large smile on his face. As he caught her she turned and flashed him the smile, which would melt even his coldest mood. “Catch me if you can m’love.” She spurred her mount faster as they neared the forest. He chuckled and took off after her, his mount flexing under him as raw power sought to catch the mare in front of him.
Finally they neared the crystalline pool and she reared her mount to a stop. Deftly she flipped from the saddle and came to rest near the waterline. Briggs smiled as he watched her remove her armor and dive into the water. Swiftly he dismounted and joined her, his powerful legs kicking him towards her underwater. Wrapping his arms around her he surfaced and smiled as he twirled around with her in his arms. Her laughter was cut short as his lips pressed to hers in a deep soulkiss. She smiled and swatted at him, “Let me go you big oaf!” His smiles turned mischievous and he did as he was told, quickly dumping her into the water. He was swimming towards the sunning rock just as she surfaced, sputtering water and swearing. As he climbed onto the rock he felt her move next to him and wrap her arms around his neck as she sat behind him. His voice was a whisper as the words suddenly poured from his soul. “M’love, you have rekindled emotions inside me which were long dead. My soul is complete with you, were I to lose you all would end for me. I would have no reason to stay where I am. I would become incomplete.” Her soft voice silenced him as her lips touched his shoulder, “M’love I would never leave you willingly and you know that.” He nodded slowly as she moved to straddle his lap and then they loved each other for a time.
It was early evening as they both dressed and mounted their horses for the ride back to the Keep. He smiled as she rode beside him with her fingers entwined in his. She sang softly as they rode, a smile across her face as she gazed at her man. Suddenly, the world around them seemed to warp and twist. An evil voice filled the forest as they both reigned their mounts. “Ahhhh yes so young, so virile. She will do nicely.” Briggs and Kyt both leapt from their mounts as the hag stepped from the swirling mists. “So the Lord thinks he can save his lady? You suffer now with the knowledge that your lovers body will be withered away so that I may return to my beauty.” Her hands came up as Briggs moved towards her, sparks flying from them to envelope the Lord of BlazeRose Keep and bind him in place. His eyes widened in terror as the hag yanked Kyt towards her and closed her hands around her neck. As he watched Kyt’s body began to wither and collapse in on itself. His scream filled the forest as he watched his one true love seemingly dissolve before his eyes. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! By the Tribunal NO!” Suddenly his world blacked out…..
He awoke in his chambers with Fantane hovering over him. Harpax stood by the door with Khaylis and Leflair. His eyes were filled with terror as he glanced around. His voice harsh and deep, “Kyt? Where is she?” Fantane eyes told him all, “We found you both in the forest, her body was….” Her voice faded as a shadow detached itself from the corner. “Her body was destroyed by a hag. Her soul was saved and placed into a SoulStone.” The voice was rich and deep. “What are you saying K’Arnon? My love is dead? Taken from me?” The dragon/human shook his head, “No lad she is safe, but she is also different now. She thinks you will not accept her as she is. She must stay this way until we can find away to regenerate her body, which will take time. I placed her soul into a suitable shell, which I think you will agree to as she did. Now she has the powers of the magic at her command even more than she had before. She will enter if you call to her m’child.” Briggs turned to Fantane and spoke as she nodded, “M’love? You are here? Please come to me so I may see you as you are now.” Slowly the door opened and his eyes widened as he gazed upon her. “M’love? You are safe and well?” His eyes took her in as she moved towards him, his arms wrapping around her as she leapt into them. His soul knew this was his lady, even as his eyes knew the differences. He closed his eyes as she wept and began to speak………….
By Briggs Blazerose, 4/7/00
Briggs stood on the rise as his eyes searched the snowy canyon before him. “ They should be just beyond that rise on the other side of the canyon.” Slowly, he turned and looked over those behind him slowly. They had followed him out in search of the lost supply train from Halas to BlazeRose Keep. Now they were deep into the territory occupied by the Snow Orcs and still had seen nothing. He mounted his horse and nodded to the scouts and they rode on ahead. He turned and looked at his wife and smiled slightly, “M’love you should have stayed at the Keep. There was no need for you to come on this patrol.”
Her eyes flashed and she coolly spoke, “Nor was there any reason for you to come here either my husband. We go together or not as all as I’ve told you in the past. Now let us get this done and find these lost men and get back to the Keep.” Briggs laughed as he spurred his horse and followed the scouts. Behind him he heard one of the men try to whisper to his wife, “M’lady only you can speak as such to our Lord. He’d have us swimming naked in Everfrost River if we tried that.” Her high-pitched laugh made him smile as he heard her response, “Bah! He’d prefer I swim naked with him in such water.” Briggs chuckled as he heard the man begin to cough. He flashed a smile at his wife and she blew him a kiss with a sly wink, which made him shake his head and look heavenward, “Rallos Zek save me from this vile Druidess and her charms!”
All the men broke out in laughter at the look on the Lady of Blazerose Keeps face, even though it was a mock look of astonishment at her husbands’ prayer.
Suddenly Briggs brought his horse to a stop and held a hand up for the men behind him to halt as well. The scouts were returning with their faces set in grim scowls. Anmard stopped beside his lord and spoke deeply, “We found them m’lord and ye won’t like it. Those damned Orcs staked them out in the cold and hacked away at them. Most of the supplies are gone as well as the horses. We found tracks leading deeper into the bluffs and came back to see what ye wanted us to do sir.” Briggs gripped his axe hilt tight and growled deeply. His voice was a slow growl as he spoke, “I want them tracked to wherever they went then I want them killed, slowly.” He turned and spoke to 6 of the ten behind him, “You men move ahead and take what you can of the supplies back to the Keep. Take the bodies also because those men deserve a proper burial. Be careful on your way back. Morigane began to weave her spells of proctection upon the men who were staying and then turned and nodded to her husband as they and the remaining four men followed the scouts as they tracked the orc war party.
They left the horses and made their way up the small rise. Briggs smelled the cooking fires; the stagnant smell of horseflesh being boiled filled his nose. His ears heard the laughter and the deep voices of the orcs as they celebrated their ambush. He counted 15 orcs and then slid back down the rise and locked eyes with everyone as he dropped his cloak and clenched his axe’s hilt. “ We hit them fast and hard, no wounding you strike to kill or you stay here.” The men nodded and then his eyes locked with his wife’s and he smiled at the fire he saw burning within them. They all moved up the rise and then stood and charged down into the camp as Briggs’ warcry ripped the air apart. The Orcs were caught by total surprise as the party moved upon them. Steel flashed and blood flew, Morigane’s spells sent orcs to fiery deaths and the sounds of battle raged. Suddenly, Briggs heard the sound of a spell cut off in miscast and spun as a heavy set Orc slammed his wife to the ground from behind. The orc stood over her as she lay there with a smile on his face. Briggs saw blood on the club the orc held and went into a rage, he covered the distance between them in seconds and just as the orc raised the club Briggs’ fist slammed into the side of his head. Time seemed to stop as the orc staggered. His men had finished off the rest of the orcs and were seeing to the Lady of the Keep as their Lord stood between her and the remaining orc.
Briggs stood there, his breath coming in slow movements as his hands clenched the hilt of his axe until blood seeped around his fingers. His voice was steady and filled with hate as he spoke, “Tell your chieftan that I will soon come for him, wait I will tell him myself.” His axe flashed and the orcs body fell one way as his head fell the other. Slowly he turned and pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her gently. “Round up the bodies and burn them. Take what supplies we can carry and save what horses you can and then we go back to the Keep.” He mounted his horse and pulled his wife up in front of him and spurred his mount into movement.” “Lads, the lady and I will meet you back at the Keep. Nothing will bother you on your journey back. Don’t worry about us we’ll be safe and sound.” Suddenly Mori weaved and spell and the men and the equipment were gone. “ Nae worry love they are safe at the Keep. I just wanted some time alone with you” With that he kissed her again and together they rode towards home.
By Briggs Blazerose, 4/7/00
He sat at the celebration and smiled as his eyes took it all in. K’Arnon had returned and was happy with them. Leflair seemed to be of better spirits lately, mayhaps Ciara had something to do with that. Briggs smiled to himself, he watched his friends celebrate, he looked for her and saw that she was dancing with a guard with a smile on her face. This one troubled him, his feelings for her were strong but he wondered if she could feel the same. Suddenly, without a word to anyone he stood and made his way to a door in the rear of the Keep. Without a word he waves his hand and the magical enchanted lock opened, then he slipped through the door as no one noticed. He walked down to the creek, which ran behind the Keep and sat against a stump to think. His thoughts troubled him lately because he and Morigane both shared a bond which none could understand. She had been the one to support him through the dark days after he’d left Halas and he had sworn a soul oath to protect her with his own life.
He sat throwing rocks into the pool of radiant water when he suddenly heard something behind him. Moving to his feet he saw the human form of K’Arnon walking towards him. The voice was like a deep whisper as it filled the clearing, “Young Barbarian…you seem troubled. You should know that we, you and I, share certain thoughts. No,” waving his hand at the smirk on Briggs face, “ those thoughts are omitted. But we share a bond because of your Guardian.” Briggs nodded and sat as K’Arnon shifted to his more regal form. He smiled slightly at the great dragon and skipped another rock. “Come Briggs, tell me what it is that troubles you.” Briggs stared at the dragon and sighed, “What would a dragon know of mortal love?”
The dragon snorted and sighed, “Child I have watched mortal love for thousands of years. I have seen it at it’s peak and seen it at it’s downfall. No what is troubling you?” Briggs smiled and began, “Well it seems I have fallen for one as she holds my heart and she has told me I hold hers. But, I fear she will tire of me soon.” The great dragon nodded and spoke softly, “She love you lad and she will as long as she does. Love is a fickle thing that one should enjoy while you can.” Briggs nodded as the dragon shifted back. “Now I am going back to enjoy the celebration in my honor. I bid you good eve young master.”
After a time Briggs was leaning against the stump when a lithe figure darted into his vision. She had a smile on her face and her hands on her hips. “ M’love? Are you jealous? Why are you here when the celebration is in the Keep?” Briggs, caught off guard by her sudden appearance, tried to smile but couldn’t. “Tis nothing love just did not want my mood to ruin the party. The others need to relax not be worrying over a old man.” She smirked and slid into his lap, “Briggs BlazeRose, you are hardly a old man. I, myself, am far older than you are and you should understand that no matter what thoughts run through that mind of yours that I love you, and I shall no matter what.” His smile told her she had gotten through his thick skull and she smiled. “Now, m’love, hold me here with you for a time.” He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, his lips seeking hers and then finding what he sought in a kiss that made the ground beneath them slightly rumble. They loved each other well into the morning and fell asleep near the stump with her lithe form cradled in his arms.
Later that night LadyHawke smiled as she draped her cloak over them, and whispered to Hawke that they should not wake these two. Hawke smiled and agreed as she cast a Protection spell over the two sleeping forms. They walked away giggling over something Hawke had said about Barbarians and Elves together. The next morning a patrol from the Keep silently filled their water flasks from the pool and smiled at the lady and lord of BlazeRose Keep as they slept entwined together and covered with the morning dew, smiles on both their faces.
Briggs's Story
Chapter 1: The Early Years
Our story begins with a child whose parents were in flight from a god. His father had turned against this god and fell in love with the child's mother. The two decided to leave the village and seek shelter away from the gods. They left the baby with his mothers' teacher and then left the village. Shortly after this the old shaman learned that the Dragon God had caught up with them finally and had seen to their deaths.
The old shaman knew he could not raise a warrior child alone and also knew that this child deserved more than just the average warriors and such in the village. He knew a caravan would be arriving soon and that a certain human paladin, named Hawke Jymblayde and dwarf cleric, named LadyHawke Jymblayde, couple would be traveling with them. He smiled to himself and knew what he must do to insure the child's safety. When the caravan arrived he pulled the lady cleric aside and spoke with her. He knew that she and her paladin husband had dreamed of having a son and also knew that they had decided against it because of the mix in races. He told her of the child's parents and asked her to swear an oath never to tell the child because when he was old enough he would be summoned to one of great knowledge and told the facts of his past. The lady cleric did swear the oath and took the baby from the baby back to the caravan. Her husband asked her what was going on and she told him they had been asked to raise a child who's parents had been killed by a great dragon. He agreed and together they took the child back to the Keep they called home.
The child grew quickly in both body and mind under the tutelage of the ones he called mother and father. He learned of Honor, Valor and Compassion from them as well as the code of Conduct and Chivalry. He learned of the values of family and friends and allies and enemies. Soon he began to yearn to wander and both his parents knew this. They taught him as well as they could but knew that he had to venture on his own to learn valuable lessons in life. They outfitted him from the Keep armory and he promised them he'd be safe. The next morning he bid them goodbye and promised he would one day return to them. They stood arm in arm and watched their son as he left the keep on a black steed, both knowing this must be done but neither actually wanting it to happen this soon.
During his travels he joined a Knighthood, which seemed to flourish around him. He met an Elvin Ranger named Nwalka Nightwolf who quickly became his closest friend and hunting partner. These two were never far apart and often got themselves into trouble. During one of these ventures a Dwarven Paladin named Selgus Truefist. He was a drunken sot when they first met him but they learned that this was just Selgus being himself. The three spent many night drinking and telling stories. One evening while Briggs and Nwalka were hunting in the Oasis of Marr they came upon an Elvin maid who was beset by numerous Orcs. With no regard for his own safety Briggs charged among them as Nwalka took them down with his bowshots. Briggs was injured during the battle and the Elvin maiden.Kytaria, stayed with him at the camp as nwalka went for supplies. She healed him as much as she could and nursed him over the next few days. During that time Briggs told her that he had fallen in love with her and she responded likewise. They would venture with each other and with Nwalka more over the next months.
Things changed within the Knighthood over many weeks and Briggs felt the urge to move on. He was invited to become a Guardian and did so as did Kytaria. Together they were a fearsome force as they ventured, never forgetting their friends and family. She took him to meet her parents and they both approved. During their visit Briggs went out of his way to help her parents with the chores and things which needed fixing. Kytaria and Briggs moved into a Keep in the southern plains of Karana and settled in nicely. Briggs had asked Kyt to marry him and she, finally, told him yes. They planned for a certain date and location and saved them for later. Then something happened which would change them both forever. While riding in the plains they were beset upon by a hag and her minions. As her minions drove him back the hag reached out and took Kyt's essence, restoring her own for a few more years as she laughed at Briggs. As Kyt's eyes glazed over Briggs fought to be released. The minions released him as they hag disappeared in a cloud of mist. Suddenly his world turned on end and he blacked out as he cradled her body against him. When the other Guardians found him they took them both back to the Keep and watched over them. When he awoke he learned that his love's soul had been placed in the body of an Elvin druidess and that she still loved him as she had before.
The lovers spent many night learning different things about one another. She displayed her new powers of spellcasting and healing. He was amazed at her ability to learn her new powers and such. He had a room built in the keep for her to make into study room. He had a garden made for her and grew a special rose in her name and had a flag made which had a fiery rose and a misty rose entwined together upon a field of green and brown upon it. They spent a great deal of time together as he watched over her while she trained in the wilds of Karana and other parts of Norrath. His love for her grew even more during these times and he knew that he had found his soulmate and that no other could ever take him from her. One afternoon he even went as far as to have a smith make a special branding iron, in the shape of a Fiery Rose and a Misty Rose entwined together with B.B. over the fiery rose and M.M. over the misty rose and had the smith stoke the brand to the burning point and then place it on Briggs' left shoulder. He clenched his teeth to stifle the pain and knew it was worth it. This one woman held his heart and soul in her tiny hands and could command him to do her bidding at anytime. She was the one who held his fate and destiny in her hands.
Soon after this things went bad for the Guardians and Briggs and Morigane/Kytaria moved on alone for a time. They became members of a wandering Legion and spent time helping those who weren't as well trained as they were. Their love for one another grew and they were married in a small tunnel in East Karana as the wind whistled around them. It was the happiest day of his life as she took his hand in marriage and he swore his love for her alone. Many of their family and friends attended the ceremony but he was saddened that his parents could not make it in time. The two of them spent their honeymoon together adventuring all over Norrath. The Legion seemed to be the place for them and yet suddenly dissention rose and split the Legion. The two of them took no sides until they were finally forced to leave and then they sided with each other. They left many friends when they left the Legion but they knew that true friends would be there for them as they would be there for those friends.
He made contact with his parents and asked if he could come home and bring his new bride as well. They both told him he should do just that and after traveling for many days they arrived at the Keep of Guild Scarab. They were both accepted into the order and began their status as recruits. Over the time they spent as recruits they grew to know and love many of their new family. Their family could also see they love, which Briggs held for Morigane, as well as the love he held for his family. He was soon accepted as a regular member of the Family as was his wife and they both pledged their love for the family again. They still spent many days adventuring together but were always able to lend a hand of needed. He watched his family grow more and more over the weeks and he formed many new friendships over that time. He had Blazerose Keep moved from the plains of Southern Karana to the snowy peaks of his homelands just because his wife wished it. His love for her was undying even to this day and he would love her and his family for all time. He had found his true home and would never leave them for anything. The son of Hawke and LadyHawke had learned valuable lessons in his travels and was a better man for them.
Soon after rejoining his family he was summoned to the Lair of the great dragon Lord Nagafen. During his visit he was told of his true parents and his heritage. He soaked all this in and listened to more as the dragon spoke to him. Here stood the beast, which everyone sought to kill over and over, and yet he didn't even raise a claw to harm Briggs. He knew the dragon spoke the truth for the pendant he wore around his neck shone with a sapphire glow. Visions of his true parents life together and how they met flashed thru his mind. Soon he saw how they died and tears came to his eyes, the dragon saw this and understood. He told Briggs that he held special powers and they would be needed when the time came. He also told him that any children he and his wife had would be as normal as anyone else's, he assured Briggs of this and also told him that he would see visions from his parents now and then in the form of dreams. After the visit he went to his wife and told her what he had learned and she smiled at him as they rode, arm in arm, back to the Keep. His family soon learned of his visit to the dragon and they still accepted him as they had when he first came back to them. And to this day he remains faithful to both his wife and his family. And that is something which will never change.
Chapter 2: The Soul Search
He sat in his study, his hand rubbing his shoulder as his mind contemplated the task set before him. He had failed in a promise to watch over his sister in her time of need and that now weighed heavily upon his heart. She had fallen to the vile one's who sought her for their evil purpose. Now, to make amends, he would be accepting the task of a quest for her return to those among the Legion. He stood slowly and moved to the old chest in the corner of the study. Opening it he smiled as he reached inside and pulled forth his battle worn questing armor. Smiling, he slid the armor on and then moved back into the bedroom to watch his new wife as she slept. He would miss her most of all but that could not be helped. He owed his sister an Honor Debt and he was bound by his own life to repay that. He moved to her side and knelt by the bed. Gently he moved his hand over her hair and brushed his lips against hers. She moved in her sleep and he smiled at her mumbled, "I love you my husband." Slowly he lay the newest addition to their garden, a fabled "MystRose", near her head and quietly left the room. The parchment he had left on her brushing table would explain all.
Moving quietly down the hall he stopped suddenly as a shadow detached itself from the wall. "Now brother.. you think I would let you partake of this quest alone?" He smiled slightly and nodded. "Bane, you have nae choice lad. I know we go back ages but this I must face alone. But I trust you with the charge of watching over my wife and my Keep while I am gone. I trust ye will keep them both from harm." His eyes flashed as he watched his old friend move towards him. "Aye brother you know I will take care of them and protect them until my final breath. But you will nae go alone on this and that tis that." Without warning Briggs' hand came up and a solid right left Bane slumped against the wall. Grimacing he knelt beside his brother and apologized. "Brother know I did nae mean to hit you this way but I walk alone on this for the gods have seen fit to give me one chance to make amends and I cannot be given help. Rest until I am gone and then wake." Quickly he moved down the hall and outside into the courtyard. Crossing the yard he smiled to the captain of the guard who raised his hand in a farewell salute. He made his way into the stables and found his trusted steed. The stableboy had him saddled and had everything packed for the trip. Briggs swung his axe into the saddle scabbard and then swung up into the saddle. With a nod he motioned the horse into movement and rode out of the gate.
Turning south by southeast he rode towards the swamps and the Seeress which he had been told to speak with. His ride seemed to take ages until he finally reached the edges of the swamp. To look upon the difference between the lands was as if looking upon night and day. The lands surrounding the swamps were thriving and full of life, while the swamp seemed desolate and dank. He slowly dismounted and slid his axe into the holder across his broad shoulders and smiled as it clicked into place. He turned to the steed and smiled as he scratched its ears. "I'll be fine boy, you wait here for me." With that, he turned and walked onto the path that seemed to lead directly into the heart of the swamp. Briggs knew this was false and smiled because the Seeress was always changing her home to suit her moods. Today she must have been in a pleasant mood because no golems or elementals moved to block his path. The trail seemed to twist in every imaginable way before he finally saw the small hut he had built with his own hands.
Moving slowly he raised his hands in a gesture of peace as his voice called out, "Mythra? Wise one tis I. May I approach your dwelling?" He stopped exactly 7 feet from the door to the hut, he knew the dangers that lay in wait for a unsuspecting or unwanted visitor. A soft voice filled the area and he smiled, "Come forth childe, my eyes have not seen you in what seemed like ages." As he approached and opened the door he smiled as the memories came back. It had been exactly 5 years to the day that he had found her wandering the swamps. He had befriended her and had built this dwelling for her as per her request. He had even given her these swamps to do with as she wished. Mythra was a friend and trusted advisor. She had asked for nothing save these things but he made sure she was taken care of. Stepping inside his smile broadened as he saw her sitting in her rocker, which he had made for her. He moved by her side and knelt, his eyes never leaving hers. Her hand came up and touched his chin and then his hair, "You have grown since I last saw you and you have married as well. You have made a wise choice in a wife. She loves you with all that she is and yet you seem sullen at times. Both of your Lifestreams are joined now childe, nothing can change that. Now, come, sit and tell old Mythra why you are here."
Slowly he moved and sat beside her and began to tell her of the Honor Debt. She nodded a few times and smiled finally. "You seek the Cloak of Souls and the Shard of Time. Those and those alone will return what you seek. I will mark on your map where both lay and it will be up to you to recover them. But know this, the quest you take on is not easy. Many have died trying to find these items. You will face much hardship and mayhaps even death itself to acquire them. But should you succeed, you will have all you need to return the lost soul to the body, which is conserved in your Keep." Slowly he watched as she scrawled across locations on his map and he noted them in his mind in case it was lost. Slowly he leaned down and kissed her cheek then stood as she waved her hands at him. " Stop that. You always do that and you know how I hate those infernal whiskers!"
With a smile she laid her hand upon his cheek and he felt magical energies surge through his body. Her words seemed to touch his soul," Childe, always remember that love conquers all and that many here care for you and love you. Your own love for your lost sister will guide you to her and aid you in her return. When you think all is for naught remember those words and you will persevere." With that she snapped her fingers and he suddenly found himself standing in front of his horse with his hand upon its mane. Throwing his head back in a laugh he mounted the horse and motioned it toward the east and the first area he had to search....
The old man spurred his mount and smiled as he saw the cave entrance. Slowly he dismounted and checked the battle-axe, making sure it was secure on his back. He then slapped the horse on the rear and sent it back down the slope. He turned and stared into the entrance of the cave, now and then a burst of heat and smoke would pour forth from this dark place and the air around him would crackle with heat. He checked his remaining items carefully and then stepped into the darkness of the cave. His eyes adjusted to the soft glow of the greater light stone he carried and he slowly made he way deeper into the cave.
Slowly, he made his way along the base of the cave entrance. He could feel the evil permeate his very being the closer he came to entering the cave. As he entered the cave his mind was filled with visions of hate and chaos, "NO! You will NOT stop me from completing this task! I will have the Cloak and I WILL rescue my sister." Gritting his teeth he drew the mighty axe from across his shoulders and moved deeper into the cave. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could make out the scraps of something's last meal and could hear a low rumbling sound coming from all around him. Carefully he stepped around the bones as he sought to find the source of the breathing. As he rounded the corner he came to a stop and smiled as his eyes took in the sight before him. A WyrmBeast lay coiled around a chest, behind the beast was a door and he knew then that he would have to fight this beast to obtain entrance to the depths of this ancient dwelling. As he moved closer the great beast rose up onto it's haunches and glared at him, "Who is the fool who dares to blatantly enter the dwelling of Immolatian? Who seeks death in such a way?" The voice filled him with a sudden fear of doom and he cringed slightly. He knew this was a trick the great Wyrms used to freeze their prey and he gritted his teeth to shove the fear away. " I, Briggs BlazeRose, dare m'lord. I dare to enter your dwelling for the sake of an honor debt. If you must keep me from this then relax thy spells and let us fight as honorable beings. Axe against claw and tooth. Honor against honor. For on this day I seek to acquire the Cloak of Souls." The Wyrms laughter rumbled around him so the very cave shook. Dust rained down as the great one stretched to his full height. His wings flowing around him as he dropped closer to the human who dared enter his home without invitation. "You seek the Cloak? Why do ye seek the cloak? Are you mad? Did you not see the bones of those who have come before you? Do you not think that, in an instant I can do the same to you as was done to them?" Briggs stood fast and smiled slightly, "M'lord I seek the cloak out of love for one who has been both a friend and sister to me. No I am nae mad and yes I saw those bones. But, I am nae them. I WILL finish this quest and I WILL return my sister to us. Mythra has told me of this and it will be done."
The great beast froze for just a second, "Mythra? You know of the ancient one? You have seen her?" Briggs was confused for a moment and slowly arched an eyebrow as the realization hit him. "Mythra is a dear friend to me. She resides on a dwelling near BlazeRose Keep. I now realize why she seeks seclusion and will only speak to me after a summons. Who is she to you?" The great wyrm reared his head and let loose with laughter, which would drive a normal man mad. "Mythra was my lover for a time and yes, your thoughts are correct. She IS a Wyrm, ancient even to those of us who have been here for millenia. Has she marked you yet? Do you bear the symbol of the wyrm?" Slowly Briggs threw his cape aside and turned his back to Immolatian. He drew open his tunic so the beast could see the mark upon his shoulder. "Aye, you do bear the mark, but you also bear the blood. As the childe of Draokkan you are welcome here. You bear the blood of one of the greatest of my race." Briggs adjusted his armor back into place and arched an eyebrow. "The blood of your race? M'lord I think you are mistaken. I am but a Barbarian not a Wyrm's childe." Slowly Immolatian lowered his head closer to Briggs' and stared into his eyes. "You do not know yet and it is not for me to tell you. Seek your mother in your dreams and ask her for the truth. But you may enter the doorway. But, know this, once you enter the door there is something far worse than you can imagine waiting for any that seek the cloak. Only those who have a greater purpose may obtain it."
Briggs slowly moved to the door and pushed it open as Immolatian watched him. He entered the doorway and moved down the long hallway. As he walked his mind filled with images of the dead and of deeds even he could barely stomach. He knew that this was only a game something was playing with him to keep him from the cloak. Slowly he came to another door and stopped. He opened the door and instantly ducked as the large axe buried itself in the wood. Spinning he saw the biggest man he'd ever laid eyes on step out of the shadows. "You are a fool to come here BlazeRose. The shadow sends his regards and wanted me to tell you that the taste of your sisters soul is divine." A growl like that the great wyrm had loosened filled the hall as Briggs pulled his own axe free. His hands gripped the hilt of the Executioners Axe and a smile of sheer madness sent the mercenary back a few steps. "The shadow sends you? Then I will send YOU back to him with a message." They squared off and each man moved around the other. Axes whistled through the air and steel met steel. Sparks filled the hall and the scents of battle filled the air. They came together again and Briggs felt a sharp pain in his side. He looked down and saw the dagger that the other man had stabbed him with. Growling he suddenly swung his axe in a wide arch. Recognition filled the eyes of the Shadow's man as his own axe was split asunder and the blade of the barbarians' axe cleaved his chest in two. Briggs yanked the axe free and moved. He swung again and this time the man's head bounced off the hallway floor. Slowly he pulled the dagger free and threw it down the hall. He wrapped his side with a bandage after applying a healing ointment and kept pressure on the bandage as he opened the door.
Stepping in he noticed it was made up as a lady's bedchamber. Slowly his eyes took in every detail and he realized that this was what his own mothers' room had looked like. He recognized all the things she that she had placed in her room. He finally saw the cloak and as he touched it a voice filled his mind. "Careful my son, for the use of the Cloak of Souls comes with a high price. A price even you may not wish to pay. " He gripped the cloak and pulled it off the hook. " Mother, I would gladly pay any price for my sister to be back amongst us. Even the price of my own soul." Suddenly he felt a divine wind blow through him and his body tingled with raw power. He wrapped the cloak and placed it in his backpack and then moved to the door. As he stepped through the door a searing pain filled his mind, gritting his teeth he moved through the doorway and suddenly found himself in front of his horse.
Turning he saw that they were on a grassy hill near Ebon Keep. He could see the spires of BlazeRose Keep off to the southwest and suddenly yearned for home. He swung up onto the steed and rode down the hill and into Ebon Keep. He could tell that most of the Legion was already out and gone adventuring as he slid down from the saddle and a stablehand took the reigns. "Lad have him fed and watered and brushed. I leave for BlazeRose Keep as soon as I can." The young man nodded and moved away with the horse. Slowly Briggs made his way into the dining area and slumped into a chair as his side began to burn again. The laughter of his niece made him smile as she came around the chair. "Uncle Briggs look what I..." her voice caught in her throat as she saw him. He arched an eyebrow as smiled at her, "What is it lass?" She cringed as she saw the wound on his side and then knelt beside the chair. "Uncle you are hurt and I will fix it." Slowly her tiny hands moved over the wound and he could feel her magic at work. He could feel the flesh and muscle mending, the tissue regenerating. Slowly she moved to sit across from him as his breathing slowed. "Uncle I know you have obtained the cloak you were after for my mother but I have something that I was given and told to give you." She rummaged through her backpack and smiled as she pulled an object out. Slowly she unwrapped it and Briggs eyes opened in shock. "Lass? Where did you get this?" Her eyes danced with happiness as she handed it to him. "I was venturing in a forest when I came upon a Unicorn. She was trapped in a snare and I helped to set her free. She said she knew of your quest and that she was in search of you. She touched me with her horn and said I would be the messenger and bearer of the gift because her leg would slow her. I helped to heal her and she gave me this to give to you. Have I done well uncle?" A smile that would melt even the vilest evil played across his face as he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her cheek. "Aye Lobbu, you have found the Shard of Time. You have saved your Mother. With the Shard and the Cloak I can obtain access to the Shadow Realm and bring her soul home to us. I must rest for a time now, to gather my strength for the next journey will tax me past even my known limits. Find your uncle Zyac and tell him to bring the Necromancers. In three days I will gather them and we will begin the final journey." Quickly Lobbu kissed his bearded cheek and dashed off in search of Zyac. As he watched her he smiled for she had much of her mother in her. He closed his eyes as he felt his wife's arms wrap around him and felt her body slide onto his lap. Her healing energies filled him and he smiled. "How long have you been here m'love?" Her voice was like a melody, "Since I saw you on the hill. Don't you just love my new camouflage?" His laughter filled the room as he suddenly saw her materialize before him. "Aye and I love you as well m'wife." Slowly he closed his eyes as she lay against him and he rested. The journey which awaited him would require he be at his best.
The day had finally arrived, Briggs stood at the portal that the necromancers had opened to the ShadowLands. He checked his equipment and turned to look at Morigane, Lobbu and the rest of the Legion. His voice was deep and full as he spoke, " I chose to do this on my own because I owe my lost sister a Honor Debt. The day she was taken from us I was not there for her as I should have been. Now I journey into this hellish plane and I give my word that I will return with her." Slowly turning he smiled at Zyac, "Brother, all is not lost and it will be as it once was. Keep watch over the Portal for me." Zyac could only nod at his brother as they clasped arms. Briggs turned and kissed his wife and smiled, "I will be home m'love for you are stuck with me for all eternity." He wiped her tears and kissed her once more, then turned and stepped into the portal.
His reality turned into his own hell. The world he stepped into was one out of a nightmare. Darkness everywhere and the screams, the screams almost drove him to his knees. He snarled and kept walking down the trail he had ended up on. Soon he came upon a decaying Castle and what he saw made him stop dead in his tracks. Bodies were impaled upon pikes, heads were on the tops of the gates, and body parts were entwined into a bridge. "This is truly hell." His voice almost a whisper, " This is not the place for Lobbo." Slowly he made his way across the bridge, his boots becoming slick with blood and body fluids. He stopped as he came to a gate, he saw no guards and as he reached for the doorway it opened and a chilling voice spoke, "Abandon all hope if you enter this place. The Soul Harvester does not fall easily." As he stepped into the castle a vision of utter torment filled his mind. Lobbo was strung up. Hooks digging into her skin and chains holding her to the wall as he screams fill his mind. "NO! You will no longer harm her!"
Suddenly dark shapes surrounded him, ShadowMen were upon him and his axe was in his hands. His rage filled the entire hallway as he struck them down. Suddenly he stopped, he dropped his axe, "No.no more killing. This place thrives on hatred and killing and I will no longer feed it." He closed his eyes and the screams stopped. As he opened them the shadows were gone. He picked up his axe and slid it back into his shoulder scabbard. His eyes took in the castle and suddenly he stopped as he saw her picture. He knew her face but couldn't remember where he had seen her. The eyes seemed to be alive as he walked by and a slight chill washed over his soul. "No, you will not have my soul. For it belongs to another who holds it in her own." He stepped up onto the stairs leading to the second floor and smiled, he could sense that Bo was close. "I'm coming little sister, tis time for you to come home." Slowly he moved to the ornate door and reached for the knob. He pushed the door open and there she stood, waiting for him. As he moved towards her something reached out and grabbed him. A voice full of hate and malice filled his mind, "Did you think it would be that easy fool? Did you think you could walk into MY home and take one of MY playthings?"
Hands of stone gripped him and threw him against the wall. He felt his bones crack but he did not fight back. "Are you a coward? Fight me or you will both be mine." The hands pounded on his body but all Briggs did was smile. Suddenly something inside him snapped, he coughed blood and heard Bo scream, "NO! Briggs NO! Fight him brother please! Fight him or I will I love you too much to see you die this way!" His eyes took in his sisters face and he smiled as the hands continued, "We have beaten him sister, what Mythra said was true. Love conquers all. " Suddenly he stood, pushing the hands away as the blows seemed to hurt less and less. He turned to the ShadowLord and smiled, "You cannot hold what was not yours to hold." He draped the Cloak of Souls around Bo's shoulders and smiled, as she seemed to return whole again. The Shard of Time suddenly appeared in his hands and the portal was before them. He could hear the screams of rage as the ShadowLord charged them. Quickly they stepped into the portal and were once again in the basement of BlazeRose Keep. He pushed Lobbo away from him and spun just as the Shadowlord came through the portal.
His axe was in his hands and he smiled as he spoke. "Now you are in my home and the price for evil in this house is death." The axe whistled thru the air and a sickening sound filled the room as the ShadowLord's head was removed from his body. Briggs pushed the body back into the portal and grabbed the head, "This will make a fine addition to the Legions trophy case." He tossed the head to Zyac, "Do what you will to this, but make sure it never goes back to that hell." Turning he smiled as he saw Lobbo and her daughter together. His wife wrapped her arms around him and smiled as he kissed her. "Sister? I have repaid a honor debt to you and your daughter. I did so out of love more than anything. Now do you think you can put some clothes on so I can return the cloak to its rightful resting-place? " Suddenly Lobbo's shrill laughter filled the room and she moved to hug her brother and kiss him gently. "Aye brother here is the cloak, return it as ye wish I'm sure Morigane has something I can wear." With a wink she shrugged out of the cloak and laughed as every man averted his eyes from her naked skin. Arm in arm she and Morigane and Lobbo walked to a dressing room in the Keep to find Bo something to wear. Briggs could only stand there with the cloak and shake his head as everyone broke into laughter.
Chapter 3: Finding His Past
He stood before the massive doors and waited to enter. Slowly the doors opened and before him stood a Giant. His hands instinctively went to his axe handle and then released as the giant laughed. " My lord will see you now Barbarian. But know this, anger him and you will end up as the Imp who sought to do you harm earlier." Slowly he stepped inside the doors and the giant shut them and slid the giant bar closed behind them. The Lord of Blazerose Keep knew not why he had been summoned, he only knew that it had something to do with his past for the Dragon Crystal he wore under his breastplate had been aglow ever since he'd received the summons. Slowly he stepped past the one named Skarn and then stood as the one named Tranix moved into another room and began speaking. He made out "He has come m'lord as you summoned" and "As you wish m'lord, immediately" Tranix turned and waved him inside with a grunt and stepped aside. Slowly he stepped inside the room and his breath caught in his throat as the sight before him.
The ancient red dragon was curled upon a mountain of treasure; smoke flowling from his nostrils and from around his teeth. The voice, which filled his ears instantly brought fear to his heart, t'was the fabled Dragon Fear and many a knight had met his doom by being unable to respond after the fear fell upon him. "You have come as I have summoned. But, know this, few mortals ever are allowed this far into my lair unless they are food or fools. You are here at the request of your father. At his request when you reached the age, which you are now, I was to tell you of your true parents and the reason they left you with the old shaman and why he left you with the Jymblaydes. Make yourself comfortable childe this will not be over soon." Briggs looked around and suddenly a massive throne was before him. With a motion of one massive claw Lord Nagafen motioned for his guest to sit and then moved around on his treasure pile. Slowly he stretched with his wings unfurling and flapping, causing a breeze to fill the room. A breeze, which made Briggs shiver and absently pull his cloak around him, this brought a deep, rumbling chuckle from the dragon as he watched. "Your story begins with two lovers who were forbidden to be together by all around them. Your mother was a Barbarian Shamaness who was well known and respected by all in Norrath. All knew her healing powers and she taught many in the shamanistic ways. Your father, on the other hand, was a dark and evil being. He was one of Veeshans' favorite WarLords. Many fell before his claws and teeth during the times of war. His anger was legendary among our kind; his vengeance was swift and final. But, he met your mother on one of his spying missions and he followed her to study this being who brought stirrings from his heart, which was strange to him. He assumed the form of a barbarian warrior many times to spend time with her and slowly he came to know love with her. He strayed from the path of evil to be with her. Soon after this your mother conceived you and he was pleased to have an heir. For some reason Veeshan allowed you to be born and to survive as you have." The Dragon paused and clicked his jaw with a massive talon as he became lost in thought. His eyes seemed to glow as he looked upon Briggs again. Slowly the words filled the room one more.
"You were born under the dragon moon, that is why you wear that crystal. Inside it is a small bit of the soul of both your mother and father. They both watch over you from afar. Now as to the reason you were taken to the old Shaman. Your father knew that Veeshan's vengeance would be swift and unforgiving. He went to your mother and they spoke of this while you slept. Fearing for your own life they took you to the shaman, who hid you well under spells and such means. As they left you they both partook of the crystal so they would be with you always. The shaman swore to them both that he would keep you safe and would assure you would grow as they wished. This was the last time he saw them and I would tell you only that they both died bravely and swiftly. Now as to the Jymblaydes and how you came to be with them. The old shaman aged faster than he should have and needed someone to watch over you. He watched many and one evening they came to him seeking potions and he spoke to them about adopting his son and watching over him because his time was nearing an end. The Jymblaydes, after much thought, agreed to this and took you in. Lord Jymblayde taught you the ways of the warrior and the meaning of dedication while Lady Jymblayde taught you compassion and loyalty. They both combined to teach you love and honor and what it means to have a family. The old one could not have found a better couple for you. As I look at you I see the ways of both your mother and father in you. I see your father in you moves and how you carry yourself, and your mother in your eyes and how you take in all around you. You will be a great man one day, mayhaps even a great leader. Now I am done speaking there are those who would seek me dead and they come soon. I must make preparations and you should not be here for that. Now go, leave this place and tell only those you trust with your heart what I have told you."
Briggs rose from the chair and made his way to the door, pausing to turn back one last time. His voice was deep and full as he spoke; " I thank you for this Lord Nagafen and let it be known that when my time comes to face you I pray that either of our deaths is swift and honorable." The dragon just stared at him in silence and then slowly raised a clawed paw in salute as Briggs turned away and moved into the secret exit and made his way back out into the acrid air of the LavaStorm Mountains where his wife waited on horseback. He swung up onto his mount and leaned over to kiss her gently. "M'love I have much to tell you once we get back to our home, about my past about mother and father and about us." He stared into her confused eyes and smiled at her. "No worries love nothing will ever change between us. I love you now as I will forever."
Chapter 4: A New Beginning and a Rebuilding
He stood before the shrine to Rallos Zek and snarled as his hands gripped his axe's hilt. The hurt, pain and anger evident in his eyes and on his face. Slowly he brought the axe up and slammed the blade thru the shrine again and again, his words seemingly like thunder as each blow landed.
"You have forsaken me, I followed you, killed for you, sought justice for you and you forsake me. I renounce you and ALL the damnedable gods. We are not your playthings! I need no god to direct me, my fate is MY OWN! My Destiny is MY OWN! Never again will I pray to one of you or pay tribute to one of you, NEVER AGAIN!"
With his last scream the shrine was destroyed. After This he slowly walked back into the darkness. His steps took him back to the ruins of Blazerose Keep and he stood among the destruction and looked upon where he had called home. Slowly he removed his armor and weapons and stood in no more than his kilt, his muscles rippled as he began clearing the stones and debris away. He worked well past sunrise and had a clear spot done. Kneeling, he removed the Dragon Orb from around his neck. Unclasping the chain he reached down and pulled his platinum wedding band from among some burned stones and slid it onto the chain. Then he clasped his hands around the stood and concentrated. He spoke the ancient tome of making that his mother had taught him in a dream and he felt the earth move around him. When he opened his eyes he was kneeling near the elder Oak. His eyes opened wide as he looked around him. Everything was as it was before he had set the Keep ablaze.
He was weak from his task and sighed as his body relaxed. Suddenly, he felt a small hand on his shoulder,
"M'love? Morigane?"
He spun and looked at the lithe figure before him and his smile turned into an emotionless glance as he saw it was not the one who held his heart and soul. His voice a hoarse whisper,
"Nae, she is gone nae'r to return to me"
"Tis good you came to save the tree little sister, it helped me do what I have done. The road I travel now is dark and I may nae return to the way I once was. You'd do best to stay away from me less you have the same happen to you as I have had happen to me."
Slowly he stared back down at the ground and waited for Treewhisper to speak.
The Orc Wars: A Journey Home
He moves silently as he walks the halls of BlazeRose Keep. His mind is enraged at the news of the recent attacks on his birthplace of Halas. Orcs have risen enmass and have assaulted numerous cities across Norrath. They have been pushed back time and time again but still they come, driven by some mad lust for blood and battle. He has made ready for his journey home to help as much as he can. He has not spoken to anyone save his Captain of the Guard, Angus StoutHeart, and the messenger who is on his way to Halas. His armor is ready, his weapons packed for the trip, his trusted horse ready for this trip from the Karanas to Halas. Slowly he walks through the Keep checking the inhabitants. Morigane sleeps soundly in her room, home form her travels to the lands of the gods. Selgus rolls over in bed and growls and returns to sleep. He moves out into the garden and rests his hands on the Grandfather Tree and smiles as the tree bids him safe travels. Dinaden and Tree are cuddled together in their Tree House, safe in the arms of the old tree. He softly pats the old bark and nods once in passing and then moves to the stables.
"Sair ye should nae go alone, let me send guards with ye." Angus' voice is filled with knowledge and reason and yet his Lord knows that this cannot happen for every guard will be needed in case of the Orcs moving against the Keep. "No old friend as usual I go alone. Dragonsbrand and I will see to this matter." Angus is gruff and upset as Briggs mounts the giant roan horse and rides out of the Keep. He stops long enough to watch the gates close and hear the bars slide across them. Nodding once he waves his hand to those on the battlements and smiles as they return the gesture. Spurring the horse he heads across the plains towards Halas.
Two days later he is still on the trail. He has seen signs of the Orcs but has not come across any Orc Patrols. He passed a small settlement in the karanas and stopped to bury the dead. The Druids of the Karanas had retreated to High Hold once the uprising had begun. He past the Druidic Rings and sighed as he saw them scorched from flames and weapons. He had found a treant slain and had prayed over it and then built a funeral pyre for it and looked away as it had burned. He found slain human guards in the Karanas as well as farmers. He had buried the bodies and had kept riding. Now he was moving thru the Hills of Qeynos and here he came upon an encampment of Qeynos Guards, Druids and Rangers from Surefall Glade. They had bid him stop for food and drink and he had obliged them with a smile and news of his travels. The commander of the encampment had told him that the Orcs had been stopped here as they had come from Black Burrow. He had thanked them for the meal and info and had pressed on from here. As he neared Black Burrow he could smell the burned hair and skin, slowly he dismounted and led the horse thru the tunnel and into the passage thru the Burrow. He shook his head as he saw the dead gnolls and orcs and kept going. As he came to the end of the tunnel, which opened, into Everfrost Peaks he stopped and shouted a challenge to the guard, which stood on the barbarian side. They had responded in kind and had welcomed him home for he was the former commander of the Halas Guardians. He took a report and told the men he would get word to Halas and have them relieved as soon as he could. He mounted his horse and rode for Halas.
As he rode thru the Peaks an unearthly calm cause DragonsBrand to shiver slightly and paw at the ground. Briggs reached back for his axe and snarled just as three orc mountaineers burst out of a snow bank. In a flash he was down off the horse and his axe whistled through the air. The head of the first orc hit the ground as his body fell back into the snow. Briggs spun and buried his axe in the chest of the second and snarled as he spun for the third. The orc was lying on its face and a Barbarian was yanking a sword out of it's back. "Damnit Jack I had them. No need for you to be bothered." The other barbarian just smiled. "Briggs Blazerose, I've known you for ages and you are still as bad as we were when we were younger." The two barbarians clasped hand to forearm in the greeting of old warriors. "Bah you old crazy fool, still out here running the peaks I see, where's the bear?" Jack's eyes suddenly took on a look, which made Briggs wish he'd not asked that question. "He's back in the lair, nursing his wounds. We were set upon by a patrol of Orcs and they almost had us. That old bear took numerous blows meant for me. Took me forever to help him back to the Lair but he's sleeping his wounds away. I was on my way to Halas for supplies, guess we'll both make our way there." Briggs nodded and smiled as they both resumed the trip to Halas.
Once the had made it to the next line of guards and then across the ferry into the city Briggs made his way to the Pit and stopped to talk to the warriors there. It was late and he would speak with the Elders when the Sun broke the night. He took a room at the Warriors Hall and saw to his horse. He spent the night walking through the city and speaking with those who lived and worked there. Then he moved back to his room for a rest after the long trip.... To Be Continued....
By Briggs Blazerose
The Lord of Blazerose Keep stood on the battlements and stared out across the wooded plains. He had lost much these past few weeks but it seemed he had found much more as of late. His thoughts turned to the one who know held his heart and soul. Father would be proud for he had been chosen by a Cleric as he had. Mother would hopefully not question his judgment too much. His thoughts drifted to her in an instant....
..."Damn this swamp, Rallos Zek take me for a fool for my wandering here." His armor was caked in grime and mud and swamp grass. He had come here to seek solace in the darkness of the swamp and now his blades shone red from the blood of the Troll patrol, which had beset him. His thoughts had been wandering when they had attacked him, one second he was calm and the next a battle rage controlled him and he had slain the trolls without thought. "Gods this place is typical of evil. Damned kobolds and fogloks running rampant as jesters do in court." He kicked a kobold runt away and trudged through the swamp. As he came around a cypress the sounds of battle filled his ears as well as a voice, which seemed to freeze his heart. It was high and of nobility, in an instant he knew it was one of the High Elves. He broke into a run and as he topped a rise he saw a high elf maiden in golden armor being attacked by Trolls. His rage took him and he leapt among them, moving between the elf and her attackers. His blades sliced through armor and skin as the Trolls toppled before him.
Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his side and spun. One of the trolls glared at him and spat. Looking down he saw blood seeping from under his armor and the growl, which came from deep within him, sent the Troll scurrying away. Cocking his arm back, Briggs released the cutlass and smiled at the sound of it slamming between the Trolls shoulder blades. The troll hit the ground with a thud and Briggs spun to send the last of them to meet their god. He staggered over to the troll and jerked his cutlass free and looked around slowly. His eyes took in the elfin lady and in an instant he knew she was a cleric. He sat suddenly as blood loss and exertion form battle overcame him. The world went black and the last thing he saw was the cleric moving over him her spells building an aura around her.
He came to with a backpack for a pillow and the smells of food cooking filling his nose. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw the cleric sitting near the fire. When she saw him she smiled and nodded to him, her voice was like a melody in his ears. "M’lord I wish to thank you for your help. You seemed not to care for your own safety as you rushed into battle. For that I am thankful. I have healed your wounds but there will be some scarring." Slowly he felt around and knew what she said was true. "M’lady I could not let them harm you. It would have not been honorable for me to do that. Your healing touch is wonderful m’lady you have healed all and the scars will not bother me at all." His eyes took her in and his heart stopped fully. She looked at him in return and arched an eyebrow when she noticed his stare. "M’lord? Why do you look at me so? Do I offend you? He shook his head slowly and coughed, "No m’lady you could never offend me. I stare at you so because for some reason you cause my heart to still and then beat again."
She blushed as his words were spoken and he smiled and blushed slightly as well. "M’lady I am sorry if I offend but my words are true." She shook her head and smiled softly, "No m’lord you do not offend, and in fact you make my heart do the same." Her words cause him to smile as he sat up and stretched. Slowly he stood and brushed the dirt and grime off his armor and moved closer to the fire. She passed him a plate and he gladly thanked her as he ate. She watched him as well while she ate her meal. Slowly it began to rain and he stood and erected a tarp over them and smiled as he sat down and resumed eating.
After the meal the two of them sat and talked, both telling the other of their past. She spoke to him of a son and he asked to know more. Slowly she opened up to him and he learned that he had known her son in passing. She was pleased to hear this and they talked well into the night. Soon he erected a sleeping tent and asked her to take it. She tried to say no but he would not have it. She soon relented and he was pleased. After she had moved her things into the tent and came back out to speak with him more. Slowly the two of them ended up sitting together with his arms wrapped around her to share warmth as it became cold in the swamps. Soon they drifted off both wrapped in his cloak and safe from the rain.
His thoughts came back and he smiled as her name escaped his lips in a whisper. "Elaina." Slowly he walked along the battlements nodding to his men and then he retired to his chambers with her thoughts on his mind.
By Briggs Blazerose, 4/7/00
The morning mists hung heavily over the battlefield, horns and drums could be heard from the trees facing the Keep. The attacking troops were mustering for the battle and moving equipment for the upcoming battle. Anson stood by Briggs and smiled,” They are ready to come to us sair.” Briggs turned and smiled, ”Aye Anson, they will come and they shall learn what death truly is.” The night before Briggs and others had stolen out onto the battlefield to remove the coverings from the pits surrounding the Keep. Now, only grass covered the pits and this was magically covered so it would look like nothing was amiss. Briggs smiled darkly and nodded as the attacking calvary made it’s way into formation. “Archers ready, I want none of those men alive when they charge us.” His Archers nodded and Leflair smiled, ”Brother they won’t get past the pits.I promise you that.”
Suddenly the men spurred their horses and the ground shook as over one hundred horses moved as one. Screaming as they came as the bloodlust took them the riders waved weapons and spurred their mounts on faster. Briggs shook his head, “Such a waste of good Horse flesh. Save what ye can of those mounts Lef, it would be humane and we can use more horses.” Leflair nodded, his face grim as he pulled his bowstring taunt. The other fifty archers did the same and fixed upon a target. Suddenly, the horses his the pits, the grass covering them disappeared and the riders looked down to see the spears and spikes which filled each pit. The screams of both horse and man filled the battlefield as they fell to their deaths. Briggs turned slowly to survey the carnage as Leflair and his archers let loose with a barrage and then another. Men fell from horseback and writhed on the ground, horses screamed as they thrashed, a few horses made it to the Keep and the gates were opened as the squires moved to corral them. Briggs nodded and moved down the ramparts towards the casters tower. He wanted to make sure they were all ready. He stepped onto the balcony and smiled, Amberlee, Geranon, Phyndin and Tritium were all ready. He nodded to them and moved around the building to find Aesha , Qalaar , Xrath and Aairk all ready for battle. He turned to them all and smiled, “My family those who would help the attackers by using their spells are your first targets. Spare none.” Then he turned and moved down the steps to the courtyard where most of the others stood, his eyes swept over Heldenfeld, Harpax, Fantane , SoulKeeper, with his arms wrapped around Arylin, Anthem and Callandra playing battlesongs, Ganorn and Avar stood discussing holy matters, Gaken and Tinhawk discussing healing with Rathalius, Nokomis standing with Gotyour, a smile on her face from his endless joking. His eyes then locked on Khaylis, Ticarro, and Bellimar , these were his brothers in arms on another level and he had learned much from them. He slowly caught their attention and smiled.
“You all answered when we sent word of the coming battle and it does my soul good to see you all.” His eyes moved from one to the other in thanks. “The coming battle will be brutal. I have no idea what artifact it is that the commander of this army seeks but they say it is here in OUR Home. I for one will not allow anyone to desecrate our home. No words are needed let us just give these fiends what for and send them to hell the fastest way possible.”
His family smiled almost as one and moved off to their battle points. Khaylis moved beside him and put a arm on his, ”Brother, go check on her, I know you want to, I’ll check on the rest of the men.” Briggs smiled and nodded “Aye brother it won’t take me long.” Briggs turned and bounded up the stairs of the North Tower. He stopped and opened the door to his private rooms and stood in the doorway, his breath taken away at the vision before him. She lay there on her side sleeping soundly, the silk sheets clinging to her body. The handmaiden smiled and nodded, “She sleeps well m’lord but, I fear the coming battle will wake her.” Briggs nodded and whispered, “If she wakes you WILL not let her leave this room, her wounds need to heal before she can fight.” The handmaiden nodded and smiled as her lord moved to brush his lips against those of the sleeping woodelf. He lay a single BlazeRose on her pillow and slowly left the room.
He smiled as Khaylis waved to him and then suddenly heard a lone horn ringout. He ran up the rampart stairs and looked out onto the battlefield. His eyes found the incoming white flag and he smiled. He saw the commander of the attacking troops move out of the mist. “I give you one last chance Lord BlazeRose, give me what I desire or I will lay waste to your Keep and your friends.” Briggs turned and looked into the faces of each of those who were fighting with him. The look returned to him was all the same. He cupped his hands around his mouth, “Go back to your troops! They will know nothing but death if you send them against us.” The enemy commander said nothing as he turned his mount and rode back to his lines. Briggs saw his hand come up and then drop, suddenly a rumble filled the morning as the attacking troops moved as one. Ogres and Trolls, humans and dark elves all moved as one and then suddenly charged as one, their screams filling the morning air. Bolts of energy flew from both sides, the attacking casters taking the worst of it. Briggs did not turn to see what damage they had done, he knew it would be taken care of by the healers. His hands gripped both his short swords as he moved down the ramparts. His eyes took in the group of men who stood with him as the gates opened and they stepped out onto the battlefield. They were all protected by numerous battle spells. These seventy five men would face down a dragon itself if need be.
The archers were firing arrows as fast as they could, the incoming spells were becoming few and far between, the incoming troops were falling like wheat before a giant scythe. Briggs readied himself as the first of them came to him. One thrust dropped him and then it was all a blur, a ogre falling before him then a troll as the bloodlust took him. Anson suddenly surrounded by a horde of Ogres and falling, a scream filling the morning as Briggs leapt among them swords flashing blood spilling as the ogres fell. Last thing he saw was two of the men carrying Anson back to the healers. He turned as the remaining troops began to retreat. He kept his men in formation as they moved back into the Keep, carrying their wounded and dead.
Briggs dropped his swords into their sheaths. Suddenly a bloodthirsty scream filled the air and a huge shadow covered the Keep.
With a resounding crash something huge hit the ground behind Briggs. He spun and his eyes narrowed as the dust hit him. His eyes widened as he took in a huge green dragon. Suddenly someone was handing him his runed two handed sword, he looked down into the eyes of the woodelf who had stolen his heart. She leaned up and kissed his lips softly then moved away. His family all stood on the ramparts and made ready to defend their homes from this fiend. A low grating voice filled the Keep, “You have what I desire Lord BlazeRose and I will have it even if it means I raze this entire Keep to the ground. You have the totem which was meant for me many years ago and you WILL give it to me.” Suddenly a voice filled Briggs’ head, “ My son…this vile creature lies. The totem was not meant for him, it was meant for you, tis why YOU have it. I will be with you during this fight my son, fear not.” Suddenly Briggs body thrashed as energies hit him, the woodelf screamed and backed away as a change overtook the man she saw. Briggs arms flung out beside him the sword clenched in one hand, his eyes locking with those of the dragon. His voice was a rumble from the heavens his eyes glowing with ancient energy, “You will find nothing but death here old one, if that is what you truly want then come,” his hand beckoned the dragon forward, “face me and my son together we will destroy you and no harm shall come to any here but you.”
Suddenly energies seemed to fill the Keep and it dissolved around them. They were in a ancient arena , blood stained the floor, gore was everywhere. Then suddenly the voice was back, “Remember this place old one? You should tis where you suffered your last tormenting defeat. Good defeated evil again that day. Care to take another try?” The dragon suddenly threw its head back and flames filled the arena, crashing over Briggs, blackening his armor but doing no more damage than that. “ Old one I do not crave to destroy you, you are old and wise, ageless in knowledge, there is a huge cavern and underground Keep near BlazeRose Keep which you could partake of, I’m sure my son would nae mind a ally such as yourself. I will NOT let you destroy him, he is needed in the future of Norrath. What will you do old one? Face me again and die this time or help Norrath with your knowledge? Your two spawn have become evil, they seek to destroy all that is Norrath and make it their own, which you know cannot happen for the balance to be kept. You know, as well as I, that balance must be kept less we all fall.” The old Dragon was listening to all this, one claw tapping his scaled chin, then his voice filled the arena, “You speak trully as you did those many years ago old friend. Your son seems to be the one who can change Norrath, I will help him and his family, after all they do seem to be the Guardians of K’Arnon. So they seem to be MY Guardians as well as yours. I agree to this for now. Return us old friend I’m sure they worry about this lad.”
Suddenly the keep was surrounding then again and Briggs was screaming for everyone to calm down as the dragon looked around. His voice like thunder filling the area, “Know this I am K’Arnon, I have chosen to return and I will call the near underground Keep as my own. You all are allies to me now as I am to you. Call upon me when you need and I will call upon you when I need.” With a mighty sweep of his wings he leapt into the air and was gone. Briggs stood with one hand clenching the sword and one arm around the woodelf maidens waist, his eyes staring into hers as the dragon flew off to his new home. His eyes moved around to each of his family as they all began to wonder what would come next………
By Briggs Blazerose, 4/7/00
He sat upon a rock and thought of everything that was going on within him as of late. Suddenly the growls and snarls of the wolves, which lived on his land, brought him to stand and spin in their direction. IN a sprint he was over the next rise and stopped short at the scene he beheld. Ogres! Here???? His mind raced as he pulled his swords and joined the battle. These Ogres had beset upon a small pack of wolves and were toying with them. Two already lay dead as a mother and father wolf sought to protect the cubs between them. With a roar the Lord of Blazerose Keep charged the Ogres. They spun to meet him and the first fell with his body one way and his head the next. The larger two set upon Briggs with ferocity and rage as they kept him from the Ogre with the bow. The twang of the shot filled the plain, as did the death howl of the female wolf. His concentration broken, he felt the sword bite deep into his side. In shock he lashed out, his sword blade driving deep into the stomach of the nearest Ogre. The next moment he saw the club crash down on the skull of the old alpha wolf and his eyes saw the last living cub as it shivered near it’s mother.
Enraged to the point of not caring he threw himself upon the larger of the Ogres and bashed it’s head in with the hilt of his swords. Standing on weak legs he threw the SharkJaw Cutlass and smiled bloodily as it bit into the back of the remaining Ogre. The ogre fell like a splintered tree and then Briggs dropped to his knees, his blood staining the snow as he crawled to the cub. Reaching out he pulled the cub against his chest and looked upon the alpha wolf. Glazed over eyes stared at him as he made a promise to raise this one as his own, to do the old alpha wolf proud. Reaching out he closed the old wolfs eyes and stood on weak legs. One hand held the cub against him and the other picked his weapons up and put them away. As he walked he kept his hand over the wound and prayed to Tunare and Rallos Zek that he could make it back to the Keep.
The guards saw the man staggering down the road to the Keep and called for the Lady to come see. As she stepped out of the door her husband dropped to one knee and then fell against the door. His face was ashen as she knelt over him. She motioned for them to take him to their room so she could heal him, when she saw the little ball of fur curled up against her husband’s cloak. Reaching down she pulled the wolf cub out of the cloak and held it up. It squirmed and growled at her and then soon settled down as she stared at it with a smile on her face. “So he has brought home another rascal has he? Well YOU will not be tearing into things YOU will be well behaved.” The wolf licked her face as she held it against her. She heard her husbands voice as they carried him, “Send out patrols….Ogres..killed wolf pack….made promise to keep cub..” Angus turned and shook his head, “Ogres he says? M’lady do you think our lord is with fever?”
She shook her head, “Do as he said I have never known him to midjudge something and if you find the dead wolves, bury them correctly.” Angus nodded, “And the bodies of the Ogres m’lady?” She looked at her husbands wounds and snarled, “Leave them for the scavengers”
Slowly she cleaned her husbands’ wounds and covered them in ointment as she cast her healing spells on him and smiled as he healed. She sat on the edge of the bed near him as the wolf cub curled up against her. She scratched the cubs’ ears as her husband moved in his sleep as the save sealed his wounds and prevented infection. Slowly she curled up next to him as the wolf cub made itself comfortable between them. “You will have to learn to sleep in that basket soon little one, nothing sleeps between my man and I.”
The beautiful writings of Dias:
By Dias, 3/12/99
Stepping into the early morning sun, I pull my cloak tighter around my body. Snow drips noisily from the eaves of the cabin, smoke gently wafting from the chimney. Walking across the valley towards the group of cabins nestled against the hill, I notice the wind start to blow a little crisper, foretelling some lower temperatures.
Hailing the shopkeeper, I step inside his small but well stocked store. Loading my pack with the essentials, I then pay him and walk back to my camp to prepare for my adventures. Slinging my backpack over one shoulder, strapping my scabbard over my pack, I heft my axe and point my feet down the trail.
The early morning was quiet, eerily quiet. The only sounds were the sounds of my feet treading on the trail…..a noise in the trees gets my attention. Looking closely, I see what appears to be a giant rodent. Stepping closer, the giant rat growls angrily at my trespassing and lunges. One swing of my axe brings the frenzied rat down. Sliding my axe into its scabbard, I skin the rat, taking the valuable hide and ears for the bounty on them. Back on the trail, feeling good about ridden the woods of diseased-ridden vermin, I drift into that world of waking dreams. Thinking about the adventures I’ve had, the ones yet to come with the great friends I have found in SCARAB….my drifting is interrupted by a sudden scream. Rushing towards the sound, I find a human woman fighting off a horde of cackling skeletons, piles of bones evidence of the ones she had already slain. Pulling my axe from its place on my back, I wade into the fray. Back to back, we fight of the undead onslaught… The rhythm of the battle is hectic, our swings in synchronization, never interfering with each other, the fight lasts for what seems like hours...probably more like 2-3 minutes. After the dust settled and we caught our breath, gazing upon the woman, I finally get a good look at her. Curly blond hair, emerald green eyes, thin and lithe, she seems to shine with an inter-light, she tells me her name. The sound of it was like musical notes, I felt dizzy…awestruck…all emotions at once. My mind cannot comprehend the waves of emotion…..
Awakening in the small clearing where the battle took place, the woman is gone. I feel refreshed like I had slept a hundred days and a hundred nights. A small purse rests on my chest, holding gold pieces, some silver and copper pieces, and a small piece of parchment. I grip the parchment…trying to read the feathery writing….
Kind sir,
Thank thee for your valiant assistance. The pouch is the loot from the undead and a little extra for saving my life. If you ever are in need of assistance, think of me and I will be there for you.
Eternally grateful,
Ella’dil
Placing the note back in the pouch, I lean against my pack, picture her smiling face and smile. This day has just begun….
By Dias, 5/19/99
Waking the next morning still sprawled in the small clearing, images of Ella’dil still in my head, I shake the cobwebs from my brain and rise. The lean-to I had built had served its purpose, now it made good firewood. Starting the fire, I set the single pot on the fire to melt some snow for drinking water. While the water boiled, berries and small roots make for a filling breakfast…ah…sweet root…excellent. After filling my water skins and my belly with clear stream water, I set off once again down the trail, stepping silently on the soft pine needles.
My effortless stride eats mile after mile, over hills, streams, and through tall grass valleys until the sun is high in the clear sky. I stop for a rest on top of a tall hill, looking out over a long valley. Something bothers me…cant quite make it out…something is just unnatural here. A line of trees marks where a stream or brook runs the length of the valley, splitting the valley in equal halves. I sit silently, listening for signs of life…listening for any noise…anything at all.
Deciding to camp at the top of the valley for the night, I go about the preparations for a fire, and a shelter. Settling onto my bedroll, pulling my bearskin over me snugly, I can not get the feeling of something wrong out of my head. Thinking of this, I slowly doze off.
Long skeletal fingers of the frigid dawn try to push into the relatively warm lean-to as I awaken with a start. Cold sweat runs down my neck, I slide out of the shelter and look around quickly. Everything looks normal, but something definitely feels out of balance. In the early light, I survey the valley again. Hmm…Was that small hut there late evening??
Packing up the camp hurriedly, dousing the coals with handfuls of snow, I set off down through the long grasses of the valley cautiously. A faint trail appears beneath my feet, leading in the direction of the small dwelling. Not wanting to follow the trail directly, I cut across it and walk parallel to the stream. Approaching the house, listening for any noises, I crouch silently in the grass, looking the house over. A fire burns out in front of the low door, a spit rests on two metal prongs, but nothing is cooking…at the moment. The ground is beaten down, as if well trampled on, in a circle around the hut and the fire. There is a faint scent on the breeze blowing across the valley, coming from the direction of the hut. Smells of burnt meant and hides come drifting slowly to me, making my nose wrinkle.
The sun is coming up over the trees when activity is heard from inside the hut. The darkness of the doorway splits to reveal a hideously disfigured face…just gazing upon the awful features makes my stomach turn. The figure emerges and moves to the woodpile, grabs a few logs and throws them haphazardly on the fire. The flames lick hungrily at the dead wood…growing of the energy within the wood. Stepping back inside the hut, the creature emerges with something slung over its shoulder. I strain my eyes, trying to make out what it is…No! It cant be! The body of a young child…..
I'm still looking in the dusty corners of my old hard drive for the one where Dinaden finds the magical portal to other lands...Dinaden walked briskly towards Scarab Freeport Headquarters. The building was in the north business ward, near the bank and many other Freeport businesses. People bustled about, rushing to get to where they were going. His trusty sword was poking him in the back again. Dinaden sighed. With a practiced movement and soft grunt, he carefully adjusted his sword in its harness on his back. It was a fine weapon, and had never failed him in spilling the blood of countless evil monsters, but Dinaden had seen enough blood to last a lifetime.
Din walked into Scarab HQ, climbed the steps to his quarters. His quarters were much larger and, despite his protests, more luxurious, than when he had first joined up, but were still decorated in the simple, martial aesthetic of the northern Halasians. Various trinkets that he had acquired in his adventures, trophy animal heads, and weapons that Din had used in his younger days adorned the walls. Its good to be home, thought Din, dropping his backpack on the floor with a sigh. Freeport was always a little humid and bit too hot, and what they considered the winter season was rather a joke, but hey, you take what you can get, you take what you can get, thought Din.
Dinaden unsnapped the magical bracer he wore on his left forearm. It had been given him by a thankful town in reward for slaying a renegade minotaur. Each piece of his equipment still brought back vivid memories, of friends that had stood by him at the time, and the evils they defeated in the name of Scarab. Dinaden continued the laborious process of unstrapping his magic platemail. How proud he had been when he had completed his set of it! Now, Din placed the armor carefully on the soft fur polar bear pelt on the floor, given him by his mother for protecting him against the Everfrost cold. Perhaps he should have worn that when he had done battle with the mighty ice dragon Vox in her lair, Din thought with a chuckle. That would have mom turning in her grave, thought Din with a grin.
Dinaden shrugged his way out of his shoulder sword harness, tossed the sword onto the bed, turned towards the small spring in the corner of the room. It burbled up, floating about 4 feet off the ground, magical power recirculating the sparkling clear water in a small basin fountain. Despite what they said in Hallas, sometimes being friends with wizards did pay. Din leaned over the fountain and splashed water on his face. Yow! The water was shockingly cold. Laughing, Din muttered warmer. The water shimmered slightly. Din splashed more water. Ahh, thats better. He let the warm water wash away the dust of the road. He dried his face on a towel, picked up the sword.
As Dinaden lifted the sword from the bed and started to look around for somewhere to hang it, Dins left arm involuntarily drew the sword--shhhhhiiiink. Din looked down at his sword arm askance. Silly arm, what is there to kill? Exhaling peacefully, Din flipped the sword around, rolling his wrist, reversing his grip to a backhanded grip a certain bard had showed him. Of course, the bard had been using a little elf sword, but then Dinaden was a barbarian. Foosh foosh foosh. Foosh foosh foosh. Foosh foosh. Din swished the huge magic blade through the air effortlessly, performing an intricate series of cuts. Dinaden didnt like to do that among his Scarab friends, it was too showy. Despite the chronic pain in his back, the movements still came so easily, and with a power and grace that surpriseed him in the quiet solitude of his room. When did I ever get so damn good? Dinaden thought in a moment of pride. A grin creeped across Dinadens features of its own accord.
Spinning the sword around once more, Din returned the sword to its sheath, hung it over his bed, then collapsed onto it for a much deserved rest. Dinaden stretched out his massive frame on his custom build bed, one of the few luxuries he allowed himself. "Ahhh," a massive sigh escaped Din's tired body. It was a sound of fatigue and long suffering in a body that had experienced more than its share of the tender mercies of the evil creatures of Norrath. Perhaps the time had come for him to ease off a bit from wild adventuring, become an instructor at the Scarab training hall for younger warriors, or take up running the Jade Tiger Inn, which he owned. He thought back to his day of adventuring with Scarab. It had been a good day, typical of a life that had been more blessed than he often acknowledged. As many other days, it had been a day of small triumphs, friendship shared and sealed in blood and laughter, wisdom attained on the wrong end of a club, and another few platinum pieces to finance Dinadens retirement. Din cursed reflexively at that weak thought. Pffft, as he used to say in his younger days. Din chuckled at himself. Thinking back, Dinaden rolled over onto his back, sighed again, a more contented sound this time, and a smile spread across his weathered face.
He carefully removed his eyepatch and laid it on the dresser, touched the ugly scar underneath. Even with only one good eye, I still recognized good people and followed them, thought Din. For that, he was grateful. He had seen too many others throw their lives away on causes not worth a drop of ale, watched sadly as too many of his childhood friends took the wrong path in life. Dinaden pondered, venturing to think that perhaps he had led a worthwhile life so far, protected those who needed it, done his part in making the world a little better, with the help of his friends in Scarab, which he would not trade for any friends in all Norrath. Can't ask for more, really. Dinaden looked at his armor lying on the floor; it looked to him so suddenly alien, a cold blue steel shell of a past life, now shed. Din knew he still had a path to walk, yet from now on, he would lead a very different life. Tunare grant me the wisdom to find a worthy path ahead of me, and the courage to walk it, prayed Din. It was not the most original prayer, but it was a good one nevertheless, Dinaden thought with satisfaction. Whoever thought I would end up praying to Tunare? With another brief prayer to Tunare to heal his chronicly injured right leg, the gruff warrior pulled the covers up to his chin, just the way he liked them, and dreamed very pleasant dreams.
Thunder boomed in the still Antonican night. Dinaden Gahalantine looked up from the mug he was drying. The gods disapproval sounded again, louder. Closer. The clouds burst forth all at once with rain, and the water beat down upon the Jade Tiger with a hiss. The dying light of the Freeport day shone weakly through the freshly scrubbed windows of the inn, playing across Dinaden's greying goatee. His young servant had already lit the torches for the evening, and they burned brightly in their sconces, illuminating the main hall with an comfortable orange glow. Shadows danced across wet travellers, just now entering. Business will be good tonight, thought Dinaden. He dried another mug. Still, he had all he needed; "another coin in the cup is like another snowflake on the hill," as the barbarian saying went. Quickly bored of thoughts of coin, Dinadens drifted to other things.
A party of adventurers walked in, clad all in steel and laughing boisterously among themselves. One largish man seemed particularly enthused. He waved his hand, still clutching a sword, in the air. Din caught snippets of conversation: and did you see? then and the weasel limped all the way home carrying the candleablra, haha! Aye, but then you with the beer and that wench...when you came the roguish reply. The first man roared even louder with laughter. Hahahaha, aye, that I did, but Din smiled as he dried another mug. Did I sound so foolish in my younger days; was I such a braggart as this? Aye, I probably was, Din decided with a hearty chuckle.
The Jade Tiger was ablaze with life. The evening was now well on, and the main hall filled with patrons. Dinaden smiled with contentment, not only that he would be paying the servants a little extra come this harvest festival, but that so many found happiness in his simple inn. Still, the Jade Tiger had not been new when Dinaden had purchased it. The rooms upstairs were cozy and quaint, yet were old and had need of renovation and new furnishings. Handing over control of the main hall to his head servingman David, Dinaden tromped up the stairs toward the lodging rooms.
Mr. Gahalantine, the carpenter for the stair has arrived. He asks your leave to begin constuctions in the morning, piped up Pipin the young, a wee lad of a boy who had been trying unsuccessfully to break into the Temple of Marr when Dinaden had found him.
Aye, Pipin, tell him to begin first thing in the morning. Yes, mlord! Pipin replied enthusiastically scampered off, skipping unneccessarily as was the way of childeren. Din looked around the main hall, now fully occupied by the happily distracted citizens of Freeport. Raucous cheers of encouragement at one table where the patrons were engaged in a drinking contest blended with the discussion of a group of bejeweled nobles in a booth. A dwarf arm wrestled a barbarian, neither willing to yield, a look of fierce concentration evident on each of their faces. Dinadens mood began to lift, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Torches sparkled brightly and shadows danced on the faces of all present. For the moment at least, all was as it should be.
A few months later
Borgu Bladesong played a plaintive elven melody on his lute. After his own semi-retirement from adventuring, Dinaden had persuaded Borgu to come to the Jade Tiger and perform every once in a while. The patrons that were not too drunk or tin-eared to appreciate music were treated to the sweet music of a master musician more fitting to a throne room than a common tavern. Borgus deft fingers danced with long practiced ease over the strings. Dinaden lifted a mug in salute to his friends skill, caught Borgus eye, nodded his appreciation.
Borgu was on this particular evening surveying a round of the more popular local folk balads:
You cant
always get
what you waaant
But if you try sometimes
You might find
You get what you neeeeed,
warbled the great bard. Walking back to the bar area, Dinaden was accosted by two well dressed, stocky middle aged men.
One of the men, clad all in red silks, spoke with a obsequious smile: Ahhh! Mr. Gahalantine! I am SO pleased to have found you! I have the great pleasure of informing you of a most excellent business opportunity in the new lands of Velious Dinaden knew the type. Since his retirement, he had grown uncomfortably familiar with the merchants of the north Freeport business district that frequented the Jade Tiger. They were as friendly as the next chap, usually, yet Dinaden could not help but be disgusted by their obsession with coin. Dinadens beloved Jade Tiger had expanded greatly, and he had been forced to hire many new servants. Sometimes Dinaden felt ashamed, in spite of himself. Servants, piles of silver ah, it was not the Halasian way. Merchants had a knack for divining the whereabouts of wealth. They saw the workingmen taking in loads of carpets from Odus, expensive gnomish light fixtures, and of course there was Dinaden's mithril armor, magical artifacts with mysterious runes, not to mention the many bejeweled weapons and pieces of armor, on the odd occasions Din was pursuaded to take them out for the locals to admire. Sometimes the merchants even had the temerity to interrupt him while he was eating the evening meal. That was a big mistake.
The salesman was still rattling on: and an expeditious application of your holdings towards the new shipping routes being established would no doubt be highly With a snort, the other man pushed the first aside, and spoke:
Bah, Meritrus, do not bother master Gahalantine with your prattling. He is one that deserves better company, and only the finest things that Freeport has to offer. And such have I for you, Dinaden. He produced a small leather pouch. Go ahead, open it! Dinaden opened the pouch to find a fancy black eyepatch, made of the softest hand-tooled leather, and encrusted with a ring of sparkling diamonds around the outer rim. A gift, from his lordship the Duke of Freeport, Sir Edmund Lucan. At the name, Dinadens back involuntarily went ridid, his lip curled. What need do I have of such things? Dinaden asked curtly. The messenger put up his hands defensively, continued his patter. It is a simple matter of reconciliation, mlord. The Duke wishes to bury the hatchet over past misunderstandings between himself and Scarab, and you are the most settled member of Scarab in Freeport, spoke the messenger. Dinaden fingered the eyepatch briefly, appraisingly. The gems alone were worth more than a suit of armor but no, he could not accept it. Dinaden was reminded of a halfling saying Jayfoot was fond of: Ye cant shake Innoruuks hand and say your only kidding.
And Sir Edmund Lucan of Delrey was an evil man. A proud, selfish knight and politician, Dinaden and his brothers in Scarab had sadly watched his rise to power throw a shadow of oppression and base morality over what was once the most free and prosperous city in all of Antonica. Since his return to Freeport, Dinaden has been disgusted to see the slow but inexorable degeneration of local culture under the rule of Sir Lucan. It had been a long time since Dinaden had been to Freeport, and what he found upon his return had greatly saddened him. The previously honest and friendly Freeport citizens now lied and stole as a matter of habit, and would as soon spit on you as hail a stranger just into town from the long road.
Thinking back, Dinaden remembered how, in earlier days, Scarab had tried political and then more direct measures to keep Lucan from gaining control of West Freeport. All of those measures had failed. A month after Dinadens retirement, and with Scarab and their allies occupied in the lands of Kunark, Lucan had consolidated his power by declaring the North Freeport city council dissolved, and declared himself Mayor and Lord Protector of the City of Freeport. With his loyal horde of militia thugs discouraging all complaints at this manuever, no one had dared oppose him.
The Duke would be honored to enjoy the pleasure of your company as well, Mr. Gahalantine, the messengers voice broke Dinadens reverie. A banquet is scheduled for this Saturday, in the Hall of the High Priests at the Temple of Marr, to commemorate the installment of the newly appointed Bishiop of Freeport. The messenger looked out of the corner of his eye, spoke conspiritorially: All of Freeports leading citizens will be there, including I'm told, Miss Antonia. It is not a great secret among Sir Lucan's court how you feel about her," he finished with a wink.
Din dropped the eyepatch back into the pouch. I really cant Accept the gift, or attend the banquet?! snapped the messenger, suddenly less solicitous. Neither. I have matters aplenty to attend to here. Give my regrets to the Duke. The messenger regained his composure; a mask of pleasantness fell over his features. Well, I do hope you will reconsider. Jendl does put on a most excellent banquet. Dinadens face blanched.
What did you say? Jendl? Who is Jendl to be interfering in matters of the church? demanded Din. William Jendl was the captain of Lucans raggedy militia, a man more famous for his skill at lying and womanizing than for keeping the peace. Why, bite your tongue, rogue, his Grace Jendl has just been named the new Bishop by his lordship the Duke! replied the messenger.
Dinaden sat down quickly. He felt as though he was going to be physically ill. One such as Jendl could NOT be allowed to rule the church. It was an abomination. Din was thankful that Cloud and Peabodi no longer came much to Freeport. Seeing Jendl sitting on the throne of Marr would have broken their hearts. Still, Dinaden knew what he must do. He gathered his composure, forced his voice not to quaver with the disgust he felt. Clapping his hand congenially on the messenger's shoulder, Dinaden appeared to reconsider. Well, Jendl and I go way back, way back indeed. Why dont you tell them then that I will be attending afterall...
After learning of Jendls planned banquet the week before, Dinaden had immediately went to see Luxy and Gyst, two of Scarabs leaders who were at the time having dinner in the chambers of the Inner Circle of Scarabs HQ. Using their magic, they contacted Jayfoot. Dinaden knew that Jayfoot could help gather information on Jendls plans. Jayfoot had come as quick as he could. Sneaking into the Freeport Militia HQ, Jayfoot had brought back discouraging news. Jendl was guarded by at least a dozen alert and well-armed guards. Besides that, there were magical wards that even Gyst had never before covering Jendls personal quarters.
Din had not really considered a direct confrontation with Jendl regarding the propriety of his becoming Bishop, yet this news was still discouraging. A simple application of some of Jayfoots less tasty "recipes," delivered on the point of a dagger, would not be the answer, thought Din with a small chuckle. Jendls servants had made quite clear in follow up conversations in the past week that he alone of Scarab would be able to attend the banquet, as seating was quite limited. Din suspected grimly that this was perhaps not the only reason they wanted him there alone. What to do, what to do Din had always been a staunch supporter of Scarab, always a good follower, but planning was not his forte.
Throughout the week, Dinaden talked to many guildmates that filtered into Freeport. Hawke favored forming a war party to storm the Temple shortly before the banquet began. Maybe in his younger days, Dinaden would have agreed, but now he felt that such a direct approach might be suicidal. Blackrabbit was all in favor of poisoning Jendls food. True, that would be a fitting medicine for one so scummy, but Din also was reluctant to do this. Ravenn and Shadowbane came up with the very clever legal defense that would prove that Jendl was not entitled to become a bishop in the Church of Marr or of Freeport. But Dinaden was no lawyer, and he did not trust himself to remember the convoluted arguments and fancy words that Shadowbane was keen to rehearse with him. Finally, Ozwyn suggested something that seemed almost foolproof. Yes, how could that go wrong, thought Dinaden as he clapped Ozzy on the shoulder in thanks.
Dinaden Gahalantine walked down the stairs from his room into the main hall of the Jade Tiger. Resplendent in his cobalt blue platemail armor, Dinaden adjusted his left bracer. It had seemed almost a shame to put it in a box after he had retired from active adventuring last year. Such blessings were meant to be used he thought with a smile.
The main hall of the Jade Tiger was busy as always on a Friday night. Two of Scarabs bards, Lochlan and Kitsu, played a duet. As Dinaden had, they had seen enough bloodshed for one life, but still served Freeport and Scarab as their gifts allowed. Kitsu strummed the lute and Lochlan sang an old song he had written:
Im a soldier of freedom in the army of the man
For we are the chosen, we're the partisan
The cause it is noble and the cause it is just
We are ready to pay with our lives if we must
Gonna ride across the river, deep and wide
Ride across the river to the other siiiiiiiiide
And certainly there were evil forces afoot, not just in Norrath, but in Dinadens adopted hometown of Freeport. Jendl was slated to be installed as Bishop of Freeport at a banquet to be held at the Temple of Marr at dusk that evening. Dinaden had fought for many things in his life, and sometimes he had not been sure he had done what was right. Who could really say with certainty what was best sometimes? But now, there was clearly a call to fight an obvious evil, right in his backyard. With a wistful look backwards towards the tranquil scene of his beloved Inn, Dinaden walked out into the cold Antonican night.
Wrapping his polar bear cloak about his massive shoulders, Din walked to the Temple of Marr. Even in the lengthening shadows of evening, it was still quite a sight. Cheered slightly by this symbol of good, Din walked up to the main gate. The guards stationed outside recognized him and moved their pikes aside so he could enter, which he did, with a slight frown, wondering since when was the largest church in Freeport guarded with cold steel. After chit chatting and having his hand shook by various politicians and businessmen (after which feeling like he needed a good bath) the guests found their seats along a massive wooden table in the great hall of the Temple, perhaps 200 of Freeport's prominent citizens, and Dinaden took his place among them.
Jendl entered, clad most inappropriately in white clerical vestments. Friends, associates, citizens of Freeport, I bid you welcome. Then, Sir Lucan DelRey entered, clad as usual in silver and black platemail, the perpetual scowl on his face melted briefly as he nodded to his favored corrupt officials, whores, petty politicians and leaders of criminal enterprises. Wasting no words of too many syllables, Lucan addressed the assembled throngWe are happy to see all of you here to pay tribute to one of our best and brightest new leaders, Lord Jendl Von Snivelpont. My message to you tonight is simple; he is now our Bishop, and a fine Bishop he will be. I have appreciated all his good work in stabilizing Freeport against the actions of the worthless ruffians that call themselves heroes and defenders of democracy, and although he has not been a church leader in the past, I am sure he will be a good bishop. We expect full obedience from all Freeport citizens as you have given the church and myself in the past. Now, let us sit together and eat. With that blunt and simple introduction, Lucan sat down in his massive throne and started to eat messily from a large platter placed before him.
Dinadens own meal smelled divine. A sweet smelling smoky sauce was drizzled across a mound of roasted meat, and a flagon of honey mead was placed before him. Spiced potatoes were sliced an arrangement that was supposed to look vaguely like the family crest of DelRey. Dins mouth watered. With the hungry look that only a very large warrior can give food, Dinaden reluctantly stood up, as his time to act was finally at hand
Dinaden stood up. Several people looked up from their food. Clearing his throat, Dinaden addressed the crowd. He remembered Ozzys words. They were true. Without the publics support, even a brutal ruler like Jendl could not rule. Without the slightest hesitation, Dinaden spoke what he knew must be said: May I have everyones attention? Before we get started with the meal, I also would like to give my tribute to Jendl. By your leave, milord. said Din, trying not to choke as he addressed Lucan with far more respect than he deserved. Lucan peered suspiciously at Dinaden. It would appear rude to deny him the opportunity, and so he said Of course, Lord Gahalantine, but keep it short, I am hungry. The assembled dignitaries laughed politely at this.
Dinaden stood back from the table a step, spoke resolutely I would just like to start off by saying what a wonderful choice Lord Lucan has made in selecting Freeports new bishop. Magnificent judgment, milord! Simply stupendous! Such a record of public service! Such spirituality! After all, after the fire of 876, who organized the widows and orphans home? Oh, wait, I guess that was Sir Juris of the Paladin Guild, wasnt it? Well, still, when the temple here needed refurbishing, who do you suppose was so good as to donate the money? Of course, it was our good Sir Jen oh, no, wait, that was guild SCARAB, I forgot, I forgot. Sir Lucans eyes narrowed dangerously and Sir Jendl eyed Dinaden with no small amount of suspicion now, but still Dinaden continued.
Still, one cannot fault our lords magnificent record of public service! When the merchants asked for the taxes on exports to be lowered, what did kind Sir Jendl do? Well, as I remember it, he killed the leader of the Freeport guild of Dying and Weaving, hmm, yes...Well, lets see now, I do seem to recall ONE good thing that Jendl has doneremember when that annoying traveling nun lady was bothering everybody last year? Sister Mary Nightingale? With her self righteous message that we should love each other and give to the poor and be humble and honest? Pfaugh! Who could stand that crap? Jendl served us all well when he denounced her as a heretic and ran her out of town! Then thought better of it, chased her down, and beheaded her! Yes! Thank you Jendl! Din struck his palm with his fist for emphasis. What a man! What a mighty fine man we have as our Bishop now! One cannot but be overwhelmed by the sheer virtue and upstanding spirit of public service and quiet spirituality in such a man! A fine man of the cloth to be sure! I am sure you will all serve him as his fine history does inspire you, as will I.
With that, Dinaden sat down and began eating his BBQ pork. It was quite tasty. He pondered that perhaps he should have thought through the next part of his plan a little better. There were only 2 ways out of the main hall, and they were each blocked by at least a dozen guards. The assembled VIPs gaped. Only Bob, the Stable King of Freeport, who had been kicked in the head by one too many horses, thought that it was actually a speech in favor of Jendl. Everyone else simply stared, mouths open, waiting to see what result this blasphemy would have. Sir Lucans face was turning a nice shade of purple. He leaped to his feet. How DARE you, swine?! Such slander against the honorable leaders of our fair city will not go unpunished!! He stood seething, not quite sure what to do next.
Jendl however, was more of a man of action, especially when the odds were with him. He scowled as he stood to face Dinaden, his white gloved hand stabbing a finger at Din accusingly. You will pay for this, Gahalantineyou and your filthy SCARAB brothers!
With that, Jendl parted his clerical robes and drew his sword. Dinaden heard a clink of armor behind him. Din turned quickly, his heart in his throat. Somehow Lucan had got behind him, and now he brandished his long, wicked looking sword in a distinctly threatening manner. The politicians and businessmen looked on aghast, then, almost as one, ran like hell, sensing correctly that this was likely in the near future to become a rather unpleasant place to be.
There were at least a half dozen guards on either side of Jendl, and more closing in on either side. Sh@t!!! With Lucan in control of the temple, there could be no hope of rescue from the Paladins of Freeport. Its payback time, you dog~! hissed Lucan, closing in with an evil grin on his face. The guards on either side of Din closed in as well, reluctant to get to close to the warrior despite their numbers. Din shrugged, slipping out of his mithril swords harness, letting it fall to the floor. Lucan and Jendl pulled up for a minute, confused.
In that instant, Din crossed his arms in front of him and drew his Langsaxes, hidden under his dress surcoat, and with a yell, whirled and lunged straight at Lucan. Lucan swatted aside Dins first attack, but Din did not intend to stop with one slash. In quick repetition, he slashed out again in a blinding flutter of steel. It was a combination Dinaden usually used when fighting half a dozen foes, but all the strikes were aimed directly at Lucan. Again and again Lucan blocked, a look of smug confidence on his face, and not a single blow was landed on the foul cur. Dammit! Lucan was even better than Dinaden remembered from the last time they had fought.
Lucan counterattacked, but Dinaden leaped instantly to the side, brought down a blade on Lucans wrist with a quick, precise snap. Grabbing his wrist, Lucan limped back a step with a grimace of pain and a curse. Pressing the attack, Din jumped forward. But as he landed, a guards mace smacked Din right in the kidneys. Even through armor, that hurt. Din flopped forward, somersaulting quickly as half a dozen spears and swords sparked against the stone floor where he had been a split second before. Swearing, Din whirled around to face his adversaries. At least 20 guards were clambering over the huge table, drawing their weapons and kicking fruit and bits of roast pig out of their way. Jendl circled around the right side of the table, Lucan went to the left. He was trapped. Despair started to set in, and Dinaden gripped his Langsaxes a bit tighter. Well, he wasnt going to go down without a fight
Then, with an ear shattering crash, the huge oaken main doors to the great hall exploded with a great ****KRAK-THOOOOM!!!!*** Dinaden dove to the floor as jagged shards of wood bounced off his armor. Clambering quickly to his feet, Din looked to see what new hell awaited him. The door was filled with smoke, dammit, what was going on?! Then, Dinaden heard a familiar battle cry, and a grin of relief spread across his face. It was SCARAB!!! Through the door charged Lord Hawke! Immediately behind him came Caradin, then Jayfoot, Ozzy, Peabodi, Cloud, Maska, Sedrick, then Corvax and Gyst, with more coming behind them! With a shout of joy, Dinaden spun and rejoined the fray with renewed confidence.
With a yell, Caradin vaulted forward and booted two guards in the head before landing beside Dinaden. They plopped to the ground, unconscious (the guards, not Cara and Din). Dinaden grinned, sheesh, youre going to get yourself hurt Cara, put on some armor! Din joked. Armor? Thatd just slow me down! replied Caradin with a grin. He flipped off to the side, his hands and feet dispensing a deadly flurry of blows to any guard so foolish as to wander near enough to the whirling monk. Blackrabbit and Jayfoot slinked off into the shadows. The guards didnt seem to notice excellent.
Din stepped back to face Jendl. He was not quite the warrior Lucan was, but was still deadly. Jendl lunged, and Din blocked, then grabbed Jendls sword arm, jerked him forward. They were nose to nose. How dare you try to stop us, Dinaden? You know you dont have a prayer. Hissed Jendl. Save your prayers for yourself, Jendl grunted Din, throwing him backward against the table. OOF! Jendl went down in a heap, clutching bruised ribs. With a wet THWAP!! A guard smacked Din upside the head with a large fish he had picked up off the table. WTF?! Ow!! That was the most painful thing he had felt all day! Din picked up a chair with his free hand and smashed it over the fish-guard's head, who plopped to the floor, still clutching his scaly weapon.
Before Dinaden could regain his composure, Lucan shoved aside a guard and swooped in with a huge overhead swing, aiming to split Din in two while he was still distracted. Din looked up in horror, trying to bring up a blade to parry, but he knew he was too late. Lucan suddenly grabbed the back of his leg, and he staggered backward, yelling in pain and dropping his sword. Din saw Blackrabbit roll into a somersault behind Lucan, spring to her feet quickly, wink once at him and happily bounce away, wooping with glee as she hamstrung another guard with the same attack she had just used on Lucan, her little daggers slashing out from behind with deadly speed. Din wiped the sweat off his forehead. Phew!
Out of the corner of his eye, Din caught sight of Corvax and Gyst. They had joined hands and were chanting. Dang it Corvax, woo Gyst on your own time, were busy here! yelled Din. Bloodyy elves. He hoped they knew he was kidding. Din would hate to end up as a frog or some such. Gyst raised a single eyebrow in his maddening way at Dinaden. Then, the chanting stopped and they raised their hands, still joined, over their heads. A strange sparkling of enchantment appeared in the air before them and with a rising ominous tone, all the air in the room seemed to suck into a point right in front of the two mages. With a shriek, a huge ball of fire shot out from the sparkly magic portal into the biggest group of guards. *******KABOOOOOOM!!!!******* The room shook with reverberating sound, and a smoking boot hit Din in the side of the head, all that remained of the guards. Corvax turned a smug smile Dinadens way, then snapped his fingers and turned invisible.
But Dinaden was all too visible, and the battle raged all around them. More guards poured in though a side door. But more SCARAB reinforcements were wading in as well! Cloud and Sedrick flanked the guards, harrasing them and healing Dinaden and Caradin, who was by this time bleeding from a dozen wounds. Luxy zapped Jendl with her favorite spellhoo hoo~! Take that~! she wooped. Hawke waded into a knot of heavily armed guards, lashing out furiously and shouting something about Marrs wrath. He slew 2, then another, but 4 more jumped on top of him, bearing him to the ground. Din kicked a guard he was fighting out of the way, dove to help Hawke, but Peabodi was already on the scene. With a shout, Pea brought down his fiery two-handed sword down with a great whoosh of flame, and the guards were reduced to smoking piles of ash. Dinadens eyes boggled for a second, then he turned to parry a new attack.
Ozwyn was guarded by a knot of Scarab warriors, grimly crouched over the comatose forms of Nwalka and Laha, chanting the words of an advanced healing spell, getting a large roll of bandages from his backpack. Selgus was there, taunting all comers and fending off charge after charge, and could that be two large warriors all in blue, as was Dinaden it was Ravenn and Trystelnar! They stood together, SCARABs side by side, forming an imposing wall of steel in front of Ozwyn, who was now chanting nearly nonstop, safe behind them, healing all the SCARABS and even keeping Kyliar and Drue alive, who had wandered in together, better late than never, and were already bleeding like only elven rangers can do. Despite his many wounds, Kyliar slashed out with a curved elven sword, and Drue ignored his own injuries, whirling a extremely vicious small pike in deadly arcs that cut down guards right and left.
Wheres Lucan? shouted Din. He was wounded, they needed to finish him off. Over there! Jayfoot pointed. Lucan had slinked off into a corner, and was clutching a jeweled scepter. Jayfoot reached into his tunic, drew out a thin dagger, and whipped it end over end at Lucan, but at the same time, Lucan raised the scepter, muttered something, and disappeared in a swirl of magic. The dagger clattered off the wall harmlessly. "DAMMIT!!" shouted Jay.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, the battle stopped. The guards threw down their weapons, quickly backing away and raising their hands in surrender. Dinaden looked around in confusion, not understanding. His heart beat wildly. What was going on? Then he saw. Before Cloud, Jendl lay dead, his head separated from his body. A pool of blood spread around Jendl's now dark red clerical robes. Cloud quietly sheathed his sword, a look of grim determination on his face, despite a single tear that trailed across his delicate elven features.
Hawke, Dinaden and Jayfoot held council with the Paladin Guild of Freeport after Jendl was slain and Lucan gone into hiding. They were honorable knights, and would rule for a time. With the approval of the United Merchant Guild and The Freeport City council, the Guildmaster of the Freeport Paladin Guild, Sir Cameron Elysian, was named Acting Lord Mayor of Freeport, and was to rule until the Freeport City Council would appoint a new Mayor in six months. For now, all was good, and Dinaden returned to his beloved Jade Tiger Inn in time for dinner.
When he got there, many SCARABs were already there. Candles flickered in sconces, and almost all of his serving girls were working that night, distributing liberal amounts of Dinaden's own recipe honey mead to all assembled. Din smiled happily. Hawke grinned as he caught sight of Dinaden. There he is, the troublemaker himself! everyone laughed, and Dinaden laughed in spite of himself and accepted the mug of ale that Hawke handed him. Din found Blackrabbit. She was sitting at a small table, talking to Gyst and Trystelnar. It wasnt often he was saved by a rogue, and one barely taller than Jayfoot at that. He touched her shoulder. She looked up at him to see what he wanted. Thanks for taking out Jendl back there he smiled at her. It was nothing she grinned dismissively. He sat down, nodding at Gyst and Tryst. They all drank and talked late into the night. Dias was on the small stage, strumming away on a happy song
Turnin all the night time into the day!
And after all the violence and double talk, theres just a song in all the trouble and the strife
Yeah ya do the walk
do the walk of life
Chipmunk--80 warlock/450 tailoring, 438 inscription
Rasi--70 druid/375 herbalism
Dinaden--70 paladin/375 smithing
Pasha--70 rogue/338 leatherworking
Chipshamani--48 shaman 275 alchemy
Chipmunk--80 warlock/450 tailoring, 438 inscription
Rasi--70 druid/375 herbalism
Dinaden--70 paladin/375 smithing
Pasha--70 rogue/338 leatherworking
Chipshamani--48 shaman 275 alchemy
Dinskin's First Adventure and Dinnar's Last
The scene: Three years ago, outskirts of Clan Runnyeye.
Dinaden crouched behind a pika bush, gesturing his two younger brothers to do the same. Dinnar and Dinskin crouched, their banded armor clinking softly. Dinaden glanced back at them. They were an impressive pair, twins, and each was 3 inches taller than Dinaden. They fidgeted anxiously, fingering the hilts of their swords, probably wondering why they had to go around skulking behind bushes, as if they were halflings. Dinaden smiled. So young, and so eager. He remembered when he had been like that. Each of his brothers wore newly made banded armor. Dinaden had finished Dinnar's suit only 3 days ago. They had then mounted up and rode to Rivervale.
Their objective however was not the quaint halfling town but the vile headquarters of the Clan Runnyeye Goblins. Dinaden had raided Runnyeye several times previously as part of Lord Hrothgoomba's Knights, a mercenary company he had recently departed. Dinaden felt his brother's training had finally been complete - at least as compete as it could be in non-combat situations. Thus the trip to Runnyeye. As warriors of Halas, it was time for his brothers to test themselves against real opponents. Clan Runnyeye was now believed to be considerably weakened from the battle to take Runnyeye Citadel, a small castle nestled deep underground. Dinaden and his company of warriors had been repelled, and not without cost, thought Dinaden, rubbing a fresh scar on his bicep and thinking of his brave friend Halteff. But now, halfling scouts reported that Runnyeye was in great disarray, and the goblin leadership splintered and bickering amongst themselves. No better time for a raid, thought Dinaden. "Stay here." With just those words, Dinaden drew his twin Langesaxes and stalked out into the open, approaching the goblin sentries posted at the mouth of the cave.
The four goblin sentries looked at each other. Guttural squawking that passed for the goblin tongue passed between them. Dinaden approached until he was less than 30 feet from the opening of Clan Runnyeye. The goblin sentries apparently decided a lone warrior was killable, for they drew their crude swords and charged, and goblins never attack unless sure of victory. Dinaden tried not to chuckle, waited until they were within 10 feet of him to bring his twin blades into a defensive position. The goblins quickly surrounded him, more babbling passing between them; apparently arguing over which would attack first. Dinaden waited patiently, apparently unconcerned with his encirclement. A keen observer would have detected, however, that Dinaden's eyes were darting back and forth, keeping track of the location of all of his foes, his feet repositioning themselves subtly, his wrist quickly flipping over one Langesaxe until it was held backhanded, as a dagger.
The goblin behind him stabbed out suddenly. With only the quickest glance backwards, Dinaden parried with one sword. The other three goblins leapt at him as he parried. Din whirled around to slash at the goblin that had attacked, then parried another slash. Another goblin he tripped, dodging its clumsy swing, and the last Dinaden stunned with a vicious backhand swing of his guantleted hand. In a flurry of flashing steel that neither Dinskin or Dinnar followed, Dinaden laid about him with a series of slashes. The blood of the four dead sentries stained the dirt of the cave entry. Dinaden gestured casually for his brothers to come out of their hiding place. The whole 'fight' had taken all of ten seconds.
Dinnar and Dinskin followed Dinaden into the cave that was the home of Clan Runnyeye goblins. Dinskin pulled out a torch, lit it. Looking about, they saw broken down scraps of furniture and the rotting remains of several small unfortunate forest creatures, but no other signs of life. "We go in. Keep quiet and your wits about you," Dinaden muttered. They walked around the bend to the right, passed another opening that led into the Gorge of King Xorb, and down a large flight of stairs. They met with no resistance, or even sign of habitation. Perhaps they had killed more of the Runnyeyes than he had reported to Lord Hrothgoomba. They continued walking downwards. The air took on a chill, and Dinnar wrapped his polar bear pelt around his shoulders more tightly. Dinaden lit a torch of his own. "Where are they, brother?" asked Dinnar. "I don't know, tis strange to find this foul pit so empty," replied Dinaden. A half hour later, they had already passed by the point that Dinaden had previously decided they must not pass, an armory of sorts which Din knew was the home of a Runnyeye Warlord, one of the few goblins whose fighting abilities Din respected. "Ha ha, they are frightened of us, Dinaden," Dinskin guffawed. Dinaden doubted it, but wondered where all the goblins were.
Without warning, Dinaden felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. Reaching back, it was as he feared, a small dart was lodged in the space between in his helm and gorget. Dinaden pitched the dart to the floor in anger. A second later, the room was crawling with goblins, all decked out in ratty leather armor and swinging a vicious array of spiked weapons. All was chaos. Dinaden parried wildly, dodging and slashing six times for every attack that his brothers attacked, but he could already feel himself weakening, his arms getting heavy - the early phases of paralytic nerve poison, he knew. Dinaden tried to stay in front of his brothers, but they were too quick, and the battle too chaotic. Din lost track of where Dinskin and Dinnar were; his world was a haze of blood, steel, and goblins.
Dinaden had already counted at least four goblins that he had killed, but still more poured into the large hall from three directions. It did not look good. Dinnar had a huge gash on his sword arm and was bleeding badly. Dinskin cut down a goblin with an earth to sky cut that Dinaden had taught him not a week before, but two more goblins took the place of their fallen brother, and Dinskin was forced to retreat. Dinaden's mind worked furiously, weighing their dwindling options, trying to think of a way they could escape. Dinaden cursed himself bitterly. He had been a fool to bring his brothers here for their first hunt. Nobody knew the true status of the Runnyeye clan, and it was now clear that they still had more than enough warriors to kill all of them. Din saw Dinnar's sword get knocked aside by a large, well-muscled goblin. Had he not taken enough time in showing Dinnar proper parrying technique? Dinaden's felt despair and concern clench around his heart. Dinnar was already covered with a multitude of bleeding wounds. Dinaden parried three more attacks and dispatched another goblin, but as he watched out of the corner of his eye, a cruel blow from a goblin club caught Dinnar in the side, doubling over the young warrior in pain.
There was only one way any of them were going to live to see another day. Dinaden roared "Get behind me, NOW!!!!" then lashed out with renewed fury, lunging wildly to distract the goblins from his wounded brothers. Dinnar limped behind Dinaden, holding his right leg, a look of terror in his young eyes--but he still gripped his sword. Dinaden kicked out viciously, simultaneously turning aside a stabbing attack, and heard the sharp crack of a goblin skull shattering. He quickly shifted in front of Dinnar, saw his brother was safe for the time being, then looked around for Dinskin. A horrible scream. It was Dinskin. He lay broken and bleeding on the cave floor. Dinskin tried to crawl away from the huge goblin stood over him, whose bloody sword was raised high for the killing blow, but it was clear that his fate was sealed, until -
"NOOOOO!" Before Din could stop him, Dinnar knocked Dinaden aside, sprang forward with a ragged scream, a primal barbarian sound that defied pain and cried out to defend his twin. What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. Dinaden reached for his brother, but it was too late. Turning from the man on the ground, the goblin warlord whirled and swung his blade at his new assailant in a vicious arc. Too late, Dinnar raised his hands in mid-leap to defend himself. The blade cut deeply into Dinnar's neck, and he flopped to the ground with a horrible thud. Dinnar writhed in agony as his blood splashed on the cold, unforgiving stone floor.
What happened next, Dinaden only later remembered. At the time, he knew that he was probably going to die, but he had to make one last attempt to save them. Din leapt forward, parrying the goblin's attack in midair and cutting him down as he landed. His tired muscles bent over to pick up Dinskin, flung him over his back. Grim faced, Dinaden reversed his grip on one of his swords and threw. The langesaxe whirled end over end to lodge between the eyes of another goblin. With strength born of adrenaline, Dinaden grabbed Dinnar's bloody collar, jerked his brother to his feet and began running. He bowled aside a cluster of surprised goblins that were blocking the exit, and dragged Dinnar's unmoving body along as they shot out of the cave and kept running, running, until there was only pain, and exhaustion, and the numbing inevitability of the poison.
Dinaden awoke in a tiny bed. His legs hung over the end of the bed by a good foot and a half. Thinking that this was a particularly ironic Hell, Dinaden tried to sit up to see what new terrors fate wished to visit upon him. A tiny woman pushed him back to the bed, applied wet cloth to his forehead. "Woah there, fella, you aren't ready to get up again just yet." A halfling nurse, Din realized. He must have made it to Rivervale, which meant.... Dinskin walked into his room, not wearing his armor, but fit with an arm cast, a leg cast, and a small army of bandages. Dinaden looked around for his other brother. "Leave us, Mira," stated Dinskin. The nurse left them alone. "Where is Dinnar?" inquired Dinaden. Dinskin's eyes filled with tears. "He's... he's gone, Dinaden," Dinskin managed to choke out. Dinaden layed back on the small pillow, closed his eyes. A small sigh escaped his lips. With difficulty, he blinked back his own tears, clenched his jaw. Dinskin needed his strength now, and as the eldest in a barbarian warrior family, Dinaden could not allow himself an emotional breakdown when his family needed him most. A thousand things ran through Dinaden's mind, but he knew no appropriate words. He spoke anyway: "He was... a good man, a brave warrior," Dinaden said. But his words sounded flat and empty, even to his own ears. "Damn it Dinaden! Is that all you have to say? Our brother is DEAD," pleaded Dinskin. Despite his pain, Dinaden sat up in bed, then gritted his teeth as he forced himself to stand. Without another word, Dinaden hugged his brother close, wishing there was more he could say.
3 years later ....
Dinaden sat with Treewhisper on the grass of the hill behind the Jade Tiger. The sun was beginning to set. He sipped a honey mead. "And so, I'm afraid Dinskin never forgave me, Tree. Shortly after Dinnar died, Dinskin left the path of the warrior and went to study the way of the shaman from the elder one in Halas. We have hardly spoken since that time, but I hear from him from time to time." Dinaden drained his mug, wiped foam from his goatee with the back of his hand. "I know now that Dinnar's death was not really my fault. It was nobody's fault - but it taught me one thing. No matter how well equipped one is, no matter the odds, this world is a dangerous place, and death can come for you in the blink of an eye." Din took Tree's hand in his own, spoke gently: "I know that sometimes I am overprotective of you, but as I watch you grow, I... cannot help but be reminded of my brothers. Forgive me if I seem out of line sometimes, but when I see you defending Tunare's creation against those that would destroy it, sometimes, my mind returns to that cursed day in Runnyeye."
Dinaden sucked down another honey mead, sighed in contentment. Dinaden's haggard face then brightened slightly. "On the other hand, you are now far stronger than Dinskin, and you don't need my fool advice in most things." Dinaden beamed a smile at Treewhisper. Tree blushed slightly. "But I cannot help but want to be by your side. Know this, I shall never leave you, my love." With that, Dinaden pulled Treewhisper into his embrace and kissed her tenderly, and Treewhisper sensed that whatever demons Dinaden had battled with in the past, the future was now bright.
Unnamed Poem
By Dornen, 6/8/99
My chords can soothe, my notes enrage,
On fields of battle, or the stage.
My music heard on winds blown strong,
To fight the fights and right the wrongs.
Take heart brave souls, your cause is just,
Companions near that you do trust.
For foes to fall and evil perish,
Scarab's virtues must you cherish.
And if today the battles' won,
Know the struggles' just begun.
But, should we bleed and then do fall,
Others too will heed the call.
So with your swords and words of power,
Righteous wrath on them do shower!
Falcan's Last Interview
Lorigan's Notes: This is the last that was heard from Falcan. I have written this in My perspective in hope that the readers will get a clear view of that happened that night.
I walk down the dark street, towards the dark-blue house at the end of it. I have heard so much about this house and its owner, but have yet to see him in public. The street grows darker but somehow warmer...strange on this cold winter night.
The house is said to be of magical origin, but no one has ever proved that. From the outside it looks like a normal two-storied stonehouse, made by blue polished rock...a strange rock that I have never seen before, and it feels like it is radiating and watching me.
I walk through the small grove and notice that there is a myriad of summer and winter flowers growing there. I stop to see them, they are all blooming at the moment. "Winter and summer?" The cold winter breeze in the city somehow stops when it reaches the grove, a small wind pushes the treetops a little but no flower is moving.
I stop in front of the black-toned door. There are carvings of dragons flying through the air, a beautifully made carving. It takes some time before the door opens to greet me welcome, a dancing light flows out through the door and a strongly built, red haired, and red eyed individual stands before me in the doorway.
I cannot seem to remember such a face, for some reason the memory of his face slips my mind each time I don't look at it. "The master is expecting you," he says with patronizing voice.
He shows me inside, taking my coat. As I walk inside the house, I feel like I am entering a castle. The lounge is huge, about 30 feet to the ceiling. A leaved door is situated at the rear end of the hall right between two stairs leading to the second floor. "This place must be enchanted...." I think to myself.
"Follow me," again with this patronizing voice, strange for a servant.
He looks at me like he knows what I am thinking but says nothing to me. We walk through the door down a long corridor and stop at yet another leaved door. "In here, please!" he says with stress on "Please". As he opens the doors, a warm wind reaches my face making my eyes pinch together.
For a second, I thought I saw a large shadow of a dragon on the back wall of this great room. The shadow is cast from a fireplace on the right side of the room. In front of the fireplace two chairs are situated and an individual is sitting in a blue robe. "The Great Wizard" I think. The doors are closed behind me and I notice that I am in The Great library so many scholars have told me about.
There are bookshelves along all the walls reaching all the way to the ceiling far above. This library is said to contain almost all the knowledge of the world and many people have tried in vain to gain access to it. On the back wall there are long shelves of spellbooks in blue covers. I remember a story from my childhood, about a young man who came to learn from this master of magic.
He was told never to open any of the books with that cover. One day he did... and the next day he was found walking about, blabbering about all kinds of strange things. He died a horrible death from fear two weeks later, never reaching sanity after having read those books.
The man in the chair is a strongly built man. He doesn't seem to be very old, but still... the records indicated otherwise.
Suddenly he says to me: "Come... sit in the chair". His voice is so gentle and steady... an earthquake couldn't disturb it.
I walk over to the chair and sit down. "A glass of wine?" he asks. "Yes - please..." I say. He hands me a glass of wine - tasting like honey, with a smell of roses.
"So... you wish to write the story of my life? Many have asked me off this, and now I sense that it's time for me to tell..."
He says in a thoughtful way, "Where shall I begin...?"
"Where shall I begin...."
My childhood was a quiet one - I never had anything to fear, my mother and father protected me with their life. When I was around 18 I felt it was time to leave the nest. I left my parents behind, took my spellbook and a sword, and left my humble home.
I started to roam the land for "evil" creatures and after some time I met a great warrior. He taught me all there was to know about fighting and under his "wings" I quickly became a master of swordmanship. We were mercenaries and during a battle he was killed by a mage in a black robe. This mage was a warlord and he was well known in my time.
He was a twisted man and he killed all standing in his way. After my mentor died I fled the battlefield and for many months I wasn't myself. One day a man in a Beautiful robe found me and took me to his house. He told me something I never forgot. "You are a special child and the people you know as your parents, aren't."
What were he talking about, my mom and dad aren't my parents? He told me that my brother and I had been separated at birth and given to two different men who both swore to defend and raise us like their own. I couldn't believe this. I quickly left him and went home to talk to my parents. But when I arrived I saw a horrible sight.
My childhood house was on fire and as I came close I saw this black wizard again. In front of my eyes he killed my parents in a Fury of Fire. After this he left and I ran down to try to help them. But there was nothing to do... they were dead. I buried my parents and took what little there was left in the house. I went back to the man in the green robe....
For years I studied under him, learning all there was to know about magic - and not to touch my master's books... many fingers were burned trying to read those." I notice a smile on the Great Wizard's face. "When some time had passed he told me to go as far north as possible, to the north of the world and even further. There I would find my real kin."
"But this is another story - I won't tell it now" he says with a glance in his eyes.
After having spent many years getting to know my real parents, I went out to find my brother. I went back to the main land and for many years I sought my brother. I fought many monsters and evils in that period and that was the time I learned about a glorious guild that - like me - was fighting the evil of the land.
SCARAB it was called and after two months I met a member. Already at that time I felt like I knew him. He was an honest and hard fighting man. He brought me to The Great Lady Hawke in Britain. After having talked my case I was enlisted into this mighty guild.
Soon after I was brought to their tower, and here I met the rest of the guild. There were many names among them... the two Guildmasters, and lovers, Lord and Lady Hawke - along with many mighty co-members. All of them were well known in the world and I felt proud to be in the company of these noble people. After some time I was officially a member and a great ceremony was held.
In time I happily found out that my search had ended! My brother was a SCARAB - the very same person that had enlisted me into SCARAB was my brother. For many years we fought evil and evil fought us, but we always ended up as winners. Many evil guilds fell to us, and many people honored us in the land.
But five years ago something terrible happened, a terrible incident in the realm of the Gods was changing the World. The Gods were occupied with other things and evil was taking over much of the land. The mighty SCARAB could not withstand and it was decided to disband the guild. All agreed to stay together as friends and keep in touch.
A little while afterward, the mighty Hawkes was out hunting and had been gone a long time... I was sent out to search for them. After hours of searching I came upon the trail of them. The trail led to a cave I had never seen before and a cold and dark breeze came out of it.
I looked into the cave to see the Hawkes surrounded by enemies and as I was about to help them the earth swallowed them. At first I thought it was an earthquake but I suddenly saw the Dark Wizard again. And the remains of a spell was floating in the air, a spell I had never seen or felt before. He disappeared along with his followers - the AoD.
I went home and told everybody what I had seen. Then one morning I discovered an ancient scroll about a keep that had once belonged to the High Evil of OSI.
I left my friends and family behind and started searching for the keep, and after a year I finally found the remains of it. But to my horror it wasn't a ruin anymore, I found a castle that radiated with evil. I entered and walked through the cold corridors. After having killed several guardians I felt a presence I had felt times before. And there I found him, the Murderer of my foster parents, my former mentor and the mighty Hawkes: The Black Wizard.
He looked at me with his dark eyes and I think I saw a smile on his face. "So you came." He looked at me and said, "I should have killed you and your brother when you were born...."
"Why?" I asked.
"They never told you? Hahahahaha," his laugh echoed. "Nevermind, I will kill you and hunt down your brother as well!" A magical battle began. He was strong, so very strong. But in the middle of the fight he must have forgotten I was a swordsman as well, because he came too close to me and I put my sword in him. In his dying breath he mumbled a spell unknown to me and said, "I will return to dispose of the two of you!"
Then he disappeared in a blaze of blue light and all there was left was some ashes on the floor. I returned home, relieved. Finally all came to place... except the "curse" he had said never left me. So for the past two years I have dedicated my time to studying the ancient books in my library and to be well prepared if he should ever return.
Have you any questions?" he asks me.
But as I was about to start, another figure enters the room. He doesn't enter through the door... actually I didn't see from where.
"My brother... what news do you bring?" Falcan asks this new figure. The two brothers put their arms around each other. "I bring no news, only worries," he responds.
"You have felt it as well, I will assume?" Falcan says.
"Yes, brother," he replies.
Suddenly the room starts to shake and a blue portal appears. Out comes a black cloaked person.
"You...." Falcan says.
"Yes it's me...." The figure says. "And it's time for my revenge. My Gods have given me this last chance... so now you die...."
A multicolored sphere shoots from the figure's fingers and flows towards Falcan and his brother... but as it comes closer, Falcan starts to cast a spell. When the sphere surrounds them it has become a single color - white.
As I see the two brothers being dragged down some sort of portal, their bodies are changed into the shape of dragons. The sphere disappears and the room is dark. I look at the dark figure and expect him to kill me as well but he is occupied by something else.
Suddenly he yells out: "NOOO!!!!! It cannot be...! Failure once again!!!!"
He turns to something inside the blue portal. "Please! Let me have one more chance...." As he is about to finish his sentence a huge bone claw reaches out and pulls him through the portal. The portal closes and all is quiet. Suddenly the walls start to shake and I run out through the door, down the corridor and out the house.
The house is swallowed by the earth and all there is left is the memory of a house that used to be....
Lorigan's Notes: Ad this point in time it is unknown where Falcan and his brother are. Perhaps in the future more will be known.
The beautiful writings of Frostfyre:
A Barbarian's Tale
By Frostfyre, 7/17/99
Chapter One
The air was crisp, almost chilling, even to a barbarian born and raised in Everfrost. The outlying areas of the frozen tundra that was the province of Kunadral lay before Frostfyre, seemingly unending and as foreboding as a frozen hell. In spite of this, Frostfyre was striding determinedly against the wind, and would let nothing deter him from his goal: A friend in need.
As Frostfyre’s crossed the icy surface, his mind wandered, back to earlier days when he and his friend, Lilla, had spent time together hunting Pumas, Fire Beetles and Bears in the outlying areas of Freeport. He and Lila had become friends as both belonged to the Guild SCARAB, and had hunted together many times. Frostfyre had become protective of his fellow barbarian (though she could fully protect herself), many times sacrificing his own safety for that of Lilla (and she for him). Frostfyre often referred to Lilla as his ‘Little Sister,’ a sibling term used by many within the Guild. Monotonously trudging forward, his mind drifted backward....
"Hail, large one!" A light, singsong voice reached Frostfyre’s ears in a manner akin to a wind chime. He turned to see who was speaking in such lilting tones, but when he swung around, he did not believe his eyes.
"My face be higher.." The tone had changed dramatically, but the essence of the voice remained the same. "Do not force me to smite you with my Great Staff," the voice said. Frostfyre was a bit unnerved. Standing, right in front of him, was a fellow barbarian. A female Barbarian. A lovely female Barbarian. An annoyed, lovely female Barbarian. "If thou dost utter any comments other than ‘Hail,’ I shall be forced to cause thee great harm," as she was smiling as she said this, Frostfyre was almost sure she was jesting. Almost. Frostfyre was staring in amazement. Not that she was a Barbarian, not that she was, attractive, but the female in front of him had a presence that he found most alluring. "My luck," she moaned," Mute. By The Tribunal, I must have been an Orc in a previous life."
"Nay, " said Frostfyre finally," I be not mute. I be Frostfyre. I know not any Barbarian named Mute. At least none from my Clan." Frostfyre was very serious, as his lack of a sense of humor was well known in the Guild.
"Very funny," she laughed as she slapped the barbarian’s upper thigh," My name is Lilla, and I have sought thee out for a reason, large one." This made Frostfyre curious to find out why she sought him, but was still confused as to why she was laughing at him.
"Be it my kilt?" he wondered to himself." Art there parts of me exposed? Ahhh, these new customs are very confusing. My head hurts."
The female continued, "I be applying for membership into the great Guild SCARAB, and was told that thou art a member. This was true, as a party of SCARAB members had saved Frostfyre’s life, and he was invited to join their esteemed group. "Was told to seek thee out to hunt and learn the SCARAB ways. Thy name was given to me by Lady and Lord Hawke as they said we each possess qualities the other does not, and so may create a balance that may prove beneficial to us both." I
"Huh?" Frostfyre grunted as the words swam in his head.
"The Lord and Lady believe we would make a good team," said Lilla, revising her previous statement.
"Oh. Why didst thee not just say so?" His head still hurt.
She laughed again. Frostfyre could not get angry for some reason. He could not quite explain it, but her laughter had a calming effect on him. He enjoyed her company already. . He still wondered why she was laughing, though. He checked his kilt just to make sure. At this she fell to the ground, and laughed harder. Try as he might, Frostfyre could not get angry. The only thing he could do was...laugh. And laugh, and laugh. The more he tried to stop, the more he laughed. His laughter was reminiscent of a bear’s growl, only more fearsome. As the sound emerged from the depths of his stomach, it growled and grumbled and exploded full force from his lips as if it were the only thing his body was capable of doing. As is the case with barbarians, whenever they do something, they do it with every part of their being. Laughter is no exception.
Lord Ozwyn, a member of SCARAB’s Inner Circle, walked by, and stopped short in his footsteps, staring at the sight of a 6’7" Barbarian on the ground, in tears, laughing all by himself. "Art thee in pain, Brother FROSTY (this being Frostfyre’s nickname in the Guild , though actually, his REAL nickname, unbeknownst to Frostfyre, was Windbreaker)? I heard the bellowing sounds of great suffering and pain, and felt obliged to find the source of such discomfort."
"Nay .... heheheh ... Lord Ozwyn ... heheheheh.. my lit.. er ... eheheh .... my brother..." he giggled in a most unbarbarianlike manner. "I be fine. I merely hath been amused by my new friend."
Lord Ozwyn tilted his head, perplexed by this statement. Then nodded, as another figure became visible when the huge barbarian rose to his feet. Lord Ozwyn bowed and. hailed Lilla. "Ahh…. a thousand pardons milady. I didst not see thee behind my preponderous friend here. I have heard many great things about thee, milady and wish thee good luck, not only in thy membership application, but also ...Lord Ozwyn rolled his eyed toward the figure of Frostfyre, still hunched over, heaving but making no sound as he tried to stifle the all consuming laughter.
"Thank thee, Lord Ozwyn. I believe I will need all the good fortune I possibly can get, considering.. "said Lilla, then flashed a smile so broad and pure that Lord Ozwyn could tell she already had taken as much of a liking to the Shaman as had the members of SCARAB (although many would not admit it, at least not with the barbarian in the room).
After Lord Ozwyn had taken his leave, and Frostfyre had finally stopped laughing (he still wasn’t sure why he was laughing, nothing was funny as far as he could see), Lilla started anew.
"My large friend Frostfyre," Lilla said as she began looking in her bag," be thee ready to begin a hunt? Hast thee need for any supplies?"
"Nay, milady, I be always ready for an honorable hunt. What shall be our prey?"
"Well, thee wouldst be the judge of that, my friend. "said Lilla, her hand now holding a soft brown square of some sort of food. Not a type of bread, as it was too soft, but not quite a pie, as it was also too rigid. A bit flaky, almost a biscuit ..... Frostfyre was getting hungry. Well, actually, hungrier.. Frostfyre was always hungry.
"Mmmmmmmm...... Frostfyre ran his grimy hand over his unshaven face, trying to act deep in thought while eyeing the female as she munched on the brown morsel. "Methinks Fire Beetle, or perhaps even Black Bear, mayhaps shouldst be our beginning targets. What say ye, milady?"
"Amyfing youuu shay," she giggled as she spoke, realizing her words were muffled by the food in her mouth.
"Huh?"
A Barbarian's Tale
By Frostfyre, 7/17/99
Chapter Two
A shadowy figure appeared from nowhere, shattering Frostfyre's daydream. The figure was recognizable to the barbarian .... Gnoll. Hated, reviled killers of the woman he loved, Frostfyre has always taken every opportunity to kill these disgusting doglike beings. They had taken his love from him, but they would not take his friend. Frostfyre crouched behind the snowdrift upon which the Gnoll was standing. He cast a quick glance behind, making sure the snowshoes had done their job masking his trail. They had. The Gnoll seemed to be an advance scout, meaning there were more to follow. Perhaps many more. Frostfyre's heart began to pump with anticipation and bloodlust. This would be a good day after all. A good day to die ... for the Gnolls, that is.
Frostfyre surveyed the lay of the land while the Gnoll scout did the same from his perch on the snow bank. It had come through a small pass into the valley they now shared. Perfect. Frostfyre readied his massive warhammer. The warhammer, christened Skullcrusher, was a gift from his father on the day Frostfyre left Halas. The head of the huge mallet is carved in the shape of a skull, complete with long teeth and empty eye sockets, indeed an intimidating sight to behold. A whisper of a rush of air was all the Gnoll scout heard before its skull split from the vicious blow delivered by the enraged 300-pound barbarian. The snow turned red. Once again, the warhammer had proven the truth of its naming.
From the precipice atop the Mountainside overlooking the small pass through which the expected Gnoll party would have to travel, Frostfyre prepares for a long wait. Generally, scouts were hours perhaps days in front of their expedition, as they invariably were in hostile territory. This raiding party, however, seemed to be the exception, as within two hours, Frostfyre heard the unmistakable shuffling associated with Gnoll footpads. A small party as well, consisting of a total of twenty Gnolls. The leader, apparent due to his treatment of the others, was in the middle of the pack, flanked at all times by six Gnoll Guards. Frostfyre couldn’t believe his eyes. He recognized this disgusting Gnoll. It was Ragnork, the Gnoll General in charge of the raid that killed Chillseeker, the Gnoll who cowardly retreated into the bowels of Blackburrow when defeat seemed imminent. The thought of that terrible day filled him with a rage that could only be quenched with the death of this vile creature. This would be his last day on this planet.
The party was still a good ten or fifteen minutes from reaching the pass. Frostfyre knew he must meditate for the proper spell, and he may just have enough time. Sitting down, he covered himself in the snow, creating a warming blanket effect and hiding himself from any overly curious animals on the mountainside. He closed his eyes and began his prayer to The Tribunal....
Minutes later, Frostfyre heard the Gnolls as they entered the pass. Patience, patience. Must wait for the right time....timing is everything his father had taught him.
The Gnolls were right where Frostfyre wanted them. As they approached, he came out of his makeshift hideaway, and began the mystical gestures, which brought forth the energies needed for the spell he was casting. Then the words escaped his lips….."Kanandi..Ekirijfka..Malgarazi!!" bellowed Frostfyre, his body spasming as a solid wall of flame spewed forth from his very being. The firewall was jettisoned across the pass to the opposite mountainside, causing a violent explosion. This melted an immense portion of the frozen wall, and sent it crashing into the pass. Of the twenty Gnolls that entered the pass, there were five left alive. Four guards and Ragnork the Evil One. No contest.
Wielding his warhammer as if it were but a hand tool, Frostfyre became his namesake, a relentless, icy storm that nothing could abate. The four guards were dispatched with amazing alacrity. The first one, attacking without thinking, Frostfyre simply swung and let Skullcrusher perform its wonderful magic. The snow went red. The second and third, more cautious than the first, attempted to attack from either side, alternating their swings with bites from their powerful doglike jaws. Not good enough. Implementing the "Dragon Whips Its Tail’ maneuver taught to him by his father, Frostfyre crouched down, making himself a smaller target, then whipped Skullcrusher to one side, destroying the knee of one attacker. Then in one motion, used the momentum of his warhammer to raise himself back up, Frostfyre released his grip on Skullcrusher’s handle. As Skullcrusher raced through the air straight for the other Gnoll’s ugly face, Frostfyre was already breaking the neck of the Gnoll whose knee he had destroyed. Three down. The remaining guard stood between Frostfyre and his real target. A feint to the guard’s head with Skullcrusher was the Gnoll’s downfall. A swift blow to the windpipe and it was over before it began. There remained only one……..Ragnork.
The putrid Gnoll General began to plead for his life in the unintelligible speech that is common to the tick bearing dog people. Unheeding, Frostfyre descended on Ragnork as would a Snow Lion on a defenseless fawn. Merciless. Unfeeling, but for the pounding in his ears. The blood rage that enveloped him was driving him mad. He had no thoughts save KILL…KILL…KILL!!!!!!! Ragnork then changed his strategy. When Frostfyre was within a few paces, Ragnork sidestepped. Frostfyre raced past, allowing the Gnoll to slash his side with razor sharp claws. Frostfyre tumbled to the ground. The snow turned red, but this time, it was with the Shaman’s own blood. Frostfyre turned, put his hand to his wound. He looked at his fingers, then touched the bloody fingers to his lips. The coppery taste merely incensed him more.
"This be the day you die, monster!!!" Frostfyre knew the Gnoll could not understand him, but also knew the tone would be recognized. "By The Tribunal and for Chillseeker!!" cried Frostfyre as he charged. Frostfyre flung Skullcrusher with all his might, following close behind his flying warhammer. The Gnoll ducked, as expected, but also slashed at Frostfyre with a dagger it had hidden on its torso, which was unexpected. For the second time, Frostfyre had been surprised, and this time the wound was deep, very deep. He backed away from the Gnoll, injured where the Gnoll was not, tired where the Gnoll was fresh. The odds were not in his favor. Ragnork began to move in slowly. Frostfyre saw his opportunity as the Gnoll was showing great caution. Quickly chanting " Ohnas turbil kantfsks", Frostfyre confused the dogman, and it stopped for a moment. The healing spell worked, and Frostfyre felt well, felt revitalized. He wanted Skullcrusher, wanted to fell the handle of the mighty warhammer in his hands, but it lay in the snow twenty meters away, and the Evil One was between it and him.
"Onkhableth Fandakre Judkethnba!" yelled Frostfyre. The Gnoll brought its hands to cover its eyes, but too late. The spell blinded the Gnoll, allowing Frostfyre to lunge, attacking the Gnoll with a barrage of kicks a punches that left the monster in a heap, gasping for air. "There is only one way to satisfy my thirst for vengeance and the Tribunal’s thirst for justice.." Frostfyre said to himself, as he walked to his warhammer. He picked up Skullcrusher, walked back to the figure on the ground, and waited. When the Gnoll regained its sight and saw Frostfyre standing above it warhammer at the ready, it once again began its pleading cries. The snow turned red one more time.
Frostfyre crumpled to the ground. The pain and anguish he had kept inside for so long could no longer be controlled. He began to weep. His body convulsed uncontrollably, his sobs a cacophony of relief echoing in the small pass that was to be known hereafter as Frostfyre’s Revenge. He wept for hours. Then he slept through the night. No more Gnolls appeared. When he was fully rested, he once again began his journey to Blackburrow, homeland of the Gnolls to rescue his friend, Lilla.
A Barbarian's Tale
By Frostfyre, 7/17/99
Chapter Three
Once again the incessant walking triggered his memory. He remembered the first time he and Lilla went hunting. Always talking, always cheerful, Lilla almost got the two killed by a Black Bear. The thing was resting, making no sounds. Lilla was remarking on the beautiful flora and fauna. Frostfyre became distracted when Lilla shrieked in surprise as she had found a rare herb she used in her healing potions. Her scream of delight startled the bear, and it attacked Frostfyre from behind, stunning him. The bear began clawing him while he lay defenseless. Lilla reacted quickly, summoning a Fire Spell, charring the filthy monster’s hide, sparing Frostfyre any further attacks. The problem was, now the bear turned it attacks to Lilla…..
She bravely staved the thing off with her spells and potions, but soon her Mana began to wane, and things looked bleak. Then Frostfyre regained consciousness, regained his senses, and retaliated. One swing of the mighty warhammer. The grass ran red, but in his weakened condition, the blow did not kill the monster. It slashed at Frostfyre, then turned back to finish off Lilla. With all his remaining strength, he raised Skullcrusher, then brought it crashing down on the vile thing’s ugly head. It was over. Frostfyre turned to Lilla to make sure that his fellow barbarian was all right, but she had already begun an incantation to heal. Surprisingly, the spell healed Frostfyre, not Lilla. After both had recovered, they skinned the bear, and found some gold coins and a rusty dagger in the thing’s stomach. They made the trek back to Freeport to trade the items for a hot meal. Any excess money would be given to the Guild. Soon they would be able to make their own armor and weapons. After some meditation and practice, they would also be able to summon their own food and drink.
They made their way back to the SCARAB GuildHall so as to rest and regale the Guild members with their horrific tale. Frostfyre told Lord and Lady Hawke of the bravery with which Lilla had performed, not fleeing when facing the Black Bear alone, but standing and fighting even when she could have perished. Soon after, Lilla was made a full member of SCARAB. She and Frostfyre became fast friends and went on many a hunt after that day.
A Barbarian's Tale
By Frostfyre, 7/17/99
Chapter Four
Once again, Frostfyre’’s concentration was broken. Not by a figure, not by a sound, but by a place. THE place. Blackburrow. Home of the Gnolls. The HATED Gnolls. The place where he would find and rescue his friend. Frostfyre crept up to the cavernous maw that was the entrance to Blackburrow. He had been here before on similar business. He hated this place. He would see it destroyed one day. He stripped off his snowshoes and made ready for a stealthy entrance. Covering himself with black tar to better hide himself, he entered the lair of his enemies.
The security had been beefed up since Frostfyre had been here last. Now there were two sentries patrolling the mouth of the cave and four guards at the entrance prime. The sentries were no problem as they never knew what hit them. Two quick strikes of Skullcrusher and the ground turned red. The four guards would not be so easily downed, however. Frostfyre reapplied tar to his exposed body parts while plotting his strategy. He approached the entrance with great caution, using all his talents to make as little noise as possible.
Wanting to give no notice of his arrival, FROSTFYRE left his lantern behind and crept slowly along I the dark tunnels of Blackburrow. While trying not to, he could not help but cast his memory back to the day this episode began…..
Three days ago, Lilla had heard of a family in need of healing. They were not an important family, but that was of no matter to lilla. Someone was in need, and she would see to it that the need was satisfied. The family lived on the outskirts of Everfrost, quite near Blackburrow, but near enough to Barbarian population that the Gnolls generally stayed away. This day, however, they didn’t. Somehow, the hated Gnoll were alerted to the fact that a barbarian healer would be in the small town. When Lilla arrived, a Gnoll patrol was waiting. The village was razed and nothing was left standing. Lilla was captured and taken away by the Gnolls and put into slavery. A youngling from the destroyed village had hidden and was spared death. He reported the destruction to the High Council in Halas, who in return reported it to SCARAB. As fortune would have it, or perhaps The Tribunal, Frostfyre was in Halas that day, visiting some friends of his family, and heard of the incident. As the messenger was carrying news to the SCARAB Guildhall in Freeport, Frostfyre was already on his way to Blackburrow. In his mind, the visualization of the hardships Lilla would have to endure were more than he could stand. He could not wait for Guild approval. He had to leave NOW. That was three days, four lost trails, and 45 dead Gnolls ago.
Frostfyre paused. There was light up ahead. Noise as well was abundant. Laughing, if one could call it that. A Gnoll’s laugh was like a dog coughing after having eaten a large ball of Polar Bear fur. Taking a cautious approach, Frostfyre peered around the last corner into the open area of Blacburrow, the center of the Gnoll Empire. There were literally hundreds of them. Most injured, waiting to be healed by the figure in the center of the mass-Lilla.
She looked terrible. She obviously needed rest. Her haggard expression showed a lack of food and rest. The Gnolls allowed her enough rest to regain enough Mana to perform one heal, no more. This kept her formidable powers at bay and allowed for the healing of their injured troops. Not one of the monsters paid any attention as Frostfyre crept along the back edge of the large dank cave until he reached the bridge in the center. The crowd was intent on watching the performance of the new slave, so not one Gnoll noticed as Frostfyre readied a powerful healing spell,
All of a sudden, a bolt of mental energy wracked Frostfyre. "HELP ME!!!!" The words were felt more than heard. It was Lilla, undoubtedly, but where did she get this mental power? A powerful Shaman she was, but mental telepathy? "Why I be getting the message," pondered frostfyre,"I be no telepath." But receive it he did, and it gave him an idea. Summoning all of his concentration, Frostfyre attempted to send a message back. Nothing
"By The Tribunal!!" he thought, "once more. Concentrate, stupid barbarian." He began to sweat with the concentration. "Agggghhh. Not so loud, Frostfyre. I hear you." The sweetest words he ever ‘heard.’ Even in his head, they took on the lilting tone associated with Lilla. Having established a connection, he relayed his plan to Lilla, forgetting for the moment his amazement at the fact that he had just accomplished something he should not have been able to.
Lilla continued to heal injured Gnolls, her effectiveness steadily diminishing with the strain. The faint glow in from the bridge went unnoticed by the Gnoll conclave. A Gnoll Leader dog-coughed an order and Lilla was brought to her knees by a leather thong tight around her neck. As the Gnoll Leader turned, Lilla stood upright, gesturing and chanting, appearing as if awakened from a long restful sleep. The Gnoll Leader collapsed as if suddenly hit with a monstrous plague. Spasms racked its digusting body as it flailed around on the ground. Explosions began to rain down on the Gnoll horde. Lilla was completely forgotten in the confusion as she crept around the edge of the cave to the exit. One scrawny guard took notice, but thought to take her himself. A deadly mistake. Lilla performed a technique that Frostfyre had learned from his father and had taught her, " Serpent Seeks Its Path," as she grasped the Gnoll’s left forearm, snapped it back in the opposite direction, snapping it. At the same time, she clamped her free hand over the dogman’s muzzle and landed a forceful kick to its ‘sternum,’ knocking it senseless. With the thong that had kept her captive now in use as a whip, Lilla was ready to fight her way back home, but she knew there was something else to do first.
She began to cast more explosive spells, as Frostfyre had done before her. This once again distracted the Gnolls, and allowed Frostfyre the time he needed to race to the exit where stood his Guildsister. The spells cast by the two Shamans were by design on the fringes of the mass of Gnolls. As Lilla cast her spells, a mound of dead Gnolls began to appear in front of the opening. As more Gnolls attempted to get to her, more died, causing a larger mound. She only hoped Frostfyre could make it before the mound covered the exit as they had planned. She cast a glance in Frostfyre’s direction. He was using that damnably ugly warhammer of his to split open the head of yet another dogman, and was running in her direction. Then he was there. They both backed into the small tunnel opening, killing Gnolls with their spells as they fell back. This had the desired effect, as soon the opening was almost totally covered. A quick fire spell ignited the dead bodies, sending the remaining live Gnolls into a panic. The Shaman pair smiled at each other and turned. They faced 3 of the largest, ugliest Gnolls either of them had ever seen.
Frostfyre’s mind raced. Low on mana, tired from the effort, what would they do? Something tugged at his mind, but he tried to shut it out. "Not now," he thought," I don’t want to remember my childhood now. Not NOW!!" He turned his head to say something to Lilla, but she had turned to face the third Gnoll, who had crept around behind them. As she swept her hair from her shoulders, Frostfyre caught a glimpse of a tattoo on the back of her neck. His mind swam……
He was only 5 summers old. His mother had mentioned something about her brood sister coming to visit. As he was so young, Frostfyre had never asked what that meant. He accepted it as any child would, as fact from his mother. In several clans, including Frostfyre’s, young maidens are chosen to breed with the Great Shaman in order that the line of Shamans never die. These maidens would then marry and have families, raising the progeny of the Great Shaman in their household. This was no disgrace. Rather, it was an honor to be chosen to further the Shaman lineage. Two such maidens were Crystalgaze and Almath. They met after their choosing and before the mating ritual in which they would be with the Great Shaman of Everfrost himself. They were secluded for a few weeks. There were quite a few maidens chosen, as this increased the odds of children being born. The two became fast friends and vowed to remain in touch after they had their children, and to support the other in case one did not.
Both had beautiful children. Crystalgaze a boy, and Almath a girl. Though they lived in separate clans, the two young mothers stayed close. They both married soon after, being very sought after as mothers of possible great Shamans. Crystalgaze named her son after his propensity to be happy one moment and angry the next. Frostfyre she called him. Lilla was the given name of Almath’s daughter. The two children played together as they grew, but when they turned 4 summers the visits became fewer. The two mothers knew that their lives were moving in different directions and so decided on an action that would solidify their friendship and the destiny of their children. The half brother and sister were given tattoos on the nape of their necks to signify their lineage. Tattoos of a Snow Lion, regal ruler of the frigid wasteland that is Everfrost peaks. The two children had not seen each other since.
When his mother announced the coming of her brood sister Almath, Frostfyre did not realize of whom she was speaking. Upon meeting his half sister, there was a dim recollection, but being children, the moment passed. They did however, remember how to play. Play they did. In the snow, around the glacial peaks of Everfrost they romped. The second day of the brief reunion was marred by an unfortunate incident. As the two young barbarians played ‘Capture the Wolf’s Tail,’ a gang of three older males wandered by. Known bullies, these three saw an opportunity for some fun. They were wrong.
The three took the wolf’s tail from Lilla and dangled it in front of her. She became angry and threw a punch at the smallest of the three, bloodying his nose. The bullies became violent after that, striking Lilla and knocking her to the ground. Frostfyre helped her up and whispered to her "back to back, whip-o-snap." The three bullies surrounded the two youngsters. As they closed in, the two intertwined their arms. Lilla lifted herself up, balancing on Frostfyre’s back and began to kick. She kicked one bully, knocking the breath from him. Frostfyre swung around, evading a swing from one of the aggressors, allowing Lilla to kick him in the throat, immediately dropping him to the ground gasping for air. The third, seeing a cause lost, turned to run. "Now!" yelled Lilla. She dropped her feet, and at the same time, Frostfyre flung himself backward. Releasing their grip, the force of their movement sent Frostfyre into a full backflip, which landed him in front of the fleeing bully. Completely surprised, the bully was not capable of defending himself against the two. They took back the wolf’s tail and ran home to tell their parents what they had done. That was ten summers ago.
"Back to back whip-o-snap," whispered Frostfyre to Lilla. She threw an astonished look at him, then nodded. In thirty seconds they stood alone, on the ground lay three large Gnolls. They did not speak on the trip back to Halas, but once safe in the home of Frostfyre’s family, tears flowed as if from waterfalls. Embraces were exchanged by all. Tattoos were compared, Frostfyre’s looking more like a Kodiak Bear due to his larger frame, whereas Lilla’s appeared to be more of a hairy puma, Nonetheless, the tattoos identified them as brother and sister.
The two left for Freeport and the SCARAB Guildhall the following morning. "What a tale we be telling to our Guildbreth…fellow guild members." grunted Frostfyre. "Aye," agreed Lilla," a tale of Sibling Chivalry."
The Quest
By Glolfandil, 8/26/99
"Hail, elf friend, let us stop! Want a draught of real draft? Or do you insist on drinking that elvish wine?" Grimden, dour as any dwarf, had kept up the fast pace across the desert. The dwarf stopped as Glolfandil did, just 2 steps ahead, and looked out across the desert, drinking deep and long from his leather quaff. The heat rose across the sand, shimmering, creating mirages of water pools. "Well, Grim, me thinks we have quite a distance afore we reach the swamp. If we avoid those foul orcs, then perhaps we shall live to fulfill the quest!" Glolfandil, a tall half-elf, broke into a handsome smile and laughed musically - tones of soft harp emitting from his chest as he laughed. The dwarf added, "Aye, then to find that foul Froglok stronghold, kill a young tadpole then back again. Let us not be slain by giant folk either. Remember they wander this desert as well."
"Yes they do my friend, but as long as I can play this spellsong, we shall move too quick for them." Glolfandil finished off his pint of elvish wine - dark and oaky, like the forest near Kelethin. He laughed once more, brushed off his armor and began to palm-beat his drum, softly then quicker. A dazzling light broke out around Grimden and Glolfandil. Their legs begin to strengthen and burning energy filled them. Then in a quick lope, Glolfandil broke out across the desert, Grimden right behind him. Desert sand rose behind them -all for miles could see their dust. But it did not matter, no orc would catch them - not even a horse could run as fast as they! Nay, an eagle might not fly that fast. They ran like cheetahs but for miles not yards. They ran with a full breath, never failing, with the breeze of air cooling their face. They barely touched the desert floor.
The sun began to fall to the east. "The mountains are not far, Glol. We are near the swamp. We must have run 200 miles today. A half fortnight's march if there ever was one!" Glolfandil laughed, musical tones again emitting. "Aye, Grim, there is some use for a bard after all. But thee shall earn your treasure as well when the swords start to swing. Never forget that I sing, I dance, I love and I play. But thy blade shall ensure we live." Grimden grimaced. The thought of swimming through the mosquito and snake infested swamp begin to fill his mind. "Perhaps we should rest in the canyon before we enter the swamp. Start fresh and anew at day's beginning in the morrow." Glolfandil smiled and nodded.
The last few miles to the canyon unraveled before them and at last they came to desert's end and the forest - the forest filled with orc marauders no less. "We shall run pass the orc camps as quickly as we may. Then to the canyon. We shall camp along some cave or old, forgotten abode when we get there, " declared Glolfandil. Through the forest they ran. It was a lightly treed oak forest. Cleared long ago by orcs, it was easy to run. The pair ran within spitting distance of an orc camp. The guards never knew they passed, but Grimden and Glolfandil could hear their harsh laughter and feel the heat of their large camp pyres. "Probably laughing at the end of some poor troll babe, " Grimden remarked, "Mayhap a froglok's death - let us be swift so it is not about our own demise." Grimden grinned slyly. At last, 2 hours past dark, the two adventurers came to the near-safety of the canyon. A few moments later, Grimden stretched out asleep, pack and armor still on, as Glolfandil watched the small campfire crackling warmness across his face.
The two friends ate a breakfast of dried beef and crusted elf wafers in silence. The next several days would be unpleasant. Poisonous snakes, alligators and carnivorous frogloks infested a stagnant, gas-filled and rotten forest. Glolfandil's running song would not be of much use there. Quicksand and alligator nests (sudden deep round holes underneath the murky waters) were too frequent. Careful, slow steps would be required. They packed up slowly and began to walk down the canyon path. The canyon descended slowly. The air humidified till breathing was an exerting exercise. The trees changed from pine and maple to cypress, water oak and cedar. The soil became dark and loamy, each footprint began to sink into the earth and become filled with black water. The smell changed. From piney, fresh highland air to sulfurous, thick and decaying. Every dead thing seemed to wreak and fill the air. Then the canyon disappeared and a great misty, watery forest lay ahead. One final drop from the canyon, and the swamp's great maw engulfed all things. No wind blew.
They trodded east, still silent, trying to skirt the depths of the swamp. It was an impossible task. "Gukluk lies southeast of the swamp. Shall we skirt the swamp to its entrance or hunt the swamp itself?" asked Glolfandil. Then the battle began. Frogloks, hiding in the watery blackness, leaped out and began to hop-run toward the two. Grimden pulled his axes out and ran to meet them. "Khazad!" the dwarven warrior shouted. Glolfandil pulled his dagger and sword and readied himself for the onslaught. They came in waves. Three leaped clumsily at Grimden and in cat-like fashion Grimden avoided their blows. Three chops with his dwarven axes and three Frogloks were howling, missing arms and legs. Glolfandil slipped his dagger into the side of one Froglok, avoided the claw of another and chopped down with Dragon's Claw, his magic sword, slicing into the skull, then brains, of another froglok. As quickly as it began, it ended. Three Frogloks lay dead. Several more retreated into the swamp. An alligator made quick meal of a severely wounded one.
"Let us leave this foul place and be hurried," Grimden shouted. "They may come back with frog friends." "Aye, dwarf, they may at that," the half-elf agreed. Quickly and fruitlessly searching the frogloks for their quest item, the pair half jogged, half waded the swamp. Hours of sweating, difficult wading through mud and water later, they fell exhausted onto a small islet. They slept unguarded and oblivious to the dangers.
Hours later, Glolfandil awoke, bird-sized mosquitoes feeding on him. "Argh, you devilish, beasts! Away with you! He swatted one with his backpack. It staggered slightly then buzzed off for a less aggressive prey. " "Never such mosquitoes have I seen," Grimden rumbled. "I think we need blade and armor to battle them rather than a flyswatter." They laughed heartily at such thought. "The Lord and Lady would surely find in their hearts to award us both with a medal if we slew those beasts!" blurted out Glolfandil as he lay, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Aye, mayhap we should call Andrak and Frostfyre to battle them," Grimden guffawed. There, on that islet in the middle of doom's own swamp, the two roared in laughter till the thoughts of another day's dreaded travel entered their minds. They ate, spirits more upbeat, then washed as well as they could.
The swamp swallowed them once more as they continued their journey. The sun and humidity beat on them this day. "Perhaps this swamp has its own mind!" Grimden declared. "Yesterday it fights us with frogloks, today it sends heat and insects!" "Aye," Glolfandil agreed, "It knows we are not its children. I fear it seeks to expel us from its bowels." "I do not like that analogy, Glol," the grim dwarf answered. The heat bore down on them more with every step, till the very air itself seemed a burden on them. The armor became heavier. Their clothes filled with water, boots mushy inside with warm, wet swamp cess. Yet they traipsed across the swamp till night fell once more. Grimden wiped his axes down with an oil cloth. The campfire's flames licked several fish they had caught in the swamp. The dwarf swigged another draught from his aleskin. "Two hundred miles two days before and only 20 miles the last pair of days. How far must we travel?" Glolfandil stared out into the swamp. He sipped wine slowly and nibbled on a wafer. "I would guess another day, perhaps two." He paused. "Assuming the troll bashers do not kill us. A ranger like Tialla we could use out here to avoid their kind." Grimden nodded, "Aye, Glol, but then she would have a share of our treasure would she not?" Grimden bit off a huge piece of hardened bread. "We are better off finding our own way." Glolfandil looked serious for a rare moment. "Your dwarvish greed shines through, Grim. It will not be long and we will miss both her wits and her sword." "Likely enough," Grimden yawned. "And for that, Glol, you keep watch the first shift." A second later, loud dwarvish snores rocked the swamp.
It was two days later when the pair of friends found Gukluk. It was hard for even Glolfandil's sharp eyes to see, hidden in moss and trees. But alas, it was the entrance to the Froglok stronghold. "I hear we need not go far in, Grim. There are tadpoles just inside and we should not risk going too deep." Grimden looked into the hole to the entrance. "These frogloks are worse than goblins. They must have carved this out with their own claws and fangs. It's a wonder it does not collapse!" Grimden did a few mental calculations of the weight to support ratios. All dwarves learn this before finished weaning. He paused. "Mayhap magic supports it. Or maybe its not deep. But that entrance should not stand but collapse on itself." He scratched his banded coif absently. With eyes of determination he stated, "Lets go in."
With Glolfandil leading they entered the swamp cavern. It was cooler than outside but wet and the footing was treacherous. Green slime covered a slick mud floor. Roots and snakes and worse hung from a muddy ceiling. Eyes stared from darkness beyond reach. And the constant croaking of Frogloks filled the air. "We only want their eyes, Grim. Just the tadpole eyes." The cavern wound for a number of yards, perhaps 40 to 50 before opening into a chamber. Beyond the chamber a hallway angled down. And in that chamber two Froglok tadpoles flopped in the muck. "Weapons!" shouted Grimden and hacked one down before it could move. Glolfandil quickly slit the other. He bent down over the dead tadpoles, "We look for an open iris. The Lady said only an open iris." "None," Grimden grimaced. Several hours later of ambushing tadpoles no sign of an open iris eye was found. "Mayhap we are slaying them wrong!" sniped Grimden. "Perchance, Grim. Or maybe we hunt the wrong beast. Let us delve deeper."
The hunting would not take long. A pair of froglok guards awaited them in the next room and, by them, flopped a tadpole. Grimden quickly axed the tadpole into two wiggling parts. The guards croaked a roar and leaped onto Grimden trying to tear him apart bare handed. A quick swipe of his axe cut a deep gash into the arm of one pugler. It retreated screaming a croak to wake the dead as the other leaped onto Grimden. Glolfandil stabbed with his dirk, Dragon's Fang, at the froglok. It screamed as well. Grimden silenced its scream with a chop of his axe. "Get the other," Glolfandil yelled as he chased the wounded froglok. Too late. The wounded froglok came back. And with him two more guards. Glolfandil and Grimden fiercely struck forward. Sword and dirk and axe hacked and stabbed at the guards. In less than a minute, all three guards retreated. "They seek help me thinks, Glol. Let us return to the entrance where we can fight them, backs to wall." They raced to the opening chamber and just in time. Four guards poured into the room. Grimden was nicked by a froglok sword this time. Blood poured from his right arm. A froglok fell before his axe. "Grimden, there are too many," Glolfandil panted, "Each time we wound them, they leave to get more. Get ready to leave this evil place. I will fight them till thee is out of harm's way." Another pair of frogloks charged into the room. The fighting was fierce and another fell, sliced head to toe by Glolfandil's sword, Dragon's Claw. "Dragon's Claw and Dragon's Fang strike true!!!!!" screamed Glolfandil. "Khazad!" shouted Grimden. And in unision, "Hail Scarab!" Then, as quickly as it began, the battle ended. Three frogloks lay dead. Five retreated down the hall. Both elf and dwarf were bloodied from nicks and bites. "Let us leave while we can," Glolfandil muttered.
Glolfandil turned and the pair exited, defeated, from Gukluk. "That is an evil place of cowardice!" shouted Grimden. "Argh! They retreat and get more! Why can they not die bravely and quietly and without help?" Glolfandil laughed, "Mayhap they said same of you, friend. Especially those tadpoles." Glolfandil began to strum his lute. His voice, lovely as a lark, began to sing. Blue stars of light danced around the two adventurers. And each time one would touch a wound, it would heal just a little. Grimden grinned, "I LIKE bards!" Glolfandil smiled, "I LIKE warrior dwarf friends too, my friend. Now don't you miss Tialla?"
"Hello?" a squeaky voice spoke. "Who are thee? Friend or foe?," it proclaimed. From a bush, a small gnome emerged. "Ah, these are strange places, Grimden! Bushes grow gnomes!" Glolfandil laughed. "Funny you are, bard, funny," said the gnome. "I am Grimley, a wizard. I seek the woven armor frogloks bear." The gnome wobbled to a stump and sat, indignant to the bush comment. "Well, cousin gnome, woven armor, I know not of. But there may be a few wounded frogloks in that hole seeking company," Grimden replied. Grimden drank a swig of ale. Then offered the gnome a drink who happily accepted. "We seek a tadpole's eye, with an open iris," Glolfandil stated, "It is a quest item." "Ah, tadpole's eye? Have thee not tried the swamp? They swim aplenty just yards from here," the gnome gargled in mid-drink of ale. Grimden's eyes opened wide. "WHAT!!!??? Tadpoles swim in the swamp? What rubbish is that? We were told to go to Gukluk. We traveled 3 days through this swamp!" The gnome giggled, "Maybe you were told, but tis not true. Look out there. The waters boil with their kind. Sometimes one wanders into Gukluk, but it is quickly eaten by its bigger brothers and sisters."" Glolfandil sat his lute down and pulled his Dragon's Fang from its sheaf. "Here is a coin for your troubles," he tossed the gnome a gold piece, it landed on the grass, King Antonica's head showing. A few minutes and a dozen slain tadpoles later, the eye was in a pouch in Grimden's backpack. The gnome laughed once more and began to crawl down the slippery hole to Gukluk. "I will say hello to your froglok friends," he laughed.
"So we have our quest item, Grim. Let us journey back to Freeport." "Aye, let us leave this goblin manure!" Grimden agreed. The quest was complete, the journey back long. And each night when the pair slept, they dreamed of the treasures the Lord and Lady would bestow upon them, of frogs trying to eat them, of mosquitoes larger than mountains and of a gnome, born of a bush. And the gifts, at last, were better than the dreams.
The beautiful writings of Gyst:
Gyst's Story
Chapter 1: The Awakening
The early years of my life, although this was soon to change, were quite simple and idealistic. Born in my beautiful city of Felwithe, I was nurtured and looked after with much loving care. Life was quite simple then. I wasn't abandoned by my parents and raised by a pack of wolves, like some visitors to my city claimed to be. In fact, I had so few cares and so little knowledge of the outside world that I rarely believed the stories the outsiders would tell. There were many outsiders that would visit my home from time to time. They always fascinated me, and I loved to listen to their tales, although I rarely believed them. Yet, their tales gave me something to dream about when my mind was idle, so I continued to listen.
My parents, although they loved me dearly and taught me in the principles of truth, had very little impact on my early life. You see, at a very young age, I, like all High Elves in Felwithe, was tested for certain talents, intellectual skills, and wisdom that would qualify me for admission into the circles of the High Elven Magi. I have no memory of this first test other than the fact that I passed. Shortly afterward, I entered into the Junior Academy, which, for a few years, would instruct me in the basics of the arcane sciences.
The Junior Academy became my new home, and my classmates became my new family. Although I remember much more about the Junior Academy than I do about my true family, my memory of those years is still quite vague. However, I do remember that I was a very talented student. I'd frequently finish all my assignments earlier than my classmates, and I'd spend my leisure time fishing and swimming in the crystal clear pools and listening to the outsiders tell their strange tales at the inn.
It's important to understand that the Junior Academy, being the first and most basic arcane institution, instructed all the classes of the magi. Only after graduation would we move into a dedicated study of our chosen class. But, while in the Junior Academy, enchanters, clerics, magicians, and wizards all studied and worked together. Throughout our career in the Junior Academy, we would be tested in order to determine which class would suit us best.
So, being the gifted student that I was, my mind was constantly filled with new questions about things arcane. Often, while I'd fish, I'd dream of harnessing amazing powers and going on grand adventures. From the tales I'd heard from the outsiders, I learned a great deal about powerful spellcasters. One day, an old and withered enchanter came to the inn. After serving him some of our finest wine, I talked for hours with him about his adventures. I was captivated by his stories of charming magnificent creatures and controlling their actions. Many other events similar to this happened which increased my interest in all the classes of the Magi. How I longed to be able to cast huge fireballs like the mighty wizards and to change my appearance like the elusive enchanters! While many of my classmates quickly found a favorite class, my in-depth study of each class gave me great yearning to be all of them! I couldn't choose just one.
Thus, one day, a question occurred to me that would indirectly change my life. I began to wonder that if clerics, enchanters, magicians, and wizards alike can study together in the Junior Academy, why can't they continue in that manner and learn the mysteries of all the classes together? Why can't the most intelligent Enchanter comprehend the most basic Wizard scroll? So, the next day in class, I asked this question to my instructor. Somehow, I expected her to give me a very complicated and confusing answer that I couldn't understand. However, instead of giving me an answer - despite its complexity - she rudely said that it was a stupid question and I ought to put my mind to more productive thinking.
Disturbed by this response, I made up my mind to find out the answer for myself. But how? I knew that an answer existed, regardless of what my instructor told me. After class that day, I quickly finished all my chores and sneaked into the Felwithe Library. The Library is off-limits to most people, including those in the Junior Academy, but I didn't care. I had a mission to accomplish! I "borrowed" a brewery barrel from the inn, placed it beneath the Library window, and climbed in.
I fell through the window and onto the marble floor. When I stood up and brushed myself off, I was stunned by the numberless books and scrolls on the selves and tables. I didn't know where to begin, but I guess it didn't really matter, so I started with the shelf closest to me. I pulled out a book, and only barely started looking at it when I suddenly rose off the floor! I had no idea what was happening to me. I turned my head around and saw a huge, floating mound of earth that had grabbed me by my robe. The elemental carried me through the air and dropped me on the desk of the Chief Librarian.
"What have you brought me today, Kobarntik?" the librarian said as she looked me over. "What's a youngun like you doing in here?" She smiled wryly.
I quickly scrambled off her desk, stood up straight, and declared that I had a question that I needed to answer and no mound of dirt would stop me. I soon decided that was a foolish thing to say as the elemental picked me up and threw me out the door into the rain.
That night, as I sat on my bed and nursed my bruises, I started thinking about that experience. I was amazed at the power of that elemental, and the control the librarian had over it. I made up my mind to learn more about that elemental, and the next day I stopped the chief librarian as she was about to enter the Library to start her day's work. To make a long story short, she allowed me in and showed me a few tricks about controlling elementals. From that day on, I knew I wanted to become a Magician!
Chapter 2: My First Spell
I graduated from the Junior Academy and started my training by becoming an apprentice to the great magician Jrool Levonka. I served him with dedication and thoroughness, and it wasn't long before I became immersed in my work. Although the work I did was much harder than what I was used to, I enjoyed every minute of it.
Master Jrool was an old, wise, and energetic elf - not to mention an excellent teacher. He had a very unique way of teaching me, and I learned very quickly from him. He'd often present me with an unusual task or problem, and tell me to solve it. The task would seem unrelated at first, but it wasn't long before I learned to recognize the wisdom in his assignments. I learned quickly and well under his guidance, and it wasn't long before I had the esteemed privilege to cast my first true spell.
I remember the day vividly. The air was cool and crisp from the rain the night before. When I entered Master Jrool's chamber, he was sitting at his desk with an odd smile on his face.
"Congratulations," he said. "Today is going to be a first step into a much bigger world for you." He slid a smooth piece of paper across his desk toward me and beckoned me to read it. It was a scroll - my first spell.
"What does it do?" I asked.
"You tell me," was his reply. "It doesn't matter what the spell is supposed to do. Your concentration and state of mind - not the spell itself - is the only thing that will determine if you are successful. Don't think about creating the desired result. Just concentrate on casting. Clear your mind of all your thoughts. Concentrate on the words." He then stood up and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the scroll.
I quickly got to work. I sat down in my favorite corner where the clear sunlight shone through the window and I began skimming over the beautifully scribed words. It was written in an Elvish tongue (even though I was already studying other languages to some degree) and I had no trouble reading it. I pulled out my spellbook which had never before been used, opened it to the first page, and began carefully scribing the scroll into it. As I tediously and meticulously wrote the words down, my mind drifted and I began to wonder what this spell would do. I had to catch myself several times and return my concentration to the scribing. Even though I understood the words, I could not make sense of the scroll, so I had no idea what would result. I had the impression that the spell was a Conjuration, but I could not be sure.
Finally, I finished scribing the spell, and I began my first attempt to cast it. I cleared my mind of all other thoughts and began reading the words off the page. As I concentrated on each word, and as each word escaped my lips, I could feel something - some power - flow through me. As I approached the end of the scroll, I could feel a definite tingle in my fingers. After I pronounced the last word… nothing happened.
I was heartbroken. I knew I must have done something wrong. I spent the next hour studying the scroll and my spellbook to make sure I'd scribed it correctly. I could find no errors. I came to the only conclusion left: I must have done it too slowly. I knew that if I wanted to complete the casting, I'd have to memorize the entire scroll. So, I set to work immediately and worked long into the night to memorize the spell.
The next day, after a very rewarding sleep, I resumed my attempt. Once the spell was memorized, I began reciting the words. I felt a mystic and wondrous powers surge through me. I could not tell where the power came from. It seemed to come from all around me, as well as within me. As I approached the end of the chant, my hands were tingling like they were on fire. Finally, as I said the last word, green light began pouring out of my fingers and swirled around me. Flashes of light also leapt from the ground beneath my feet and went soaring toward the sky. I spun around in amazement and watched the lights dance around me. When the lights faded away, I looked back down into my hand. I was holding something - I had performed a conjuration! The object was black, crumbly, and it smelt like the back room of a Barbarian fishing hut.
"What is THIS?" I exclaimed.
"It's supposed to be bread," a voice said. I looked around, and suddenly bubbles started swirling out of the air and Master Jrool appeared. "You did better than most, you know. Most of my students have come up with something much more similar to manure on their first attempt. Still, I don't recommend eating that thing in your hand. You still need much practice."
Over the next few days I practiced my spell diligently. Master Jrool taught me how to pronounce several key phrases more correctly. With each cast, I'd come up with something slightly different, but each result looked a little bit more like bread.
Eventually, I conjured a complete loaf of bread. It was still black, but it smelled like bread to me, so I took my first bite into my creation. It took several bottles of Elven Wine to completely rise the vile taste from my mouth. Master Jrool could only laugh, although I failed to see what was so funny.
Within about a week, I was summoning loaves of bread - edible versions this time - as often as I could. I'd sit on the bridge to Felwithe and offer my bread to passing travelers. Of course, I'd have to warn them that it's an acquired taste and the bread tended to spoil when you camp, but I still couldn't resist showing off my new spell. I ate my own summoned food (and water when I learned to conjure it) as often as I could. I grew to like the taste of my black bread, and still do to this day.
The ability to create my own food came in handy (although I never expected it) shortly afterward when a life-changing event occurred to me one day…
Chapter 3: The Forest
My skills continued to develop at a rapid pace. Master Jrool taught me well in all the arcane arts, but this was not all he taught me. He told me great tales from afar and taught me the histories of the High Elven kind. I learned about ancient empires and glorious civilizations.
Master Jrool also taught me about the barbaric and uncivilized races that had overrun many parts of the land of Norrath. Although he didn't go into many details, he told me that the foreign races were very inferior to High Elves, and that High Elves alone would be responsible for restoring Norrath to its former glory. He taught me that my homeland of Felwithe, where I had spent my entire life, was one of the last outposts of civilized people. I accepted this without questioning, because I knew that Master Jrool would not lie.
And then it happened.
One day, while running an errand for a local in Felwithe, I passed a strange traveler. He slightly resembled drawings I'd seen of Erudites, but I'd never seen a real Erudite before, so I could not be sure what race he was. He was young - only slightly older than I was (I was in my early teens). I extended a common greeting to him as I approached, and much to my surprise he bowed before me. This was entirely unexpected. Sure, I'd seen countless travelers bow before the great magi of Felwithe, but I was only a small boy. Why would he bow before me?
I stopped in my tracks and inquired what business had brought him to Felwithe. He replied that he had traveled from his home in Erudin to learn the arcane sciences from the Elves.
"You've come to the right place, my friend," I said. "There are none more masterful with things arcane than the Elves who live among these spires."
He bowed before me again, and we went our separate ways. I wouldn't have thought much of that incident, but the fact that he bowed before me impressed me somehow. So, I told Master Jrool about the experience the next time we met.
"The traveler is wise," Master Jrool commented. "Anyone with half a brain would chose to come here." Nothing else was said about the matter. Obviously Master Jrool was unimpressed by the traveler, but I could not see why. I was very intrigued.
I saw the traveler again that day at roughly sundown. He was leaving the tavern, and I asked him where he was planning on going.
"I'm going hunting tonight," he said calmly. "The are rumors that the Orcs are on the rise. I intend to see for myself. Would you like to come along?"
"Now?" I could hardly believe my ears. "You hunt? I thought you studied the magic arts…"
"I do," he replied with an odd look in his eyes. "But I've got to make a living somehow, don't I?"
I didn't know what to say, so I just blurted out a question that I'd been wondering about him. "How did you get here? Aren't you rather young to be traveling?"
An amused smile came across his face. "You don't get out much, do you? I had to cross three continents and two oceans to get from my home to Felwithe. And, believe it or not, I made the trip when I was younger than you are now." He looked at the setting sun. "It's getting dark. I need to hurry… my partner is waiting for me. Do you want to come along or not?"
"I… I…" I stuttered…
"You don't hunt? Then come along. I'll teach you. A good hunting group can always use another good caster."
"You mean you hunt with magic?" I asked. This thought had never fully occurred to me.
Without even telling anyone, I followed the Erudite across the great marble bridge and out the Felwithe Gate. I'd never before been outside the gate, and I was amazed at what I saw. Awe inspiring trees stretched toward the stars that glistened in the night. A path was worn through the undergrowth, and we followed this path until we came to an elf lying casually against a tree. The Erudite introduced me to his partner, Feradoen, a Wood Elf Ranger who would be our guide during the hunt.
Despite the Wood Elves' inferiority to High Elves, I was very impressed by the ranger's skill at guiding us through the forest at night. Feradoen led us deep into the forest, beyond the path, and into the darkness. I looked back, but there was no sign of the great bonfires near the Gate entrance. Only an endless forest of majestic trees stretched out in every direction.
We soon came to a clearing, and there it was.
In the clearing there were several very large and very thick trees. They naturally caused my eyes to look upward. As my eyes started following them upward to see their tops, they were interrupted by something halfway up, roughly the size of a city.
It was a city - what an incredible city! A majestic city built of huge platforms and great bridges high in the trees stretched back into the mist. It was huge, and it all was in the air!
My jaw dropped at the sight. Feradoen only chuckled. "Welcome to Kelethin - my home," he said and then continued on his way. I didn't follow him. I was too busy staring in amazement at the great and wondrous city to notice that they even left.
The sight of Kelethin stirred something deep inside me. Up to that point, I'd believed that Wood Elves, as well as all other outside races, were inferior to High Elves. But, if this were true, how then could they possibly construct such an amazing city? Could a barbaric race build something so incredible? I couldn't believe that it was possible, so there was only one other explanation. Perhaps the Wood Elves aren't as barbaric as I'd been taught.
And furthermore, if such an astounding city existed in my own forest - within walking distance from Felwithe - what other wonders lie beyond the reaches of the forest? What other noble races are out there, and what mysteries do their civilizations hold?
It was at that moment that I first knew that Felwithe was no longer my true home. Felwithe could no longer satisfy me. I had questions - thousands of them - that Felwithe couldn't answer. I wanted to travel, explore, and see the wonders of Norrath! However, I was soon to learn that'd I'd need much more experience in the wild in order to make this dream come true.
When my group noticed I was no longer with them, they came back for me and found me pondering my new and incredible thoughts. They snapped me out of my daze and informed me that they'd tracked down a small band of wandering Orcs that had been harassing the local people lately. We immediately set out to put this Orc threat down.
During the course of that night, we hunted and slew many Orcs. I was disgusted at the vile creatures, and I felt a deep sense of duty to rid to world of them. My Erudite companion had taught me how to use my spells to assist the party. He asked me if I could summon a burst of flame. Of course I could do that - it was a very basic concept that I'd almost mastered. Then, he taught me how to aim my thoughts in such a way as to summon the flame burst right on the Orcs' skin. To my amazement, it worked! I successfully could cast a burst of flame, and I'd watch the vile beasts' flesh ignite and burn away.
After a long and hard night of battling the vicious demons, we headed home. As the dawn broke, I slowly plodded my way back through the Felwithe Gate. I was gashed and bruised badly, yet I felt a deep feeling of satisfaction. I'd used my powers for good, and I had an entirely new future open before me.
Despite the severe punishments I received for my unwarranted actions, I was not to be deterred. I made up my mind that I'd do much more adventuring in the future. My new life had just begun…
Hunden's awesome writings!
Of Llamas and Lady Hawke
By Kinaru, 4/7/00
There was a fine leader named "Hawke"
Who was constantly getting stalked;
What on earth could it be
That was following he?
Why that llama he once had sought!
There once was a great "Lady" Cleric,
Who was good at all things numeric;
The guild's plat she tracked,
The misers she smacked,
So if you have cash, you'd best share it!
The beautiful writings of Laha:
The beautiful writings of Lochlan:
Eye for an Eye: Two Bards recount the same events.
Lochlan's Story -- 6/8/99
Horammer, Borgu and I were hunting the Plains of East Karana. We had setup near the great wooden bridge and Borgu would travel out and seek prey. After many lions, some gorge hounds and a few gnoll reavers, we decided to finish our hunt with something a little bigger.
Borgu set out and even though the Griffawns appeared to be an easy match, his experiences earlier in the day told him otherwise. The Griffawn that had seemed to be a little weaker than himself and even with Lochlan, had ripped them to shreds with it's powerful claws sending Lochlan's spirit back to Freeport and Borgu running for the safety of the bridge. So the Griffawn was out, ahhh, an Evil Eye, it looked dangerous but not impossible.
Borgu let loose a great bellow and the Eye set after him, pet in tow. It unleashed great magics on him and by the time he returned to us, Borgu was near death. For good measure a Lion Patriarch had joined in the battle.
We tried desperately to lure the creatures from Borgu but to no avail and soon our friend's spirit was sent away. The creatures turned on us, I lured the pet and lion away while Horammer focused on the Eye.
The air exploded with magical energy as they battled while my sword and song did what they could. Soon Horammer had the upper hand and while a party of onlookers watched he finished the mighty creature. A kind healer whose name escapes me, boosted my strength and soon I vanquished the pet and lion with some help from Horammer.
A mighty battle was won despite the loss of our friend and a great cheer rose among the crowd. Soon thereafter I achieved my 14th rank and camped , exhausted and proud.
Borgu's Story -- 6/8/99
I was hunting East Karana with two guildmates, Horammer and Lochlan. Horammer is the epitome of the Dwarven Cleric. He is short of words and study in battle. Lochlan was the first bard in the SCARAB guild, and one I look to for guidance in the ways of honor, loyalty, and valor.
I was eagar to impress my guildmates with my daring, so I suggested we attempt to destroy an Evil Eye. An Evil Eye is the essence of fell magic created by evil sorcerers. At the time I bore a magic shield which I believed would help to protect me from the Eye's magic. I was soon proven wrong...
I ran towards the beast and set forth a terrible bellow to attract it's attention. As I turned to run I was locked into place by the monster's magic. It cast spell after spell upon me, darkness, fear, weakness, and yes even the dreaded death spell was attempted by this creature.
Still I was able to break free. by the time I reached my brothers, I was near death. I saw the bridge to safety yet I hesitated to leave my guildmates to the monster. I turned to loop around and distract the beast while my companions unleashed spells of their own. Next thing I am aware of is flying through the air, knocked backwards by the force of the Evil Eye's magic! I realize I will not be of any use, so I run towards the bridge. A veil of evil darkness slammed over me and I fell at the base of the bridge unable to see. The last sensation I felt was the hot breath of the Eye as it began to consume me.
I awoke some distance away in the safety of High Hold Keep. I was worried about my guildmates so I queried them on the guildstone. I was surprised to find that they vanquished the beast! I ran back to my corpse happily knowing my death was not in vain.
By Lochlan, Bard of SCARAB, 3/3/99
I decided it was time to make the trip from Qeynos to Freeport and meet up with all the SCARAB folks on the other half of the world. I had tried before and always been turned back. But now, armed with Selo's Aceelerando and a hand drum the land was a blur under my feet. I left Qeynos behind and headed into the vast expanse that is West Karana. This land is not so dangerous as it is big, the rolling hills go on and on hiding things like lions and grizzly bears that seem especially strong and aggressive. Finally, I was about to enter land of the Griffons, North Karana.
North Karana is the most dangerous place I have yet seen in my travels. It is not unusual to see a family of Griffons flying over head and a pride of lions searching the ground. I steeled myself and set off singing and playing my drum. My feet raced along the road until it felt like I was flying and soon the Great Wooden Bridge was in sight. I breathed a sigh of relief as I approached it and soon I was on the bridge crossing the great river. I turned to look back into the lands and saw a trio of Griffons flying towards me. I quickly spun around and crossed to the other side into East Karana, praying the rumors were true. What rumors you ask? The ones that said that the Griffons hated to fly over water and wouldn't cross the river.
I stumbled up the hill and glanced over my shoulder. The Griffons were on the other side screaming at me. I took this as a sign that the fates were with me and I would cross the mountains and make the journey to Freeport. As I followed the signs to Highpass Hold, I realized that this land was completely deserted. I wondered if some great creature patrolled here consuming everything that lived or perhaps there was some evil magic that made this place death to all who would live here. I decided to leave the questions unanswered and set off up the mountain pass. I climbed high into the hills and saw many great carvings along the way. They were enormous and spectacular, but again there was no creature around to claim the great work as their own, only more mysteries.
After a long climb, I stood before the entrance to Highpass Hold. I knew this place harbored many strong and vile creatures who would kill me just for spite, I also knew that there were guards here to aid me, if I could only find them. My heart was pounding as I made my way in, I had gotten some general directions from a kind halfling and I followed them as best I could. The path twisted and turned and there were many dead ends, but soon I found the guard house that sat in the middle of the Hold. The guards were kind and helpful and one led me most of the rest of the way. From there it was easy to follow the trail out of the hold and into Kithicor Forest.
A dark and foreboding place, the forest was nonetheless a welcome sight. It might I was over the mountains and I could use my song and drum to best advantage. Soon I saw a marker for Freeport and knew that I would make it this time. The journey ahead was still long and dangerous. I stayed on the path and soon came to the West Commonlands.
Everything was new to me now, the creatures, the plants, the trees, I was curious to explore this place, but knew better than to try. I was close to Freeport and couldn't court disaster now. I tore across the ground and soon came to the East Commonlands and then West Freeport.
What an odd and ugly town at first glance. This Freeport was vastly different than my home and I was uneasy despite being safely within the town walls. I wandered lost, learning the ways of the town until I found the Jade Panther. This looked like a good place to get an ale and recover from my journey.
I opened the door to a loud and raucous crowd and when I turned the corner I discovered it to be a large group of SCARAB members. I saw Ozwyn and Javanno and Stubs and Grithen and many others and they welcomed me with mead and hugs and warm greetings. Freeport was looking up. We drank many a mead and told many story that night, a better welcome a Bard could never hope for.
By Lochlan, Bard of Scarab, 3/4/99
I travelled across the place known as the East Commonlands looking for suitable creatures to hunt. I was new to this part of Antonica and things here were very different than the hunting grounds of Qeynos and West Karana. There was much yelling about "the griff" and I was pretty sure that these folks were referring to a Griffon like the ones I had seen in North Karana which are formidable beasts worthy of the fear and respect shown by these folks. Finally I came to a cave entrance that seemed to a good place to hunt from, I could see skeletons and pumas and rattlesnakes and headed out to do battle.
After a particulary tough fight with two pumas, I returned to the cave entrance to rest and saw fellow SCARAB member Ozwyn aiding a group that had been severly beaten by an asp. Alas, even Ozwyn's skill couldn't save Kaxxa the Enchanter and her spirit was sent back to Freeport. After helping the others, and greeting me warmly, Ozwyn said he was off to hunt zombies. I declined his invitation to join him, as did the others there, as zombies are too strong for me yet. After he left, Ramana the Monk invited me to join her group, Kaxxa and Moonmoth the Warrior were the others, and I gladly accepted. We rested and discussed our strategy while Kaxxa made her way back and soon we were ready to hunt.
I volunteered to act as bait and lure creatures to the cave entrance where the team could ambush them. The first victim was a puma and using Selo's Accelerando I dashed out and lured the beast back to a quick death. We continued this pattern for much of a day and an army of corpses soon littered the ground around us. It was a glorious hunt with no casualties and when we were done, we were all burdened with loot. The only dissapointment came when I found Ozwyn's body lying on the hillside during one of my searches for prey. I was shocked that he had died so close by without my hearing him. I learned later that a mighty zombie and a puma had combined forces to defeat him.
As we headed back to Freeport for rest and a well-earned ale, I thought of how well this group had fought and was proud to have been invited to join them. Later, I would join Ramana and Kaxxa again in the desert, but that is another story.
Check out Meniva's hot biography!
Check out Miri's EQ Bio.
Wolves of the North
By Morigane Mystrose, 4/7/00
A cold wind slowly blows through the icy mountains
The few trees gently creak, blown by harsh winds
The ice upon the frozen river crackles as the cool winds blow down its narrow channel.
Frozen snow blows across the empty planes hiding the sun from view and misting over the moon.
A flash of white atop a cliff, or was it just a trick of the fading light?
Darkness sets, enshrouding the white cliffs in the folds of night.
A light streaks across the darkness, blue eyes pierce the night.
Slowly the moon crests the frosty peaks, it’s white light shimmering off the pure snow, reflecting it’s glow into the skies.
Running quickly, a lone wolf, white as the snow slides through the shadows across the frozen tundra, head low to the ground.
The edge of a cliff ending in darkness….
The winds of the North howling across the night skies…
Slowly the wolf raises it’s head to the skies and looks upon the stars as they twist through they night in the endless dance of the Gods.
A freezing winds as the ice crackles and mist blows low across the land. single, long, mournful howl breaks the stillness of the frozen lands and freezing winds as the ice crackles and mist blows low across the land.
A second wolf joins in the mournful chorus from the north, a second from the West and a third the East, their songs of sadness making the world stand still, the stars in the sky slowing their dance.
Three wolves. Their songs of sadness twisting in the night to form a chorus of more beautiful and terrifying then that of the Angels above themselves.
Cool mist blows in from the east and the wolves vanish from sight, their song slowly dying to the coming dawn.
The shadows slowly fade back across the land as the darkness fades and the sun sparkles off the ice once more.
Name: Ozwyn MacLean
Race: Human
Class: Cleric
Sex: Male
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Eye color: Green
Hair color: Brown
Ozwyn MacLean's Story
Distinguishing marks or tattoos
Scarab guild tattoo - right arm.
Biography
Ozwyn's journey into the Clerical following and Scarab was a most peculiar one by any standard.
His father was Bjorn Kalita, a notably savage and brutal Warrior, who delighted in raiding innocents and other banditry. His mother was a prisoner/victim of his father, and died when he was four.
He did not start out very well. As soon as he could walk, his father had him join a gang of bandit children who robbed graves and broke into people's houses, and other acts of common burglary.
One incident with his father's bandit friends in particular scarred him for life. His father had one of his friends over, the infamous troll warrior Guklak Toothrage, a bandit reviled even among his own kind as a cannibalistic eater of human and elven children. He and Bjorn were drunk one day, and he bought the right to cook and eat Ozwyn for 3 copper. Fortunately, the troll was so drunk he passed out, blacked out, and forgot the incident. However, Ozwyn still carries the memory of being held up by one leg and being told he was going to be Guklak's next meal.
Some of the other children had similarly bad backgrounds, and after a couple of years they conspired to go into business for themselves. Just before his ninth birthday, he slit his father's throat while he was asleep, looted his house for anything of value, and joined the other conspirators of the gang. For the next several years they engaged in minor banditry, skullduggery and did their own grave robbing. They particularly enjoyed grave robbing, for it appears to have the fewest risks.
However, as they began to dig up more and more graves, they began to have more close calls with Undead, and the foul, evil necromancers, who often dug up corpses for their own abominable uses.
For a while, they would not re-bury their looted graves, in hopes this would at least keep the Necromancers somewhat appeased. And it seemed to work for a while. But then the necromancers wanted live specimens to study. Several members of the gang disappeared, and Ozwyn suspected a necromancer might have abducted them in order to conduct some unnatural, unholy experiment.
His own luck ran out at the age of thirteen. He made the disastrous mistake of digging down into a grave that had just spawned a zombie. Naturally, it was digging up as he was digging down. So as he was knee deep in the grave the Zombie burst out, and he was face to face with the monster.
He thought he was dead, no, he KNEW he was dead, but instead something else happened. He felt a light from above him and also within him reach out and strike down the Zombie. He knew at that moment some other power; some greater force had marked him, and then used him to strike down the abomination. He felt different for a moment, he felt good, like for once in his life something right had been done.
He knew then that his days of grave robbing were over. He wasn't sure what he should do, or where he should go, but his was convinced his criminal days were over. When he went back to the gang's hideout, to tell the others he was leaving, he discovered that his encounter was not the only one with the undead.
The door to the hideout had been smashed open, and judging by the corpses of his dismembered friends, he judged that a mummy probably tracked down one of them and must have killed them all. The horror of the undead rampage, combined with the mishap he barely survived, solidified his determination to change.
Ozwyn looted what he could find, and enlisted in the Black Lotus Mercenary company. The Black Lotus guild of mercenaries was known to take almost anyone and not be too picky about the work they did. He served there for four years, serving out his term of duty well enough, but knowing at the end it was just not right for him. However, the experience had shown him a bit of the world, and that other possibilities were out there to be explored.
It was then that he turned to the priesthood of Solusek Ro, and found his proper calling. The Clerical way gave him a sense of peace, and filled him with a commitment to make good the sins of his youth, and prevent people like his father from preying on others. He decided to travel the world and apply his new beliefs in the most direct, physical manner possible on the forces of evil.
Almost immediately, he ran into Lord Hawke, and he expressed his ideas for fighting injustice, although not the reasons why. Along with Ravenn and Venomm they founded Scarab. The new guild quickly grew into a force to be reckoned with. In his time, he has served as assistant guildmaster, Master of arms, and Inner circle member.
The beautiful writings of Peigra:
Read Rumncoke's awesome biography!
Untitled
By Seneby, 4/7/00
Rhymes & reason are like wims,
Feelings like love & anger etherial twins
Passion I hold deep inside,
Even as I wait for the evening tide
My lover's touch is gentle & soft,
even as he caresses me deep in our cozy loft
By fires light we embrace again & again,
But I awake in morning's end
And I find myself alone & wondering when,
My love will come home & visit me again...
Doors, and other evil monsters
By Shurn, 3/8/99
I Appeared at night in Surefall Glade. They call it this because newbies are sure to fall into the moat and drown.
I read in the UO Vault (thanks to the link on the SCARAB Contacts page), that I had to find the Ranger guildmaster and give him a letter. So, lo and behold, right there in front of me is a house. I eagerly walk up to the front door (stubling over hidden roots and slamming against trees in the dark - darn these human eyes!). But something's wrong. It doesn't open at my approach. Has the motion detector failed? "Arch" I call out, hoping that something has gone wrong with the holo-emitter. Nope. Nothing. I guess I'm going to have to figure this out by myself.
So I do what any intellgent person would do when a door doesn't open at their approach. I backed up and got a running start.
I'm SURE that there are web pages out there that have newbie spawnign points on "internet cams" to watch stuff like this. Someday, someone will compile a tape of these and it will show on America's Most Idiotic People. Needless to say, stampeeding the door didn't work.
I was about to click on the SIT button and think things through when I saw someone run by. I peered around the corner of the building and saw some other people. Being male, I had absolutely no intention to ask directions on how to open a simple door. At the very least, someone would eventually come out and I could slither past them into the building. Granted, I'd be stuck there until someone opened the door again, but I didn't really consider that at the time. Then the people I was watching started casting spells. Pretty neat looking, but I was a little concerned about WHY they were casting spells. Is there combat going on this close to a newbie spawning point?!?! Then I heard someone say something about bears, and I backed up out of the way.
Now, I had seen another building out there - one with an open doorway. But not only was it on the other side of the glade from me - across bear-infested meadows - but everyone knows that anything worth having will have a door between you and it. I was sure that there was nothing of interest in such an open place.
As I turned to reconsider the door, the server crashed and I was booted from the game.
A little while later, Lila called me on the phone. As we talked, I managed to reaquire the server (it was very stuborn about letting me back in - probably figured a guy who couldn't open a simple door shouldn't be playing). Well, she talked me through a lot of the details of playing. Like how you need to use the MOUSE to do things. Geez - never crossed my mind to actually CLICK on the door. I was pressing the spacebar, as if I was toting a .45 and expected to see mutant super-nazis on the other side.
Under her expert tutalage, I was able to track down the guildmaster (without falling in the moat), and give him my letter. It was only after this 15-minute long search that I found out it would have been a lot easier if I had just clicked on the Track button. How green can newbie rangers be if this isn't the first thing they do when they drop into Norrath? But once I was able to track, I wanted to track EVERYTHING. I noticed one of those grizzly bears people were yelling about in the Track menu, so I clicked on it and set out. Unfortunately (or rather, "fortunately"), I never got to see a bear. They were all apparently clustered at the top of an unscalable cliff. And no matter how many dwarfs I stacked on that pile, I couldn't climb to the top.
Then I saw a PK run buy. I just about lost bowel control. Sorry - inbred reaction. Then I realized that he was POWERLESS AGAINST ME - MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I actually followed him for a bit until he disappeared down a dark tunnel. I tried to pry a torch from a nearby wall, but it wouldn't give. So I set off in the dark, fully expecting to be eaten by something. I could barely make out my feet in front of me, but I managed to come through the tunnel unscathed. By then, dawn had ... well .... dawned, and I could see again (well, "for the first time"). Wonderful sunrise - red-tinged clouds floating calmly past (oh - did I mention the thunderstorm that I was caught in while in the Glade? unbelieveable!). There were also a bunch of friendly looking guards, and several other people who must have been other players.
At this point (right before I actually encountered anything dangerous), Lila said goodbye and hung up. Her advice was to find a nice snake or bat to kill. Well, why should I kill them if they're NICE?! But, as always, I took her advice. Using my newly discovered tracking skill, I made out into the countryside in search of prey.
The only thing I hadn't considered was that the prey was out there looking for ME. No - not the nice snakes, rats and bats of the world (of which I killed many - both my 9 yr old son and I laughing joyously as they collapsed onto the 3D hillside). My problems were with the skeletons. I was tracking a particularly fat rat toward an arrangement of monoliths. Then, as I raised my sword to strike, two or thee skeletons spawned around me and quickly cut me down.
I approached the monoliths a bit more carefully when went back to retrieve my one snakeskin, two bat wings and one rat hide that comprised my accumilated treasure. No skeletons in sight - good. All the while, mind you, my son is sitting behind me saying "I told you not to go up there, dad! I told you that abandoned temples were bad places!" (elbow to the ribs - HIS, not mine) So I managed to find my corpse and get back my booty. Whilst killing a rat on my way out, I noticed a skeleton spawn in the background, then collapse into a pile of bones. "Cool," I thought. Free booty. But it hadn't been explained to me that skeletons play possum. I took two steps toward it and it popped back up and waxed me good.
So, my initiation into the world had begun. I adventured a bit more after that, but after another rat knocked me unconscious and proceeded to chew my face off (the program, of course, forcing me to watch from above), the program locked up again and I called it quits for the night.
I'm looking forward more than ever to getting together with everyone else next week. I think that if we get six or seven of us, and a running start, we might be able to get through that door. 
The beautiful writings of Tonto:
This is a short story (that I suppose could get much longer) written back in the beta for DAoC, the lore of which was the primary influence. I had thought it lost for all time as the website it had been posted to disappeared some years ago. The computer I originally wrote it on died the hard death not too long after I wrote the story. There were a couple of hard copies floating around that couldn't be recovered. Lo and behold, when packing up to move, a manila folder was discovered nestled among some long forgotten maps of the Middle East which I was using as source material for other (and related) writing. Here is the short story (part one) complete with cliffhanger. Enjoy.
The smells of battle shifted and swept, eddying about the killing fields like the swelling flocks of carrion birds that arrived in number to pick at the dead flesh. Blood, sweat, vomit, shit and death; smells that clung to the clothes and the nose, twisting the stomach till all thoughts of hunger were squeezed out, replaced by a choking nausea that would not soon depart.
From Bryniech to Mor Iodeo the plane stretched, smoldering and scarred from a battle whose tide only just today turned; turned by an unknown hand here at this place. The War Chief of the mighty Northmen, the Midgardian barbarians had fallen here and his host was being driven East by the battle-weary but nearly triumphant Albion soldiers. Perhaps the war was now over. Perhaps the fathers and sons of Brython, those who still lived, could return to their wives and daughters, their hearths and homes. Yes, perhaps the war was over, and if so I was standing upon the ground where history was written in blood. But this history could not be complete without the name of the man by whose hand the War Chief fell. This man’s name would be sung by bards and jongleurs, storytellers and tavern drunks, as if they had been there to witness the act themselves.
As I began stepping over more and more of the Northmen bodies, it became apparent that something in the nature of the battle had changed. There were far fewer Albion dead the closer I came to the tattered, fluttering banner of the Midgard leader. Yet, the still forms of the enemy took on a desperate aspect, with dangling limbs, headless torsos, and purpling insides strewn about as if the barbarians had thrown themselves against a solitary, powerful giant of unimaginable strength. I shifted my woolen robe to avoid dragging it through yet another pile of hardly identifiable carnage.
And then I saw him…
A Knight of Albion lay amidst the sprawling bodies of the enemy’s best. His battered mail still shone through the blood of untold fallen. But he was not so dead as he seemed. As I approached, the point of his sword rose from where it lay lifeless a moment before to place itself between him and I. His head came up and though I could no see beyond the slats in his helmet, I felt his eyes upon me. Then the figure relaxed, lowering the sword and sighing a most unhealthy sigh.
“The battle?” he rasped.
“The fighting has moved to the east and I fear most of the healers as well,” I replied.
“No matter. The day is ours?”
“It is. And you are its hero. Perhaps the war ends today.” This appeared to be what he wanted to hear. His body sagged and his grip loosened on the sword that a moment ago had been pointed as straight and hard as an accusation of cowardice towards my heart.
“Water,” he said. It was not a question.
“Oh. Of course.” I pulled the flask from my belt and knelt to help him remove his helm. It came of easily, and I was struck… He was old. He was very old and I wondered what he was doing out here on the field of battle wearing the raiment of a young warrior. I asked, but he either didn’t hear or chose not to answer. At the same time, I looked again at the sword. It was a remarkable blade the likes of which I had never seen before, or since.
“Ah, you have seen through me,” he noticed. “This,” he gestured “this is another man’s sword.”
He saw my startled look, and held a bemused smile. “No, good friar. Not that blade. Not the Sword of Kings, the Sword of Arthur. No, this belonged to a man. A man among men, I should say.” He peered into the distance a moment, recalling memories long past. Then he continued, “I have little time left. I have seen seventy-nine summers and I will not see my eightieth. My time on this earth is at an end. But to you I will leave this tale:
"It was so long ago, it seems now. I found my master much as you have found me here. Dying." His face betrayed the real pain of his injuries. He continued, "He had the name Bors. A great knight he was, and I was his squire. His liege was Cadwy, who was himself sworn to King Arthur. Ah, friar... would that I had the tongue for tales. My master was as righteous as a prophet, fair as a virgin, and mighty as the Titans of old. Before he and Arthur, the Saeson invaders were swept into The Wash, even after Woden the One Eye, War God of the Saeson, had placed the poison of bloodlust within the heart of Cynurig, the king of the invaders."
"Yet, throught triumph after bloody triumph, we became too proud, too boastful. Then, the darkest day came when Arthur's lifeblood was spilled into the earth at Camlann. Arthur's black-hearted nephew Mordred slew him in an attempt to claim the throne as his own. I wept that day, for it was a day of many deaths."
"I found my master among the dying. He bade me bear this sword in the name of the King. He did not know, as I did, that the King had fallen..." Tears formed in the old knight's eyes and I was forced to look away out of respect. "I could not tell him, you see. I couldn't take so much from a man so close to death. So I took the sword and swore that I would uphold the ideals and principles of a liege that no longer lived..."
Here again he looked out into the darkening sky as if looking for signs of redemption in the gathering twilight. But he was quick to return to his tale. "I had been unmanned that day, friar. So many of us were, you see. We had no King! What were we fighting for? It was much later that I found out the answer."
"I traveled after that. Across the Sea of Udd to the lands beyond. I fought in the Holy Lands and met a Saracin warrior by the name of Achim. He and I fought for whomever would pay the most. We killed for copper pennies or for golden statues that would buy a nobleman's keep."
The knight coughed and caught at his side with a gauntleted fist. Finally, after a short fit that I thought sure would take him, he stopped and stared straight at me. His brown eyes had a sharpness that a moment before was dulled by weakness. There was no weakness there now. "Friar!" he called, though I was right there. "I have seen the sunset off off the Penrhyn Slathaon, see the tide rise and fall with the writhing of Adanc, the Serpent of the Deep. I've seen Caer Arianron, the Crown of God in the Sky! I have seen blood and death to last a hundred men a lifetime..." his eyes began to focus on things that were not of this world, "but I did not see till today... that which I was fighting for was not the King of the Blessed Isle, Arthur. But the dream of his that is Albion."
He died in my arms, bearing another man's sword and another man's dream. Perhaps he was sitting at the right hand of his King now. Or, perhaps not. I only know that while I have his sword, I never got his name.
The beautiful writings of Treewhisper:
Treewhisper's Saga
Chapter 1: The Beginning
On a bed of verdant green grass, sheltered by the knotted arms of a great ancient elm, Treewhisper took her first breath. The trees were the only midwives to attend the child's mother, and the wolves were the only family to pace anxiously along the edge of the misty grove. But as Moonsong gently cleansed the blood from her new born babe, she knew that she'd have it no other way. The breeze sang through the trees, celebrating the birth of their Keeper's child. The soft susurrations of sound were whispers to Moonsong's ears. The trees were whispering the good news, one to the next throughout the wood: an heir to the forest was born. Moonsong rejoiced in their approval, calling the child Treewhisper in honor of her ancient wooded family.
As the child grew, Moonsong taught her the ways of the wood, instructing Treewhisper in the ancient magicks of life, renewal and rebirth. Moonsong knew her time as the Keeper of Silverglade Wood was coming to an end, and Treewhisper would reign as Keeper. The wood was small, warranting only one Keeper, unlike Jaggedpine Forest to the South.
The child grew strong in body and wisdom, wolves her sisters and brothers, trees her guardians. Moonsong never mentioned Tree's father, and Treewhisper never asked, for her mother had taught her that a Druid's forest was her husband, and her marriage bed, the grasses within.
Druids do not die. Instead, they fade away into the nature that they protected for so long -- at least that's what they say. They say a Druid within her forest can last a thousand years as long as she dwells within its sheltering embrace, then her spirit simply transfers itself to the trees. Thus, each tree is a Druid of old, since the day when Tunare first appointed a guardian to her forest -- so they say.
So, Treewhisper was not surprised one day to find her mother's belongings in the small moss-covered cave that they called home. Moonsong's scrolls, herbs, and battle gear were all placed neatly together on the old, rock-carved shelf that lined the cave wall. This was not a sorrowful time for Treewhisper.
Though Tree would miss her mother's physical companionship, she could sense her in the wood and knew that it was as it should be. The wood was her kin now, its inhabitants her charges. The young Druid picked up the fine scimitar used by her mother over the ages and ran her finger along it's shining, sharp blade. She turned it in her hand. The balance fit her; no more practicing with old rusty scimitars in the glade with her mother. This weapon was meant for a woman, for a fighter, for a true defender of the forest. A soft smile touched Tree's face as she caught her reflection in its long steel blade. She had not realized how much she had grown. Her face looked somehow older. In place of merry, rounded cheeks, were cheekbones chiseled from tan clay. Instead of the dancing glow of innocence in her bark-colored eyes, she saw the wisdom of ages sparkling there -- her mother's wisdom, passed down from mother to daughter.
And all was well in Treewhisper's corner of the realm -- for a time. Gnolls began invading the wood from the South, killing the wolves for meat and slashing and burning the trees. Treewhisper fought bravely for as long as she could. The Keeper of Jaggedpine Forest tried to send aid, but he and his apprentices had their own battles to fight as Gnolls invaded Surefall Glade.
The attacks became more frequent, the fires more encompassing, until Treewhisper was captured and imprisoned in Blackburrow. She felt the pain of the trees as they burned, and even from this far she heard their silent screams in her heart. And she could do nothing. She had failed her wood. She no longer heard its whispers, she no longer felt its presence.
Her wood was dead.
Not long after the destruction of Silverglade, Treewhisper found herself rescued by brave rangers sent from Surefall Glade. There was no rejoicing; Treewhisper had nowhere she wished to go, nothing to call home. Her will was to die in Blackburrow, for a Druid without her wood surely dies.
But Tunare works in strange ways. The inhabitants of Surefall Glade nursed her back to health, and the presence of the sheltering pines soothed some of her pain. She started small, healing slight wounds and protecting the Grizzly Caves from intruders. Though her anguish ran deep, she was soon able to leave the Glade in search of her homeland, Kelethin. Now she roams the land, protecting the children of Tunare, the Mother of All, in any way she can to make up for her failure. Perhaps you'll see her . . . perhaps not. They say she blends with the trees and sleeps with the wolf. But if someone is in trouble, she is by their side, regarding each life saved as precious to her as her lost trees.
Chapter 2: Tunare's Visit
The wind tugged at Treewhisper's silky white cloak, making soft, snapping noises as it whipped to and fro. She hugged the cloak tightly around her, shielding her bare shoulders from the chilly northern wind, grateful for Ozwyn's fine gift on such a cool morn.
In spite of the chilly breeze, the morning was bright and beautiful. The grasses upon the hilltop on which she stood danced with the wind, its graceful undulations hypnotizing, calming. Rays of sunlight made the river below shine golden, and the waterfall at the bend of the river was singing a soft, watery ballad.
Treewhisper seated herself on the grassy slope, admiring Tunare's work. Aye, Tunare, she thought, Ye're amazin' ta me. Ye create all this life, this beauty... an' yet ye created the gnolls that burned my wood. Aye, aye, I know ye did not create them ta be evil, but I do not understand how ye could be the artist who painted both.
The wood elf slumped forward, hugged her knees, and wept.
"The wood will grow again."
Was that a voice she heard? Or was it just her grief playing tricks on her mind.
"The cycle is renewal and rebirth. From the ashes will grow new life. See-- look upon the waterfall. The water throws itself from the top, to be broken upon the rocks below. Does that make you sad, child of my heart? Nay, for the waterfall continues on as the river. In the same way will your wood continue on, as a new form."
Treewhisper scrubbed away the tears with the back of her glove, the rough leather scraping her cheeks. The voice seemed to be all around her, powerful, yet silent. With sudden awareness, she bowed low, her forehead to her hands, her face in the pungent, dewey grass. "Mother Tunare," she spoke aloud. "Yer speakin' through the wind. Ye've heard the cries of my heart. Forgive me, oh gracious Mother, for doubtin' ye. Forgive me."
The wind seemed to lift her up from the ground, and she felt its gentle caress on her face, drying her tears. "No need to forgive you, child. You have remained faithful to your cause, despite your pain. You are a true protector of the land, my beloved child. You've found a great and honorable family in Scarab. They will help you. And someday, when the cycle begins again, you will be back in your wood, my daughter."
And in an instant, the wind went still. The grasses ended their elegant dance, and all was silent. Treewhisper stood motionless for a long time, pondering Tunare's words.
She remained on that hilltop in the Karanas until nightfall, taking in the wonder and beauty around her. Then she set up camp beneath a rocky outcropping in the gorge. Treewhisper conjured light and dug parchment and ink out of her backpack. The parchment was once used and torn, but she turned it over carefully and wrote the best account of what she had learned:
The Waterfall's Song
Crystal shards of water plummet to a joyful death,
Each droplet dancing magically upon the water's breadth.
Cascading rains of wonder flowing down from up above
Sweet nature's voice so powerful, a tribute to earth's love.
Brave water broken tragically upon the rocks below,
Spreads out into an ocean or a raging river's flow,
Reborn into a new form which will live eternally
To catch the future splashes diving down so gracefully.
In this way does Tunare cast her love into our hearts:
She sends torrents of water to our hurting inner parts
To wash away the sorrow manifested in our pains
And soften us with tenderness to love the world again.
A waterfall's the symbol of renewal and rebirth,
A hope that in the future underneath our many hurts
Will be happiness and harmony, not record of past wrong,
But new days, sweet beginnings echoed in the water's song.
WIND
let your skin be touched by the whispering wind
embrace the power it holds
power is not always thunderous
sometimes it is silent
embrace the silence
Waterfall
Cascading down the mountainside the rushing water flows,
Her coolness washing tears away and masking all earth's woes.
Brave water falling joyfully, her voice resounding hope.
Her gentle song so magical; find comfort in her tones.
Each tiny droplet dancing to sweet nature's symphony;
A rushing river merging into perfect harmony.
Soft tendrils of compassion crashing down onto the earth;
power mixed with tenderness a river's brave rebirth!
Chapter 3: A Glimmer of Hope
A grey mist hovered above the dim, ruined land. Dark, jagged shapes jutted angrily towards the sky, like the upraised blades of hundreds of undead warriors. The stagnant air carried a strong scent of charred wood, like the freshly opened gates of an ancient fire-ravaged keep.
The moonlight cast strange, dancing shadows across the mists, and the scuffling of hidden evils could be heard in the deafening silence. Mistdancer crept through the ashes, his ears twitching at each sound, his muzzle raised to catch the scent of danger. Sharpfoot followed close behind, guarding his back. The wolves weaved through the ruins of their former home, sickened by the sight.
It had been over five winters now, and still all seemed dead. What life did lurk in the shadows was bred of evil, dark foul creatures with no love of the land. A sudden movement in the darkness caused both wolves to stiffen. The mists stirred off to the left, and Sharpfoot emitted a low, fierce growl.
It was common for them to face enemies in the night, but the darkness hid them in a way daylight could not, thus lessening the danger. With the morn would come greater dangers, as the light of the sun, once their friend, revealed their presence to the camped gnolls and other fiends lurking in the wood.
Mistdancer sniffed the air, catching the scent of a rodent, and nothing more.
Only a remnant of the beasts of Silverglade had survived the inferno -- those who were too young to fight for the wood, and those who had carried pups or cubs in their wombs. They had fled to the North, seeking shelter in the ruins of an abandoned keep. The she-wolves hunted for food while the bears stood guard over the young. There they had hid for two winters, some dying of starvation, others of despair.
Once the young were old enough to fight, scouts were sent to venture out into the desolation that they had once called home. Some were sent to inquire news of their Keeper in Jaggedpine, but the gnolls had made it impossible to traverse the distance safely. Those unfortunate enough to attempt the journey south had never returned. Most likely they had become food to fill the bellies of drunken gnoll warriors.
The scouts who remained scoured the ashes seeking signs of what had become of their Keeper. For five turns of the seasons they had searched the desolation that once was Silverglade Wood. The only trace of their Keeper recovered was the blackened blade of her scimitar and the scattered belongings of her cave. Most of the wolves that had fought by her side that day had been slain, and those who had survived the battle had perished in the inferno. Thus, none knew what had become of Treewhisper. Had she been slain with the others? Or did she live?
Mistdancer's hope for the wood hung precariously on that question. If she had indeed lived, there was still hope that she would return to avenge the dead and restore Silverglade to the thriving wood it had once been. If she was slain...
He dare not even think it.
The rodent hidden in the mist fled at the sound of their growls, and Mistdancer returned to his silent trek towards their destination. Sharpfoot followed, each muscle tensed and bulging, prepared for battle. They evaded a camp of gnolls by swimming through a small pond once filled with crystalline water -- now thick and darkened with ash.
After maneuvering through a patch of thick brambles, both stopped suddenly, two sets of keen golden eyes searching the misty ground anxiously. There, in the foul darkness of the dead wood, sheltered on all sides by a carefully crafted, yet inconspicuous thicket of brambles, a glimmer of green caught Mistdancer's eyes. Relief washed over him in a torrent as he carefully began to scrape the weeds away from around the base of the small, crooked oak shoot, not bigger than a branch. Yes, he thought, as he carefully tended to the oak. We must find Treewhisper, if she lives. The forest is reborn.
Across the plain, the animals stirred as two long, low howls echoed into the night. The gnolls shivered in their bedrolls, for it had been long since such defiance had been heard in the night. Something was amiss, most certainly, if the wolves had come back to Silverglade.
Treewhisper's Saga
Chapter 4: Ruminations
This chapter is missing.
Chapter 5: Child of the Wolves
my name can be heard in the sound of the wind
my home is the wood and the lea
great beasts, grey and black
are my only known kin
my song echoes proudly and free
harken to hear, where the verdant grass grows-- if you're lucky you may even see--
a child of the land, wild eyes dark as night, serenading the moon's majesty
Chapter 6: Desert Treachery
Treewhisper crouched upon a rocky ledge high above the dervish camp below. Hot, desert wind scratched at her face and sweat glistened on her forehead, creased in thought. She grimaced in distaste at the way the sand seemed to stick to her moist skin, and she found herself constantly spitting to rid her mouth of grit. Aye, a dip in the Ocean of Tears sounded quite good about now, but she had other duties to attend to. What the young half elf druid had been doing there alone, she knew not, but she had heard his shouts just in time to crest the hill and see a single Dervish remaining to cut down the young man. Two bloodied corpses lay near where the boy fell, and the remaining Dervish was quickly put to rest by a slash of Treewhisper's fine Runed Falchion. "A gift from a troll," she grunted to herself while descending silently towards the camp, "an' a bloody smelly one at that." She still could not figure out what possessed the beast into giving her the sword, but she figured that as a child of Tunare, no matter how foul, even he must have some light in his heart (hehehehe or a nice alter ego). And it had come in handy this night.
After the murderer was slain, Treewhisper had climbed the precipice to keep watch from above, waiting for the unfortunate companions of the first three corpses to return. Sometimes vengeance on another's behalf could be almost as sweet when you could not face your true foe. Finally, just as the sun was setting beneath the dunes, three more Dervishes arrived at the motley assortment of tents.
During her careful descent, Treewhisper assessed the camp. One orc sat near the fire, turning what looked to be coyote on a spit. A Barbarian stood watch, his eye scanning the shifting desert dunes for signs of treachery. A small, amused smile crept onto her tired face as she watched his gaze slide across and beyond three sandy lumps not far in the distance. He hadn't seen the hastily made graves covering his former comrades. Not too bright, she figured, and now he would pay for it with his life. But the orc and the Barbarian were not what she was worried about.
Twas the human she was leery of. He sat on the sand near the fire, barking orders to the orc whenever he had a mind to. The orc readily obeyed, his mouth permanently turned down in a humiliated scowl. The human's biceps rippled with muscle, and his neck was as thick as a log. When he stood to relieve his bladder behind the tent, she saw he moved with the grace of a seasoned warrior, dangerously precise in each movement, like a cat. He did not seem to be an easy kill; a misstep with him could very well mean her death. She'd take him out first.
Tree froze as her foot kicked some loose rocks down into the camp below, and the ugly orc Dervish cast a suspicious glance at the spot where the rocks had met the earth. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited anxiously to see if she'd been discovered. Stealth was her only ally in a fight against these three. Without stealth, she'd be joining the young druid and his three attackers in the sand.
After what seemed like an eternity, the orc returned to preparing the coyote, dismissing the sound as part of his imagination. Both human and Barbarian were absorbed in a raucous game of dice on an old, tattered chest -- obviously unconcerned that anything would dare attack them in their isolated little camp.
The wood elf exhaled softly, relief washing over her. With a careful glance beneath to find decent footholds, she continued her descent. The sun was just peeking over the dunes, causing the sand to sparkle like a dragon's cache of gems. She reached the foot of the cliff with a deep sigh of relief and thumped silently to the sand.
Three.
Now for the first.
Treewhisper crept through the sand, her movements camouflaged by magic. She could see now that the men were drinking heavily. Good.
Suddenly, the Barbarian wooped and the human swept the dice off the chest, his ire apparent in the way his jaw flexed and unflexed. The Barbarian merely laughed as the human angrily thrust a small, cloth bundle into his hand, and Tree could hear the soft jingle of payment.
The human kicked the chest onto its side then began stomping directly toward her, his eyes locked on her. Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized his discovery and she stepped back quickly -- then bonked herself as the man walked right through her. Camouflage, she remembered gratefully. Now was her chance.
Her dark eyes studied the camp for a moment as she memorized the location of the remaining two Dervishes. Then, with an expert incantation she cast Harmony upon the retreating human. Her damage shield was set to go, so she cast a stinging swarm to draw him into battle. The spells caused her to return to view. As expected, the other two Dervishes gazed placidly into the desert -- in perfect harmony.
The human buckled at the feel of bees on his skin, then regrouped and drew a long, shining bronze blade out of the scabbard on his back. Cold, blue eyes met hers menacingly. She stood, Falchion in hand, meeting his stare with eyes like cold, hard chips of brown rock.
With a roar, the human swung his sword in an arc towards her belly, but Tree quickly dodged the attack then ducked low for a swipe at his legs. Her blade met skin, but not enough to make a difference, and the human dove at her, his sword dancing gracefully with his movements. Tree was no expert swordsman -- she preferred using spells in combat, so she seemed to be missing more often than not. But slowly, oh so slowly, she saw the life ebbing from the human's boiling red face.
He slashed, parried, slashed and parried with such vigor that she thought surely she neared death. Her muscles and bones were aching, and hot blood began to seep from a misplaced blow to her shoulder. He had meant to hit her head.
The melee continued, each deflecting or absorbing the others blows. Ignite helped her greatly as she toasted the Dervish, and her eyes gleamed with unhealthy anger -- at least to befit a Druid, a life-sustainer, a Priestess of Tunare.
Slash after slash brought him closer to death, until finally, with a final bloody gargle, he collapsed into the sand. Tree inspected the wounds on her body, deciding that now was not the night to finish off the other two. Even now, as she healed, she could still feel the pain where the wounds were mending.
Aye, the other two needed to be slain. And Aye, she MAY have been able to take them. But she also could fail, and then who would know of their wicked deeds?
Nay, twas better to remain alive and rest, then come back in the morn to finish the bastards off.
Chapter 7: The Past Revisited
Treewhisper arrived to take up Briggs' offer of a place in his keep just in time to see the flames devouring it. In the distance, the large tree he spoke so fondly of quivered fearfully under waves of heat, and Treewhisper screamed frantically, memories of another fire not so long ago scorching her mind.
With singular purpose, Treewhisper cast protection from fire and dashed through the inferno, will numbing the pain of the flames licking her skin and threatening to light her ablaze.
Her tears glowed like embers on her face as she plowed her way onward, reaching the old gnarled giant just as the flames were nearing its branches. Already, embers floating down from above were threatening to turn the tree's ancient limbs into violent torches.
Waves of the tree's fear numbed her mind, and she recalled the screaming of her own wood with horror. "Nay, not again! NOT AGAIN!" she screamed, throwing the force of her emotion behind her casting as she cloaked the tree in protection from fire. Coughing, she staggered beneath its limbs and fell into a hollow within its roots, murmuring over and over again, "Ye'll not die on my watch.. nay, ye'll not die.. never again... never again."
In hazy revelation, she managed to cast Enduring Breath, vaguely hoping as she slipped toward unconsciousness that it was useful out of water as well, for the smoke was burning in her lungs. She lifted her eyes weakly to gaze at the fiery keep, shaking her head in disbelief. "Oooh brother, what have ye done!? Tunare protect ye, fer twill be a hard road ye follow..." she whispered as she drifted off into blackness.
Chapter 8: An Echo from the Past
The rising sun cast a crimson glow over the tips of the trees of Silverglade Wood. A sweet-smelling spring breeze sifted through the branches. Moonsong peeked around the trunk of an old birch, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. Her eyes scanned the wood for her prey, who had once again managed to evade her.
Her head snapped to the right at the sound of rocks sliding, and she smiled as she heard a small, sweet voice whisper, "Shhhhh, Shadow!! Mama will find us! Do ye want her to find us??!" Sure enough, creeping from tree to tree just a few spans away was a wee lass, her bark-brown hair a wild mop of snarls, wearing nothing but dirt and grime and scratches. Behind the child was a dark wolf pup, his ears pressed to his head apologetically as he tried to pick his way silently through the wood behind the little urchin. Moonsong shook her head mirthfully as the pair disappeared once again, the wood seeming to swallow them up.
Six years had passed since she had conceived the child, five since she gave birth. Each new morn she praised Tunare for the miracle that was her daughter - and each evening she prayed for deliverence from the tiny terror. Well, at least some days.
Moonsong caught a glimpse of copper flesh behind some blackberry bushes and grinned evilly. Treewhisper would be trying to pluck the hard, sour green berries from the bush, she knew, as she had for the past two years, and then would spit them out and lecture Tunare on why the fruit should be ripe all year. Shadow would be 'guarding' her from the evil that was her mother - at least when it came to bathtime.
Quickly and silently, Moonsong uttered an ancient dweomer and laughed as she heard Treewhisper's angry shout. "Awww Mama! That's no fair! Ye snared me! Ye used magic! If ye didn't use magic, ye'd never have caught me!" Shadow began to slink away from the increasingly uncomfortable situation, but not before Moonsong caught him up in a web of magic as well.
Moonsong glared playfully at the the pup, shaking her finger. "No ye don't, Shadow! Ye're in just as much trouble as Treewhisper. Yer supposed ta be keepin' her outta trouble, not getting' her inta it!" Shadow whimpered softly and Moonsong softened her words with a scratch behind his ears. Shadow was easy.
Then she turned to chastise her daughter and blinked as she gazed at a blackberry bush, not a child. She bit back a curse and whipped her head about, trying to find the blasted child. "Treewhisper! Ye come back here! Ye know it'll be worse if I have ta chase ye down!"
The only response was a soft giggle in the distance and a cocky reply, "IF ye can catch me!" Moonsong rolled her eyes, motioned for Shadow to follow and ran after her wayward child. How she managed to protect a wood and raise this child at the same time, she did not know. How she would ever raise this child into the future Keeper of Silverglade she could not fathom. She trusted Tunare alone for that.
The chase lasted half an hour, Treewhisper dodging in and out of trees, crawling into small, child-sized places, with Moonsong and Shadow following a heartbeat behind. In sooth, Moonsong could have easily caught the child had she truly wanted to - but this had become their little game, and she treasured this innocent time spent with her daughter.
As the hunt came to an end, Moonsong scooped Tree up with one arm and slung her over her shoulder, then walked through the forest towards the creek, offering to sell her sack of 'mushrooms' to the surrounding wildlife. Treewhisper kicked and giggled and strenuously objected, affirming wholeheartedly, "I'm not a sack of mushrooms!!" Moonsong replied by winking at an old grizzly and saying, "Ye know where mushrooms grow, don't ye?"
All around them the wood was alive with rebirth: baby birds chirping for a worm, wolf pups and bear cubs testing their strength together in the fresh, spring grass. Moonsong breathed deeply of the scent of her wood and was pleased. All was well in Silverglade, and now that she had an heiress to the forest, all would be well in years to come.
By the time Moonsong reached the creek, Treewhisper had fallen fast asleep. The proud mama gently lowered Tree to the grass and pulled an old cotton cloth from her sidepack. She dipped the cloth in the water and began to carefully wash each filthy limb, each new scratch. Aye, this would be a wonderful place for her daughter, she thought, and her daughter would make a wonderful Keeper of Silverglade.
By Treewhisper, 4/7/00
Oh Woe that I should feel the pain
Of Kinaru biting in the rain
My hardened leg, which bleedeth lots
And makes me fizzle all my D.O.T.S.
Abuse I take from beauteous bard
As Caiya watcheth quite alarmed
A young, fair druid once was I
But now I nurse my blackened eye.
“Recruit,” she growled and turned her sight
upon my visage, full of fright
“How dare you bonketh me so hard!
You’re just a peon!” said the bard.
Oh WOE! Oh Zoonds! How can it be?
Kinaru spoke so angrily!
A heavy threat hung in the air --
The bard would tell the Lady fair
That I had bonkethed bard and bit
The foul Kinaru on the ummm ... Shin
And vexed her greatly on that night
When Bard and Druid had a fight.
To you who hear my woeful tale
Be warned! Fair bard is mean as hell
And if she offers you a bath,
Say aye or you will face her wrath!!!
Unrest
By Venomm, 6/8/99
I had awakened from my sleep in North Freeport. I was filled with energy to purge the evils that await outside of the walls Freeport. That is my quest… my mission…. my life…. I have very few friends outside of SCARAB and they are my family. I would gladly lay down my life for anyone one of them 1000 times over. I gave a HAIL over the guildstone to see who was out and about, my friend Horammer gave a shout back. " I am heading to unrest, care to join me?" Unrest… one of many vile places begging for purging. Hmmm Unrest was across the ocean. I hate boats, never liked them, never will. Horammer knew what I was thinking. "Come on… take some beer and a fishing pole…. and get out here. It will be fun to fight together again" Well the day was young and my unquenchable thirst for vengeance was growing. I told Horammer that I would join him. "Excellent my friend many undead will be crushed beneath our boots. I will meet you at the docks and take you there". As I boarded this vessel I could have sworn that it was sinking. There were only two other people on board so I kept to myself and sat in the middle of the boat, muttering "I hate boats" The trip went without problems. I jumped onto the docks of Butcher block to hear a "Hail Venomm" being not used to this area I looked around then down to see my friend, my brother dressed in what looked to like plate armor. The climate was much cooler than the barren desert of Northern Ro. There was no desert that I could see. We traveled to Kaladim, where he binded my spirit. He then centered my body and spirit. I felt healthier and stronger, now my thirst was screaming from the inside, and I felt good about how today was going to turn out. We traveled through some grassy land and slightly dense forest. We traveled for what seemed like hours, through mountains and even into the mountain itself. Much like befallen.
"We are here," he said. "Once we get inside go to the left and stick to the wall" This was his area he knew it well. So I followed. Once inside I was scoped the place out. It seemed to be a luxury manor of some rich fool who had let the undead take it over. It mattered not who owned the place this area reeked of evil. It took all that I had to keep from going out of control and killing everything in sight. "Since its just the two of us right now lets start with something easy" As he took two steps forward he seemed to lighten up with power and shot loose a bolt of energy that struck an undead creature. It charged him, me being the fighter I stepped into the path of the creature charging Horammer. It was saying something like kill you. I could not make out the words nor did I care. Everything went red and I let myself go berserk wielding a hammer in each hand. One was my father’s and the other I received as a gift form Lord Hawke. Then next thing I know Horammer is pulling me off of this rotting corpse that I have smashed to bits. "Easy my friend, do not expel all your energy on this one" As I stood up relatively unhurt I found myself seeing the weak points of this rotting beast. "Another?" Horammer asked. As if I was little boy asking for soup, "yes please" I said. I found myself becoming more confidant with these creatures. This is when things went down hill. My father had always said "think before you act. Know you enemy well, that even the smallest pebble could lay to best fighter to waste" After laying waste to another tormented soul, I felt a biting at my foot. I looked down to see what looked like a fire beetle of Northern Ro but these were nastier. However there were 5 of them, all nipping at me. I had lost much blood and I was very fatigued, my hammer swings seemed to have no strength behind them. I looked to Horammer, he was busy with another undead soul. I figured I had to lead them away, if I was going to die then it would be best if it was away from Horammer. I took them around a corner only to meet another tormented soul and a large wisp. The tormented soul started to say something like " kill you!" That was all he managed to say as my hammer took off the lower part of his jaw. But now in hindsight I see what his real goal was, to hold me down as the large wisp and the death beetles beat and slashed my body to a bloody pulp. I awoke in Kaladim where Horammer had binded me. I quickly rushed back as far as the mountains, concerned that Horammer was unprotected. However he had survived the battle and he meet me at the mountainside to lead me back the rest of the way. Upon retrieving my stuff Peabodi had joined us in the fight. Together the three of us killed many tormented undead, jack o’lanterns, and several barbed skeletons. By the time I had to sleep for the night I had gained much knowledge of these foul creatures. I have decided to stay here while and help Horammer and whoever else that wants to purge this manor of the evil undead. Besides, I don’t like boats, never have, and never will.
Anyone who has met one of our Scarab pets can test that the guild simply wouldn't be the same without them. This spot is especially dedicated to our wonderful animal friends.
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burdened with like weight of pain,
As much or more we should ourselves complain.
William Shakespeare
Greatest English dramatist & poet (1564 - 1616)
I love me some me!
Sometimes our memories don't fit nicely into quaint little categories. Some would say this is good reason to forget them. Well, we have something to say about that...
What guild member first springs to mind when you hear the word "linoleum"?
*Gyst clears his throat*
How has your experience in Scarab changed your outlook on the meaning of life?
It's really all about the friendships though... these guys have been great to me through a lot of evil things I've been through... not many "real life" friends can say that..
--------
"He whom love touches not walks in darkness." -- Plato
"If you ignore me and act on your own, everyone will die!"
Scarabfests
Notes for future reference...
. I introduced myself as Macedon and started to get to know everyone. It was weird and was apprehensive to go because I never met people that I've known online before but it was worth while.
Seriously, though, Scarabfest was the brainchild of Jay and I in consultation with our wives in 2000. We have not missed a year yet, despite the impending birth of my second child... and we're still not missing this year. Memories of Scarabfest are too numerous to count, but among my favorites are the first casino night and golf with the Europeans last year. (Their first time on a golf course)
Behold the glory of ScarabFest 2007!
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burdened with like weight of pain,
As much or more we should ourselves complain.
William Shakespeare
Greatest English dramatist & poet (1564 - 1616)
The insanity continues on Memorial Day 2008.
Scarabfest 2009, Houston, Texas. Booyah!
ScarabFest 2010. Boom baby!
Here's a place to post all your pics from Scarabfest 2010.
This means you. Do it. Now.
*does the Jedi mind trick*
The Founding
the first official guild UO presence was the last week or two of UO beta.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That is really close to the truth. The original 5 of us worked together on a real estate agent help desk where the clients preferred to yell rather explain the problem to you. It got to the point where I honestly said to a screamer “If you want to yell at me for 20 minutes, you can or you can tell me the problem and I can get you fixed and back to doing your job in 5, your call.” So the bond we formed here it really became a situation where it was us vs. them. Hence the AAHH comment above.
Anyhow, we started playing “Duke Nuke’em” first as individuals and then over the network. It came to the point where we would take over the room where the temp staff worked during the day and started playing death matches. The really funny story that goes with this is when the network admin came in one night to run some stress tests only to find the 5 of us were stressing the network. He could see on the network who was logged in… Temp1, Temp2, Temp3.. etc… So right away he knew it was us. He came into the room where we were playing cussing more than talking. He was a good guy about it though and gave us network cable and a hub. I distinctly remember “Get off my G-D network.” We did play others on the network, such as Warcraft 2, Masters of Orion 2. With Warcraft 2 we started designing our own maps and usually rotated turns making maps.
So then Ultima Online comes out. Hawke had the beta to it and of course installed it at work. Early rumors of UO said that you would be able to purchase land and build structures on it. We originally planned to be the “real estate agents” of this game. Although it never got off the ground that way, we all were hooked on the game instantly. When I first tried the beta at Hawke’s desk, I remember stealing anything I could get my hands on, to the point where my character could barely walk. The look of disgust on Hawke’s face was classic after he spent 10 minutes or so empting my bags so I could move. I wish I had a camera for it. The game went live and we formed S.C.A.R.A.B. (I still forget the exact meaning but it’s been posted before.) From there, we grew almost exponentially.
I also forgot to explain the blue and gray color scheme.
I avoid leadership and command duties. I had to find a way to bribe Hawke. At that time, Hawke was really into the civil war. Thus, I bribed him with the blue and gray color scheme, with civil war shades as the theme. It worked, I was off the hook to be the front man for the guild.
Then we discovered in UO being evil for the msot part was not our thing.... and around the EQ 1 (pre-live) timeline a guy named Gregor came up with honor-valor-loyalty and the old chivalry code.
Name: Ozwyn MacLean
Race: Human
Class: Cleric
Sex: Male
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Eye color: Green
Hair color: Brown
Ozwyn MacLean's Story
Distinguishing marks or tattoos
Scarab guild tattoo - right arm.
Biography
Ozwyn's journey into the Clerical following and Scarab was a most peculiar one by any standard.
His father was Bjorn Kalita, a notably savage and brutal Warrior, who delighted in raiding innocents and other banditry. His mother was a prisoner/victim of his father, and died when he was four.
He did not start out very well. As soon as he could walk, his father had him join a gang of bandit children who robbed graves and broke into people's houses, and other acts of common burglary.
One incident with his father's bandit friends in particular scarred him for life. His father had one of his friends over, the infamous troll warrior Guklak Toothrage, a bandit reviled even among his own kind as a cannibalistic eater of human and elven children. He and Bjorn were drunk one day, and he bought the right to cook and eat Ozwyn for 3 copper. Fortunately, the troll was so drunk he passed out, blacked out, and forgot the incident. However, Ozwyn still carries the memory of being held up by one leg and being told he was going to be Guklak's next meal.
Some of the other children had similarly bad backgrounds, and after a couple of years they conspired to go into business for themselves. Just before his ninth birthday, he slit his father's throat while he was asleep, looted his house for anything of value, and joined the other conspirators of the gang. For the next several years they engaged in minor banditry, skullduggery and did their own grave robbing. They particularly enjoyed grave robbing, for it appears to have the fewest risks.
However, as they began to dig up more and more graves, they began to have more close calls with Undead, and the foul, evil necromancers, who often dug up corpses for their own abominable uses.
For a while, they would not re-bury their looted graves, in hopes this would at least keep the Necromancers somewhat appeased. And it seemed to work for a while. But then the necromancers wanted live specimens to study. Several members of the gang disappeared, and Ozwyn suspected a necromancer might have abducted them in order to conduct some unnatural, unholy experiment.
His own luck ran out at the age of thirteen. He made the disastrous mistake of digging down into a grave that had just spawned a zombie. Naturally, it was digging up as he was digging down. So as he was knee deep in the grave the Zombie burst out, and he was face to face with the monster.
He thought he was dead, no, he KNEW he was dead, but instead something else happened. He felt a light from above him and also within him reach out and strike down the Zombie. He knew at that moment some other power; some greater force had marked him, and then used him to strike down the abomination. He felt different for a moment, he felt good, like for once in his life something right had been done.
He knew then that his days of grave robbing were over. He wasn't sure what he should do, or where he should go, but his was convinced his criminal days were over. When he went back to the gang's hideout, to tell the others he was leaving, he discovered that his encounter was not the only one with the undead.
The door to the hideout had been smashed open, and judging by the corpses of his dismembered friends, he judged that a mummy probably tracked down one of them and must have killed them all. The horror of the undead rampage, combined with the mishap he barely survived, solidified his determination to change.
Ozwyn looted what he could find, and enlisted in the Black Lotus Mercenary company. The Black Lotus guild of mercenaries was known to take almost anyone and not be too picky about the work they did. He served there for four years, serving out his term of duty well enough, but knowing at the end it was just not right for him. However, the experience had shown him a bit of the world, and that other possibilities were out there to be explored.
It was then that he turned to the priesthood of Solusek Ro, and found his proper calling. The Clerical way gave him a sense of peace, and filled him with a commitment to make good the sins of his youth, and prevent people like his father from preying on others. He decided to travel the world and apply his new beliefs in the most direct, physical manner possible on the forces of evil.
Almost immediately, he ran into Lord Hawke, and he expressed his ideas for fighting injustice, although not the reasons why. Along with Ravenn and Venomm they founded Scarab. The new guild quickly grew into a force to be reckoned with. In his time, he has served as assistant guildmaster, Master of arms, and Inner circle member.
Name: Ravenn
Class: Warrior
Race: Human
Height: 6'1
Weight: 200
Eyes: Green
Hair: Black
Ravenn's Story
Ravenn’s birth name is not known. He was born to a couple in a small farming village. For the first 12 years of his life, he learned when to plant, and when to harvest. His favorite job was gathering firewood in the forest. He would take his time while he was out, sometimes stopping to listen to the sounds of the forest and it’s inhabitants.
One day, while he was gathering firewood, he stopped in a small glade and sat down to rest. While he sat there daydreaming , a flock of ravens landed in the trees overhead, and began chattering in their raucous, uproarious manner. He sat and watched these creatures - their black feathers that glowed purple and blue in the sunlight, their intense curiosity, and their fearless antics mesmerized him until the sun was dipping low on the horizon. He ran home, only to be scolded thoroughly by his worried parents. This happened more and more, as the boy went into the forest to gather firewood, he would almost always come across the same flock of ravens. Time after time, he would stare for hours at them. Eventually, they started staring back. One day, while he sat watching, one of the larger ones swooped down from behind him, and landed on the ground less than a foot away. It stared at him for some time with its dark, piercing eyes. He stared back, not knowing what to do.
His grandmother had once told him they were harbingers of evil, witches’ familiars, and guardians of evil places. Looking into the eyes of the raven, he saw no evil – only curiosity, determination, and strength. He stood there, and after what seemed like an eternity, he lifted his hand to the bird. The large raven flinched then stood still. A moment later the raven appeared to nod its head at the young man, then it flew away with the rest of the flock following him.
This routine occurred for many months. Even when the weather turned cold the birds would always return to the trees and sit above the head of the young man. One spring day, almost a year to the day of his initial contact with the birds, his life changed forever.
It was a cool evening, he had dug out a hole that was currently filled with clear rainwater and was watching the birds take turns at bathing. Each bird would swoop down, bath, and then return to the tree as the next bird swooped down. The soothing sounds were cut short as an arrow cut the air, piercing one of the smaller ravens in the tree. One by one arrows began to pick off the ravens, until only a few remained. Confused, scared and angry the young man jumped into a nearby bush. The large raven, obviously the leader, did not move from his branch.
Out of a nearby thicket, two young orc pawns emerged, snarling and laughing at the twisted fun they were having. They began to snarl and grunt at each other in their own grotesque language, and were pointing at the raven. One of the orcs drew back his bow and let an arrow fly. The raven slid to the left, and took flight, dodging the arrow. The young man exploded out of his hiding place as both orcs aimed at the flying bird. He threw himself into one of them, knocking the orc into a tree which rendered him unconscious. The other orc brought his arm down on the young mans back, forcing the air from his lungs and dropping him to his knees. Blackness threatened him, and he resolved himself for the afterlife. The Orc screamed again, this time in pain, and the young man looked up in time to see the large raven with his claws in the orcs face, and its beak in the orcs eye. The Orc screamed again as blood flowed from the now destroyed eye, it turned and began to run, but tripped over a log, and fell. The young man tried to stand, but was helpless to see the orc fall on top of the bird that had saved his life. Darkness overtook him then.
At first there was only the soft smell of rain. He had no idea how long he had been knocked out. All at once his memories flooded into him, and he snapped his eyes open and looked up. The flock of ravens still lay scattered about the glen, impaled on dark, orc arrows. He stood, and found that the orc that he had tackled was dead, a heavy branch had punctured its chest when he was tackled. He turned his attention to the other orc, his mind racing, his last thoughts were of the raven that had saved him.
The orc was gone. All that remained was the crushed body of the raven, the orcs eye still stuck on its blood encrusted beak. The young man wept, his heart heavy. He took time to gather up all the dead birds, and began the long walk home.
As he approached his small cottage he saw his parents standing outside waiting for him. His mother screamed as the blood soaked boy dumped the pile of dead birds outside the home, and without a word got a shovel to dig graves. His parents watched, and knew the boy in front of them was not their son.
The next few years were painful, the family tried to get the boy to return to normal. But constant mumbling about the one-eyed orc drove his parents to the brink of insanity. One morning near his 16th birthday he awoke to find his parents gone. This mattered not to him, his soul screamed for justice, His soul screamed to drive the vile force of evil from his land, his soul screamed to bring back that quiet days with the raven. He packed up some clothes and food and headed to Freeport hoping to find information about the one-eyed orc who haunts his dreams.
As he crossed into the commonlands he found himself face to face with a small orc pawn. The orc seemed surprised, and the boy swung his heavy backpack like a flail. Without thinking he screamed the word "raven" at the top his lungs, and with the power of adrenaline and hatred beat the orc pawn to a bloody pulp. He continued to beat the dead orc for several minutes, until he collapsed on the corpse out of exhaustion.
His body pulsed as a blue aura surrounded him. He lifted his head to see a man casting a spell, and again the blue aura surrounded him. For a moment he felt warm, and at peace.
"It’s a healing spell friend Raven." Said the man. I assumed you were wounded after your fight with the orc. "My name is Ozwyn, I am glad you are well."
"Why do you call me Raven?" the boy asked, standing up, his battle fury gone. He did note that this orc had both its eyes.
"It is what you screamed in battle" Ozwyn said, Puzzled. "I assumed it was your name"
"It IS my name," The boy said, suddenly confident, as if the name was his all his life.
"Excellent friend Raven, come with me to Freeport. I am meeting a man and woman named Hawke. We have this crazy idea about starting a guild."
Raven agreed, and on the way to Freeport told the cleric his story. Ozwyn explained that this guild would be the perfect, and could aid him in his search for the one-eyed orc. Ravenn agreed.
Name: Venomm Quickstrike
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Warrior
Sex: male
Height : 5'2"
Weight: 125
Eye color: brown
Hair color: brown
Venomm's Story
In a small village lived a blacksmith with his wife and only son. For years helping his father in the small forge was his life and he enjoyed it. The only times he was in trouble was when he set off traps so hunters could not catch anything. He believed that hunting should only be for survival and not for sport. His father taught him how to fight with swords and spears and bows, however it was the hammer that the boy liked. His father said he made it out of a rock that fell from the sky. The boy became proficient on the hammer and used it to set off traps set by big game hunters.
Several years later, the boy was off in the forest setting off traps, visiting his favorite part of the woods when a group of hunters came into town. They massacred everyone in town --some villagers had it worse than others. One of the worst was his father. His father was forced to walk through the traps they used to snare animals to save his mother from animals that were bred to kill. Needless to say it was not a pleasant sight. Enraged with this sight the boy gathered up what he could. The town was pretty much burnt to the ground, so his supplies were limited. He left his village and never looked back.
It seemed like months that he tracked this hunter, destroying his traps and freeing the animals that were caught in them. Then one day he had tracked the hunter to a familiar part of the forest. The boy drove the thought from his mind because the hunter was there, eviscerating a yearling. Vengeance was calling. As leaped down from the trees swinging his hammer he caught the hunter by surprise. In am manner of moments the boy disarmed and crippled him, but instead of moving in for the kill he paused. He wanted the hunter to feel trapped to feel despair. Most of all he wanted him to feel PAIN. All the pain that his village went through. The hunter begged for mercy. The boy just stood there staring at the pitiful mass resembling a human, "no", the boy said, " not today, not ever, for scum like you". Then and idea came to him, knowing the hunters traps and where he had hidden them, retrieved them all. Then, one at a time, set them off on the hunter. As the hunter breathed his last breath the boy realized where he was. This was the one part of the forest that brought him peace. As he realized that he brought destruction to this peaceful area, he had also brought justice. He then swore and oath that where ever evil reared its ugly head he would be there. He would become poison to all evil predators. He would become VENOMM.
Several years later deep in the forest Venomm was hunting down a party of bandits who had been ambushing heavily traveled merchant routes. As he was tracking a group of bandits he heard the sounds of battle. He rushed quickly towards the noise fearing the worst only to find a group of bandits had bitten off more than they could chew. Warriors disguised as merchants set a trap for them. When Venomm saw what was happening he could not believe it. He immediately jumped into the fray. When it was over Lordhawke introduced himself and three others. Lady Hawke, Ozwyn, and Ravenn. He said that he was forming a guild called Scarab and asked him to join them. The fact there were other people like him filled him with hope. Hope that together, they could bring justice to this world. How could he say no??
Scarab has done some crazy and amazing things... some of which have been caught on tape. Check them out!
Serrenitty's escape from Ogrimmar
Moordread and Devlyn ran Serrenitty's character Ogrimmar before she returned from a business trip to Japan. They managed to get her to the instanced area known as Ragefire Chasm deep in the center of the city. It took Serrenitty a total of seven corpse runs to get out... and they got it all on tape.
DAOC All Father Alliance Video
This was done way back in DAOC when Dolvin and Scarab united Midgard on the Guinevere server to cross into forgeign lands to wage war on Albion and Hibernia. It was a truly impressive feat as I don't think alliances of that kind existed before us. I'm sure others can speak to the recodnition we received in game and from Mythic as a result of what we acomplished. The video captures the events of the day the alliance was forged. ~ Macedon
For some reason that we simply cannot explain, we still find people who are willing to be joined with us in the bonds of matrimony. Truly, such a bizarre occurrence is indeed worthy of celebration!
On August 5, 2005 Gyst married his lovely wife Serinya at the Salt Lake Temple. Asty came along and I guess you could say he was the best man.
We held a reception and I swear I didn't know half the people who came, but they left presents and ate our cake, so fun was had by all.
About a month after our marriage we packed up and flew to China for 4 months for my studies. What a way to kick off a new family, eh!?
Gyst
Thalamos and Sadye/Shadowbane got married in 2005. They met through Scarab. A third of more of the people at the wedding were guildies.
"If you ignore me and act on your own, everyone will die!"
Scarab reaches far beyond the limits of online games. Real Life relationships are what we are all about… but how well do you know Scarab in the RL realm?
This is the place to put your Scarab RL knowledge to the test. The answers are hidden beneath their respective questions. Just highlight the text and the answer will appear. For example:
Answer: Boo! Did I scare you?
And now, let the quiz begin!
1. Who was not one of the founders of Scarab?
a. Ravenn
b. Jayfoot
c. Ozwyn
d. Venomm
e. Hawke
Answer: b. Jayfoot -- All the others worked together at a place called MRIS supporting real estate agents.
2. Who is married to Joy?
a. Calanctus
b. Dolvin
c. Frostfyre
d. Maska
e. Skee
Answer: d. Maska – they’ve been married for 13+ years.
3. Who of the following does not live in the same complex?
a. Blackrabbit
b. Ravenn
c. Grymes
d. Ozwyn
e. Horamir
Answer: b. Ravenn – he lives down the street.
4. Who was the best man at Maska’s wedding?
a. Vroton
b. Veris
c. Skee
d. Dolvin
e. Horamir
Answer: c. Skee – and Maska was Skee’s best man too.
5. Who is married to Torhald?
a. Seneby
b. Emrylynn
c. Meniva
d. Boann
e. Rose
Answer: e. Rose
6. Who did Lauryana know in RL before joining Scarab?
a. Hawke
b. Invictar
c. Caradin
d. Dias
e. Abira
Answer: b. Invictar
7. Who does not belong to the same family?
a. Grimmbeard
b. Rosey
c. Borgu
d. Gloflandil
Answer: c. Borgu – Gloflandil and Rosey are married. Grimmbeard is their son.
8. Who is Goonar’s brother?
a. Thalamos
b. Locnar
c. Ikky
d. Vulcan
e. Karasunaki
Answer: e. Karasunaki
9. Who has known Saebian for 13+ years?
a. Torhald
b. Asty
c. Ikky
d. Bizz
e. Yoldie
Answer: a. Torhald
10. Who has known Kallendal, Alondrix, and Orionius for 25+ years?
a. Locnar
b. Mogtak
c. Yoldie
d. Gyst
e. Jayfoot
Answer: a. Locnar
11. Who does Gyst know in RL?
a. Fishie & Frostfyre
b. Asty & Fishie
c. Nydmond & Asty
d. Lochlan & Nydmond
e. Fanarie & Locnar
Answer: c. Nydmond & Asty – They went to college together. Gyst and Asty were roommates.
12. Who did not know each other before joining Scarab?
a. Calanctus and Selgus
b. Tarmux and Locnar
c. Locnar and Fanarie
d. Boann and Abira
e. Ozwyn and Dias
Answer: e. Ozwyn and Dias -- they met in UO. Calanctus and Selgus are friends in RL. Tarmux is Locnar’s brother. Locnar and Fanarie are married. Boann and Abira are married.
13. Who of the following did not go to school together?
a. Skee
b. Vroton
c. Mogtak
d. Veris
Answer: c. Mogtak
14. Who first created the Code of Conduct: Honor, Valor, Loyalty?
a. Lady Hawke
b. Lord Hawke
c. Gregor
d. Ozwyn
e. Venomm
Answer: c. Gregor
15. Which happy couple first met through Scarab?
a. Jayfoot & Celia
b. Thalamos & Sadye
c. Dolvin & Leigh
d. Fanarie & Locnar
Answer: b. Thalamos & Sadye.
16. Who is a RL brother of Quaser?
a. Gyst
b. Asty
c. Ixchael
d. Locnar
e. Bizz
Answer: c. Ixchael
That’s all for now… but we always welcome additions!
