The tall tales & tragedies of the Chattering Scroll Inn

[tokyobiohazard]

Ellundil couldn't help but :facepalm: at the amount of mead such a small creature was able to down in a matter of seconds. He knew she was going to say something stupid during "tale time" that she would surely send Rhaine into a furious rage. (Seeing as she had two full tankards already) and took her to a room, layed her down, and proceeded out the door, ready to listen to Kalin and Rhaine's tale(s).

Reona grabbed hold of Ellundil's arm as he made his way through the doorframe and turned him to face her. She looked up into his eyes with a serious expression, "I'm fine, and when you return, I have some things that you need to know. Go listen to their tales, and retire when you've heard everything they have to say. My tale and their tales shall be part of your mind-breaking lessons."

 

With that, she crawled into bed, "Wake me when you get back. I may not have gotten drunk, but I am feeling the effects of this stuff."

[iansaltman]

Ellundil couldn't help but :facepalm: at the amount of mead such a small creature was able to down in a matter of seconds. He knew she was going to say something stupid during "tale time" that she would surely send Rhaine into a furious rage. (Seeing as she had two full tankards already) and took her to a room, layed her down, and proceeded out the door, ready to listen to Kalin and Rhaine's tale(s).

Reona grabbed hold of Ellundil's arm as he made his way through the doorframe and turned him to face her. She looked up into his eyes with a serious expression, "I'm fine, and when you return, I have some things that you need to know. Go listen to their tales, and retire when you've heard everything they have to say. My tale and their tales shall be part of your mind-breaking lessons."

 

With that, she crawled into bed, "Wake me when you get back. I may not have gotten drunk, but I am feeling the effects of this stuff."

 

:facepalm: Ellundil thought "So so drunk..." Then continued downstairs and plopped next to Kalin downing some mead.

[GrueMaster]

 

Rhaine smiled, taking another sip of her wine and setting it down. "Indeed I am, Kalin."

 

She pulled her hood back down, fluffing her auburn mane and leaning forward, her elbows on the table. The plates of her vambraces glinted in the candlelight. "I feel I must warn you, my tale is longer than most. But it is time it should be told in full. I have not voiced my history to anyone before, and I would be glad for someone to hear it. Especially someone from my own home plane."

 

She sighed and began, "I was born one hundred and thirty two years ago, in the small Sword Coast town of West Harbor. It is a tiny swamp village, no more than a speck on the map between Neverwinter and Waterdeep. There, I was raised by my foster father - a wood elf ranger named Daeghun Farlong. My true father - a human, I'm told - I never knew. My mother was a sun elf named Esmerelle. She died shortly after I was born, along with most of the other townsfolk, in a tragic attack on the village. I survived, but just barely. A 'miracle child' I was called.

 

"When I was a teen, I found my calling. In those days, Kelemvor Lyonsbane was quite young. Having just ascended to the Throne of the Dead, his priests were looking for new recruits to spread the faith. Shortly after my twelfth birthday, one such priest stopped in West Harbor on his way to Neverwinter. The priest and I took to each other as soon as we met. His name was Brother Dunstan, and he soon proved to be more of a father to me than Daeghun. He was convinced that I would make a good acolyte for the Kelemvorite clergy, and he asked to take me with him back to Waterdeep. Daeghun was none too pleased, but upon my insistence, let me go.

 

"At the time, I didn't know why I was suddenly so happy. Little did I or Dunstan know that I had already been marked by Kelemvor. This would prove to be a problem later on."

 

Rhaine paused to take another sip of wine. She fingered her gauntlets absently, "I actually began my training at the Temple of Kelemvor in Waterdeep as a paladin. I had a knack for swordfighting, and I was well on my way to becoming a squire for a Knight of the Eternal Order, when the priests made an astonishing discovery. During a sparring session, I accidentally cast a magical shield upon myself, with no incantation or knowledge of the spell whatsoever. The other acolytes called me a freak. Most of the instructors were baffled. But the High Father knew what had happened. He was an old cleric, a holdover from Myrkul's regime. He called me a 'Favored Soul.' Just like a sorcerer has no need for spellbooks or scrolls, as opposed to a wizard, a Favored Soul already has divine magic within them, and thus, has no need at all to pray for power.

 

"Suddenly, my course of study changed, and so did my life. I was trained personally by the High Father...no intermediate cleric, not even Brother Dunstan, was trusted with my instruction. For melee combat, I was trained in our Lord's favored weapon: a bastard sword. Though, by that point, I required little additional teaching. It was no wonder I was fit for a paladin's swordplay - I had already been chosen to fight in such a manner by a higher power. It was ingrained in my very soul.

 

"I studied the path of a warpriest. Instead of focusing on magical protection, I was trained to eliminate enemies - particularly undead ones - with devastating offensive spells. It is no surprise that the acolytes who once made fun of me began to flatter me and offer friendship. But I shrugged them off. In those days, I had only Dunstan, who eventually became a Father in the church. It was he who taught me the tenets of Kelemvor's faith, and stressed to me the importance of the church's doctrine.

 

"Finally, when I was twenty-five, my training was complete. I was one of only five acolytes who graduated with the coveted epithet of 'Doomguide' - able to cast some of the most powerful spells available to a Kelemvorite. I returned home to West Harbor, just in time for the Harvest Fair. Unfortunately, the day of celebration turned into a massacre. I was forced to investigate the attack, and my journey took me all over the Sword Coast. I eventually became a Knight of Neverwinter, in the service of Lord Nasher, with my own land and castle.

 

"It was at this castle of Crossroad Keep that I defeated the army of the legendary King of Shadows. For twelve hours, my mere three hundred men and I held off an endless army of undead, and the next morning, the King of Shadows himself was slain by my hand. But not without a heavy loss of life. Several of my dearest friends and over half of my vassals perished. Yet, I was unaware of this at first.

 

"I had been transported to Rashemen by some strange feat of magic, held captive and under a sleeping spell by a Red Wizard, and then possessed by an ancient curse. This curse, the 'Spirit Eater,' lived within me for the next few months. I was forced to feed on spirits, which would accelerate the curse and lead to my death. I could refuse to devour them as well, but that, too, would lead to death. I was suddenly faced with two ways to die, and neither was particularly attractive. All the while, I was breaking major tenets of my Lord's faith. I felt surely he would turn away from me in disgust at my actions, regardless of whether or not I could help them. It did not help when I discovered that the Spirit Eater had been Akachi, the fabled Chosen of Myrkul who had turned his back on his god and led a rebellion against the City of the Dead...and failed. His existence as a ravenous hunger had been punishment for his betrayal.

 

"I became especially worried when, in my search for answers, I was forced to breach the barriers between worlds and inadvertently called a repeat of this ancient Crusade against Kelemvor himself in his own realm: the grey Fugue Plane. Despite the insistence of my magically summoned 'allies,' I refused to lead the Crusade. I chose to defend the City of Judgment against a horde of angelic, demonic, undead, and draconic enemies. Perhaps it was this simple act that earned my forgiveness...the fact that I verbally refused to betray my god like the Spirit Eater had before me. After the battle, I met Kelemvor face-to-face, and it was he who gave me the secret of lifting the curse of the Spirit Eater.

 

"After a great spiritual ordeal, the curse was finally ended. Kelemvor was there to greet me, and he praised me for the good I had done. To my utter amazement, he was pleased with me. Despite the fact that my very living mortal presence on the Fugue Plane was a violation of one of his most sacred laws, he was happy. I had ended a foolish cycle of Crusades and had halted the suffering of a spirit whose punishment had been overdone. He forgave me, and offered me the highest place of honors at his side upon my...return."

 

She sighed, eyes closed momentarily. "Ever since then, I have served my Lord unwaveringly. If anything gave me a reason to dedicate my entire life to his work, then it was his forgiveness. Even if I could not help what I did, even if I had no other choice, I still felt guilty for breaking so many laws...so many rules. I had been faced with damnation - and he waved it all away as if it were nothing."

 

Rhaine sipped her wine calmly, her eyes distant, "Many years and deeds later, I found out I had been Chosen...given a spark of true divinity by Kelemvor himself. My aging was effectively halted. And my fate was sealed - in time, I will become completely divine, and my place will be amongst the gods themselves. The reason for this action is still unknown to me. Perhaps he thought me the only one capable of handling the greatest of the church's threats...perhaps I was the only one he trusted. Either way, my responsibilities are now greater than most mortals would be willing to accept.

 

"Which is why I am here. Portals from Toril to Nirn were recently discovered by the gods, and it was through one of these that Kelemvor instructed me to go. He spoke of an undead threat festering here in Tamriel that could spill over into Faerun if not stopped. Apparently, this threat is large enough to cause a disaster if allowed to go unchecked. He told me to seek out this inn, its patrons, and a Breton sage called Myrmaad. Apparently, someone here knows more about this threat, and I must have more information if I am to proceed."

 

 

 

Family. Kalin mulled over the word after hearing about Rhaine's childhood. How long has it been since I had one? It must be close to ...Fifty years? Is that right? Kalin became confused over Rhaine's telling of the Battle of Crossroads Keep. "Wait a moment," he said, perplexed, "Rhaine, that can't be right. I was only 25 years old when the King of Shadows came, and from your story, you were 25 at the time as well. But it's only been 45 years since that battle, so how can you be 132 now? We should both be about 70 years old!" Kalin was lost, wondering where the difference in age had come from. "How can you be older when we were born around the same time?!"

[AurianaValoria1]

 

Rhaine smiled, taking another sip of her wine and setting it down. "Indeed I am, Kalin."

 

She pulled her hood back down, fluffing her auburn mane and leaning forward, her elbows on the table. The plates of her vambraces glinted in the candlelight. "I feel I must warn you, my tale is longer than most. But it is time it should be told in full. I have not voiced my history to anyone before, and I would be glad for someone to hear it. Especially someone from my own home plane."

 

She sighed and began, "I was born one hundred and thirty two years ago, in the small Sword Coast town of West Harbor. It is a tiny swamp village, no more than a speck on the map between Neverwinter and Waterdeep. There, I was raised by my foster father - a wood elf ranger named Daeghun Farlong. My true father - a human, I'm told - I never knew. My mother was a sun elf named Esmerelle. She died shortly after I was born, along with most of the other townsfolk, in a tragic attack on the village. I survived, but just barely. A 'miracle child' I was called.

 

"When I was a teen, I found my calling. In those days, Kelemvor Lyonsbane was quite young. Having just ascended to the Throne of the Dead, his priests were looking for new recruits to spread the faith. Shortly after my twelfth birthday, one such priest stopped in West Harbor on his way to Neverwinter. The priest and I took to each other as soon as we met. His name was Brother Dunstan, and he soon proved to be more of a father to me than Daeghun. He was convinced that I would make a good acolyte for the Kelemvorite clergy, and he asked to take me with him back to Waterdeep. Daeghun was none too pleased, but upon my insistence, let me go.

 

"At the time, I didn't know why I was suddenly so happy. Little did I or Dunstan know that I had already been marked by Kelemvor. This would prove to be a problem later on."

 

Rhaine paused to take another sip of wine. She fingered her gauntlets absently, "I actually began my training at the Temple of Kelemvor in Waterdeep as a paladin. I had a knack for swordfighting, and I was well on my way to becoming a squire for a Knight of the Eternal Order, when the priests made an astonishing discovery. During a sparring session, I accidentally cast a magical shield upon myself, with no incantation or knowledge of the spell whatsoever. The other acolytes called me a freak. Most of the instructors were baffled. But the High Father knew what had happened. He was an old cleric, a holdover from Myrkul's regime. He called me a 'Favored Soul.' Just like a sorcerer has no need for spellbooks or scrolls, as opposed to a wizard, a Favored Soul already has divine magic within them, and thus, has no need at all to pray for power.

 

"Suddenly, my course of study changed, and so did my life. I was trained personally by the High Father...no intermediate cleric, not even Brother Dunstan, was trusted with my instruction. For melee combat, I was trained in our Lord's favored weapon: a bastard sword. Though, by that point, I required little additional teaching. It was no wonder I was fit for a paladin's swordplay - I had already been chosen to fight in such a manner by a higher power. It was ingrained in my very soul.

 

"I studied the path of a warpriest. Instead of focusing on magical protection, I was trained to eliminate enemies - particularly undead ones - with devastating offensive spells. It is no surprise that the acolytes who once made fun of me began to flatter me and offer friendship. But I shrugged them off. In those days, I had only Dunstan, who eventually became a Father in the church. It was he who taught me the tenets of Kelemvor's faith, and stressed to me the importance of the church's doctrine.

 

"Finally, when I was twenty-five, my training was complete. I was one of only five acolytes who graduated with the coveted epithet of 'Doomguide' - able to cast some of the most powerful spells available to a Kelemvorite. I returned home to West Harbor, just in time for the Harvest Fair. Unfortunately, the day of celebration turned into a massacre. I was forced to investigate the attack, and my journey took me all over the Sword Coast. I eventually became a Knight of Neverwinter, in the service of Lord Nasher, with my own land and castle.

 

"It was at this castle of Crossroad Keep that I defeated the army of the legendary King of Shadows. For twelve hours, my mere three hundred men and I held off an endless army of undead, and the next morning, the King of Shadows himself was slain by my hand. But not without a heavy loss of life. Several of my dearest friends and over half of my vassals perished. Yet, I was unaware of this at first.

 

"I had been transported to Rashemen by some strange feat of magic, held captive and under a sleeping spell by a Red Wizard, and then possessed by an ancient curse. This curse, the 'Spirit Eater,' lived within me for the next few months. I was forced to feed on spirits, which would accelerate the curse and lead to my death. I could refuse to devour them as well, but that, too, would lead to death. I was suddenly faced with two ways to die, and neither was particularly attractive. All the while, I was breaking major tenets of my Lord's faith. I felt surely he would turn away from me in disgust at my actions, regardless of whether or not I could help them. It did not help when I discovered that the Spirit Eater had been Akachi, the fabled Chosen of Myrkul who had turned his back on his god and led a rebellion against the City of the Dead...and failed. His existence as a ravenous hunger had been punishment for his betrayal.

 

"I became especially worried when, in my search for answers, I was forced to breach the barriers between worlds and inadvertently called a repeat of this ancient Crusade against Kelemvor himself in his own realm: the grey Fugue Plane. Despite the insistence of my magically summoned 'allies,' I refused to lead the Crusade. I chose to defend the City of Judgment against a horde of angelic, demonic, undead, and draconic enemies. Perhaps it was this simple act that earned my forgiveness...the fact that I verbally refused to betray my god like the Spirit Eater had before me. After the battle, I met Kelemvor face-to-face, and it was he who gave me the secret of lifting the curse of the Spirit Eater.

 

"After a great spiritual ordeal, the curse was finally ended. Kelemvor was there to greet me, and he praised me for the good I had done. To my utter amazement, he was pleased with me. Despite the fact that my very living mortal presence on the Fugue Plane was a violation of one of his most sacred laws, he was happy. I had ended a foolish cycle of Crusades and had halted the suffering of a spirit whose punishment had been overdone. He forgave me, and offered me the highest place of honors at his side upon my...return."

 

She sighed, eyes closed momentarily. "Ever since then, I have served my Lord unwaveringly. If anything gave me a reason to dedicate my entire life to his work, then it was his forgiveness. Even if I could not help what I did, even if I had no other choice, I still felt guilty for breaking so many laws...so many rules. I had been faced with damnation - and he waved it all away as if it were nothing."

 

Rhaine sipped her wine calmly, her eyes distant, "Many years and deeds later, I found out I had been Chosen...given a spark of true divinity by Kelemvor himself. My aging was effectively halted. And my fate was sealed - in time, I will become completely divine, and my place will be amongst the gods themselves. The reason for this action is still unknown to me. Perhaps he thought me the only one capable of handling the greatest of the church's threats...perhaps I was the only one he trusted. Either way, my responsibilities are now greater than most mortals would be willing to accept.

 

"Which is why I am here. Portals from Toril to Nirn were recently discovered by the gods, and it was through one of these that Kelemvor instructed me to go. He spoke of an undead threat festering here in Tamriel that could spill over into Faerun if not stopped. Apparently, this threat is large enough to cause a disaster if allowed to go unchecked. He told me to seek out this inn, its patrons, and a Breton sage called Myrmaad. Apparently, someone here knows more about this threat, and I must have more information if I am to proceed."

 

 

 

Family. Kalin mulled over the word after hearing about Rhaine's childhood. How long has it been since I had one? It must be close to ...Fifty years? Is that right? Kalin became confused over Rhaine's telling of the Battle of Crossroads Keep. "Wait a moment," he said, perplexed, "Rhaine, that can't be right. I was only 25 years old when the King of Shadows came, and from your story, you were 25 at the time as well. But it's only been 45 years since that battle, so how can you be 132 now? We should both be about 70 years old!" Kalin was lost, wondering where the difference in age had come from. "How can you be older when we were born around the same time?!"

 

Rhaine's brow furrowed, "Kalin, the current year in Faerun is 1479 DR. The Battle of Crossroad Keep occurred in 1374....it's been 105 years since then!"

 

She leaned forward, her eyes bright in realization, "That portal explosion not only transported you to Nirn, but forward in time as well, didn't it? I have no doubt it erased some of your memory, too. Do you remember the Spellplague of 1379 at all? The shift in pantheons? The destruction of the Weave?"

[GrueMaster]

 

Rhaine smiled, taking another sip of her wine and setting it down. "Indeed I am, Kalin."

 

She pulled her hood back down, fluffing her auburn mane and leaning forward, her elbows on the table. The plates of her vambraces glinted in the candlelight. "I feel I must warn you, my tale is longer than most. But it is time it should be told in full. I have not voiced my history to anyone before, and I would be glad for someone to hear it. Especially someone from my own home plane."

 

She sighed and began, "I was born one hundred and thirty two years ago, in the small Sword Coast town of West Harbor. It is a tiny swamp village, no more than a speck on the map between Neverwinter and Waterdeep. There, I was raised by my foster father - a wood elf ranger named Daeghun Farlong. My true father - a human, I'm told - I never knew. My mother was a sun elf named Esmerelle. She died shortly after I was born, along with most of the other townsfolk, in a tragic attack on the village. I survived, but just barely. A 'miracle child' I was called.

 

"When I was a teen, I found my calling. In those days, Kelemvor Lyonsbane was quite young. Having just ascended to the Throne of the Dead, his priests were looking for new recruits to spread the faith. Shortly after my twelfth birthday, one such priest stopped in West Harbor on his way to Neverwinter. The priest and I took to each other as soon as we met. His name was Brother Dunstan, and he soon proved to be more of a father to me than Daeghun. He was convinced that I would make a good acolyte for the Kelemvorite clergy, and he asked to take me with him back to Waterdeep. Daeghun was none too pleased, but upon my insistence, let me go.

 

"At the time, I didn't know why I was suddenly so happy. Little did I or Dunstan know that I had already been marked by Kelemvor. This would prove to be a problem later on."

 

Rhaine paused to take another sip of wine. She fingered her gauntlets absently, "I actually began my training at the Temple of Kelemvor in Waterdeep as a paladin. I had a knack for swordfighting, and I was well on my way to becoming a squire for a Knight of the Eternal Order, when the priests made an astonishing discovery. During a sparring session, I accidentally cast a magical shield upon myself, with no incantation or knowledge of the spell whatsoever. The other acolytes called me a freak. Most of the instructors were baffled. But the High Father knew what had happened. He was an old cleric, a holdover from Myrkul's regime. He called me a 'Favored Soul.' Just like a sorcerer has no need for spellbooks or scrolls, as opposed to a wizard, a Favored Soul already has divine magic within them, and thus, has no need at all to pray for power.

 

"Suddenly, my course of study changed, and so did my life. I was trained personally by the High Father...no intermediate cleric, not even Brother Dunstan, was trusted with my instruction. For melee combat, I was trained in our Lord's favored weapon: a bastard sword. Though, by that point, I required little additional teaching. It was no wonder I was fit for a paladin's swordplay - I had already been chosen to fight in such a manner by a higher power. It was ingrained in my very soul.

 

"I studied the path of a warpriest. Instead of focusing on magical protection, I was trained to eliminate enemies - particularly undead ones - with devastating offensive spells. It is no surprise that the acolytes who once made fun of me began to flatter me and offer friendship. But I shrugged them off. In those days, I had only Dunstan, who eventually became a Father in the church. It was he who taught me the tenets of Kelemvor's faith, and stressed to me the importance of the church's doctrine.

 

"Finally, when I was twenty-five, my training was complete. I was one of only five acolytes who graduated with the coveted epithet of 'Doomguide' - able to cast some of the most powerful spells available to a Kelemvorite. I returned home to West Harbor, just in time for the Harvest Fair. Unfortunately, the day of celebration turned into a massacre. I was forced to investigate the attack, and my journey took me all over the Sword Coast. I eventually became a Knight of Neverwinter, in the service of Lord Nasher, with my own land and castle.

 

"It was at this castle of Crossroad Keep that I defeated the army of the legendary King of Shadows. For twelve hours, my mere three hundred men and I held off an endless army of undead, and the next morning, the King of Shadows himself was slain by my hand. But not without a heavy loss of life. Several of my dearest friends and over half of my vassals perished. Yet, I was unaware of this at first.

 

"I had been transported to Rashemen by some strange feat of magic, held captive and under a sleeping spell by a Red Wizard, and then possessed by an ancient curse. This curse, the 'Spirit Eater,' lived within me for the next few months. I was forced to feed on spirits, which would accelerate the curse and lead to my death. I could refuse to devour them as well, but that, too, would lead to death. I was suddenly faced with two ways to die, and neither was particularly attractive. All the while, I was breaking major tenets of my Lord's faith. I felt surely he would turn away from me in disgust at my actions, regardless of whether or not I could help them. It did not help when I discovered that the Spirit Eater had been Akachi, the fabled Chosen of Myrkul who had turned his back on his god and led a rebellion against the City of the Dead...and failed. His existence as a ravenous hunger had been punishment for his betrayal.

 

"I became especially worried when, in my search for answers, I was forced to breach the barriers between worlds and inadvertently called a repeat of this ancient Crusade against Kelemvor himself in his own realm: the grey Fugue Plane. Despite the insistence of my magically summoned 'allies,' I refused to lead the Crusade. I chose to defend the City of Judgment against a horde of angelic, demonic, undead, and draconic enemies. Perhaps it was this simple act that earned my forgiveness...the fact that I verbally refused to betray my god like the Spirit Eater had before me. After the battle, I met Kelemvor face-to-face, and it was he who gave me the secret of lifting the curse of the Spirit Eater.

 

"After a great spiritual ordeal, the curse was finally ended. Kelemvor was there to greet me, and he praised me for the good I had done. To my utter amazement, he was pleased with me. Despite the fact that my very living mortal presence on the Fugue Plane was a violation of one of his most sacred laws, he was happy. I had ended a foolish cycle of Crusades and had halted the suffering of a spirit whose punishment had been overdone. He forgave me, and offered me the highest place of honors at his side upon my...return."

 

She sighed, eyes closed momentarily. "Ever since then, I have served my Lord unwaveringly. If anything gave me a reason to dedicate my entire life to his work, then it was his forgiveness. Even if I could not help what I did, even if I had no other choice, I still felt guilty for breaking so many laws...so many rules. I had been faced with damnation - and he waved it all away as if it were nothing."

 

Rhaine sipped her wine calmly, her eyes distant, "Many years and deeds later, I found out I had been Chosen...given a spark of true divinity by Kelemvor himself. My aging was effectively halted. And my fate was sealed - in time, I will become completely divine, and my place will be amongst the gods themselves. The reason for this action is still unknown to me. Perhaps he thought me the only one capable of handling the greatest of the church's threats...perhaps I was the only one he trusted. Either way, my responsibilities are now greater than most mortals would be willing to accept.

 

"Which is why I am here. Portals from Toril to Nirn were recently discovered by the gods, and it was through one of these that Kelemvor instructed me to go. He spoke of an undead threat festering here in Tamriel that could spill over into Faerun if not stopped. Apparently, this threat is large enough to cause a disaster if allowed to go unchecked. He told me to seek out this inn, its patrons, and a Breton sage called Myrmaad. Apparently, someone here knows more about this threat, and I must have more information if I am to proceed."

 

 

 

Family. Kalin mulled over the word after hearing about Rhaine's childhood. How long has it been since I had one? It must be close to ...Fifty years? Is that right? Kalin became confused over Rhaine's telling of the Battle of Crossroads Keep. "Wait a moment," he said, perplexed, "Rhaine, that can't be right. I was only 25 years old when the King of Shadows came, and from your story, you were 25 at the time as well. But it's only been 45 years since that battle, so how can you be 132 now? We should both be about 70 years old!" Kalin was lost, wondering where the difference in age had come from. "How can you be older when we were born around the same time?!"

 

Rhaine's brow furrowed, "Kalin, the current year in Faerun is 1479 DR. The Battle of Crossroad Keep occurred in 1374....it's been 105 years since then!"

 

She leaned forward, her eyes bright in realization, "That portal explosion not only transported you to Nirn, but forward in time as well, didn't it? I have no doubt it erased some of your memory, too. Do you remember the Spellplague of 1379 at all? The shift in pantheons? The destruction of the Weave?"

 

"WHAT!?" Kalin exclamated, shock flashing across his face. "The Weave was destroyed! How did that happen? What happened to the gods? And what in the Nine Hells is the Spellplague?!" Rhaine's words disconcerted him. Over 60 years have past?! His thoughts shifted to his deity. The pantheons changed? Was Lathandar among the affected? Kalin spoke to Rhaine: "Is that why I can't hear Lathandar? Was he in the shift as well? What happened?!" He realized that he was babbling, or nearly so, and had risen his voice, so he paused and calmed himself down. Now isn't a good time to lose track of your emotions, Kalin! Kalin started speak again in a more tranquil tone. "Rhaine, could you please tell me what has happened. I haven't been to the Sword Coast for decades, but I should have at least heard news of these events. Gaps in my memories don't just appear..." Kalin trailed off. "Something is terribly wrong..."

Edited September 30, 2011 by GrueMaster

[AurianaValoria1]

"WHAT!?" Kalin exclamated, shock flashing across his face. "The Weave was destroyed! How did that happen? What happened to the gods? And what in the Nine Hells is the Spellplague?!" Rhaine's words disconcerted him. Over 60 years have past?! His thoughts shifted to his deity. The pantheons changed? Was Lathandar among the affected? Kalin spoke to Rhaine: "Is that why I can't hear Lathandar? Was he in the shift as well? What happened?!" He realized that he was babbling, or nearly so, and had risen his voice, so he paused and calmed himself down. Now isn't a good time to lose track of your emotions, Kalin! Kalin started speak again in a more tranquil tone. "Rhaine, could you please tell me what has happened. I haven't been to the Sword Coast for decades, but I should have at least heard news of these events. Gaps in my memories don't just appear..." Kalin trailed off. "Something is terribly wrong..."

 

Rhaine sighed. She didn't know how she could break 105 years of total disaster to him easily. So he had completely forgotten. Best to start at the beginning, then...

 

"It all began when Shar, goddess of darkness, goaded Cyric, the mad god of murder, into killing the goddess of magic on her own home plane. Shar was bidding for control over both the Shadow Weave and the Weave of Magic. Unfortunately, Cyric succeeded in his dreadful task, and Mystra's death caused a catastrophe that rippled throughout the multiverse. The Weave exploded, shards of wild and deadly magic ripping through every plane of existence. Shar not only failed to gain the Weave herself, but she also lost control over the Shadow Weave. It became the Shadowfell, wrapping around the world of Toril like a black shroud.

 

"1379 became known as The Year of Blue Fire. Azure infernos of wild magic danced across the skies like eerie auroras for months on end. Thousands of wizards were killed or went insane, among them the legendary Seven Sisters - including Alustriel of Silverymoon and the Simbul of Aglarond. People were scarred with the blue fire, and were deformed in horrid and grotesque ways. The land itself bucked and twisted, tearing rifts in the earth all the way through the Underdark. Fields of raw power became known as Plaguelands, where the very air corrupted and destroyed flora, fauna, and entire cities...including Neverwinter and Luskan. These Plaguelands still exist, rippling in the distance like turquoise mirages.

 

"The planes were shifted dramatically. Toril's twin world, Abeir, momentarily merged with its sister. Chunks of both worlds were left behind on the other. Some pieces of land, called earthmotes, actually defy gravity and float in the sky, like upside down mountains. The Feywild, the home of faeries and Eladrin elves, returned, re-opening ancient portals to a mythical reflection of the Prime. The Abyss opened up on Mount Celestia, depositing powerful arch-demons on the House of the Triad itself. It is here that the god of justice, Tyr, sacrificed himself to save the heavens, eventually dying at the hands of the demons. The platinum dragon god, Bahamut, took his place.

 

"Which leads me to another point. Not even the gods themselves could avoid the effects of the Spellplague. The entire Mulhorandi pantheon was destroyed. A new god of interlopers, Zehir, rose to power. Some gods, like Mask, disappeared from existence entirely. Other gods, especially in the elvish pantheon, were revealed to be aspects of other deities. For example, Sehanine Moonbow was simply an aspect of the goddess of the moon, Selune. Still other gods lost their grip on divinity, slipping to demigod positions. Among these was Jergal.

 

"Fear not, though, Kalin. Lathander was not lost. Not entirely, at least. He was revealed to be a mask of the much older sun god, Amaunator. Turns out, the Risen Sun Heresy was actually correct. Amaunator still retains some personality traits of Lathander, though. So, his alignment has shifted from neutral to good."

 

She paused, finishing her glass before continuing, "So yes, I assume this is why he cannot hear you. Amaunator does not answer to his previous name of Lathander anymore. I have no doubt he still remembers you, if you are one of his faithful...you are simply using the wrong name."

 

Rhaine shook her head, "I cannot believe you forgot such events...they were so monumental. I have not even scratched the surface of explaining what all went wrong. Although, I shall refrain from going further - I assume I am already boring dear Ellundil to death. Perhaps we can continue this discussion at a later date, if you want to know more."

Edited October 1, 2011 by AurianaValoria1

[GrueMaster]

"WHAT!?" Kalin exclamated, shock flashing across his face. "The Weave was destroyed! How did that happen? What happened to the gods? And what in the Nine Hells is the Spellplague?!" Rhaine's words disconcerted him. Over 60 years have past?! His thoughts shifted to his deity. The pantheons changed? Was Lathandar among the affected? Kalin spoke to Rhaine: "Is that why I can't hear Lathandar? Was he in the shift as well? What happened?!" He realized that he was babbling, or nearly so, and had risen his voice, so he paused and calmed himself down. Now isn't a good time to lose track of your emotions, Kalin! Kalin started speak again in a more tranquil tone. "Rhaine, could you please tell me what has happened. I haven't been to the Sword Coast for decades, but I should have at least heard news of these events. Gaps in my memories don't just appear..." Kalin trailed off. "Something is terribly wrong..."

 

Rhaine sighed. She didn't know how she could break 105 years of total disaster to him easily. So he had completely forgotten. Best to start at the beginning, then...

 

"It all began when Shar, goddess of darkness, goaded Cyric, the mad god of murder, into killing the goddess of magic on her own home plane. Shar was bidding for control over both the Shadow Weave and the Weave of Magic. Unfortunately, Cyric succeeded in his dreadful task, and Mystra's death caused a catastrophe that rippled throughout the multiverse. The Weave exploded, shards of wild and deadly magic ripping through every plane of existence. Shar not only failed to gain the Weave herself, but she also lost control over the Shadow Weave. It became the Shadowfell, wrapping around the world of Toril like a black shroud.

 

"1379 became known as The Year of Blue Fire. Azure infernos of wild magic danced across the skies like eerie auroras for months on end. Thousands of wizards were killed or went insane, among them the legendary Seven Sisters - including Alustriel of Silverymoon and the Simbul of Aglarond. People were scarred with the blue fire, and were deformed in horrid and grotesque ways. The land itself bucked and twisted, tearing rifts in the earth all the way through the Underdark. Fields of raw power became known as Plaguelands, where the very air corrupted and destroyed flora, fauna, and entire cities...including Neverwinter and Luskan. These Plaguelands still exist, rippling in the distance like turquoise mirages.

 

"The planes were shifted dramatically. Toril's twin world, Abeir, momentarily merged with its sister. Chunks of both worlds were left behind on the other. Some pieces of land, called earthmotes, actually defy gravity and float in the sky, like upside down mountains. The Feywild, the home of faeries and Eladrin elves, returned, re-opening ancient portals to a mythical reflection of the Prime. The Abyss opened up on Mount Celestia, depositing powerful arch-demons on the House of the Triad itself. It is here that the god of justice, Tyr, sacrificed himself to save the heavens, eventually dying at the hands of the demons. The platinum dragon god, Bahamut, took his place.

 

"Which leads me to another point. Not even the gods themselves could avoid the effects of the Spellplague. The entire Mulhorandi pantheon was destroyed. A new god of interlopers, Zehir, rose to power. Some gods, like Mask, disappeared from existence entirely. Other gods, especially in the elvish pantheon, were revealed to be aspects of other deities. For example, Sehanine Moonbow was simply an aspect of the goddess of the moon, Selune. Still other gods lost their grip on divinity, slipping to demigod positions. Among these was Jergal.

 

"Fear not, though, Kalin. Lathander was not lost. Not entirely, at least. He was revealed to be a mask of the much older sun god, Amaunator. Turns out, the Risen Sun Heresy was actually correct. Amaunator still retains some personality traits of Lathander, though. So, his alignment has shifted from neutral to good."

 

She paused, finishing her glass before continuing, "So yes, I assume this is why he cannot hear you. Amaunator does not answer to his previous name of Lathander anymore. I have no doubt he still remembers you, if you are one of his faithful...you are simply using the wrong name."

 

Rhaine shook her head, "I cannot believe you forgot such events...they were so monumental. I have not even scratched the surface of explaining what all went wrong. Although, I shall refrain from going further - I assume I am already boring dear Ellundil to death. Perhaps we can continue this discussion at a later date, if you want to know more."

 

Kalin was shocked by this news. "Neverwinter is gone?" He whispered. Old memories, painful memories, came back unwanted. "It was my home once, or close to it. My family and I lived a few hours away from it." He gave a slight chuckle. "I was happy there. My brothers and I would play at being heros. I would enjoy walks in the rain with my sweetheart sometimes." Kalin's laugh turned into a sob. "She, along with the rest of my family and friends, were taken from me by demons." There were tears running down his face now. He laughed darkly. "Sorry. It's been fifty years since that night, for me, at any rate, and this is the first time I've cried." Kalin shed a few more tears, sniffed, and continued, his composure more controlled. "Thank you for sharing the history with me, Rhaine. I appreciate it. And speaking of Ellundil," Kalin turned to the rune-marked elf, "I'd like to hear your story, if you don't mind"

[tokyobiohazard]

Kalin was shocked by this news. "Neverwinter is gone?" He whispered. Old memories, painful memories, came back unwanted. "It was my home once, or close to it. My family and I lived a few hours away from it." He gave a slight chuckle. "I was happy there. My brothers and I would play at being heros. I would enjoy walks in the rain with my sweetheart sometimes." Kalin's laugh turned into a sob. "She, along with the rest of my family and friends, were taken from me by demons." There were tears running down his face now. He laughed darkly. "Sorry. It's been fifty years since that night, for me, at any rate, and this is the first time I've cried." Kalin shed a few more tears, sniffed, and continued, his composure more controlled. "Thank you for sharing the history with me, Rhaine. I appreciate it. And speaking of Ellundil," Kalin turned to the rune-marked elf, "I'd like to hear your story, if you don't mind"

 

Ellundil sat with his arms crossed, staring at the table in front of him, his expression pensive as memories painfully bit at his soul, "My dear friends, I am sorry to say that my story isn't one I could share so readily. I apologize whole-heartedly, and hope you can understand my keeping things from you."

 

His face flushed with heat and he inclined it a bit, his white hair hiding his features like a cascade of cold, swift water.

[AurianaValoria1]

Ellundil sat with his arms crossed, staring at the table in front of him, his expression pensive as memories painfully bit at his soul, "My dear friends, I am sorry to say that my story isn't one I could share so readily. I apologize whole-heartedly, and hope you can understand my keeping things from you."

 

His face flushed with heat and he inclined it a bit, his white hair hiding his features like a cascade of cold, swift water.

 

Rhaine nodded in understanding. Why should Ellundil reveal his tale so soon, and to two strangers from another world, no less? She looked at him as he hung his head bashfully, and she could detect that he had a troubled spirit that belied his cool - and perhaps a bit haughty - exterior. His story would come in time, no doubt.

 

Her thoughts trailed to Reona, whom she supposed the Altmer had taken to a room after her sudden consumption of too much alcohol. She was eager to hear the Bosmer's tale...not out of concern anymore - no, she had witnessed too much honesty and honor from the elf to suspect treachery any longer. Rhaine was certain that the little Bosmer had killed her brother for good reason, and perhaps for the good of all. She pondered going up to check on her, before resolving to let her be for now.

 

Slowly, she rose, remembering that she had left Thanatos unattended near the inn's entrance. "Well, if you will excuse me gentlemen, I have a horse to tend to before I retire for the night. Ellundil, Kalin," Rhaine nodded respectfully to each before moving towards the door. The crowd had thinned somewhat, and she was able to leave easily.

 

Rhaine found Thanatos waiting loyally right where she left him. He lifted his noble head and whuffled softly at her in greeting. She smiled, rubbing his forehead before taking his reins and leading him around to the back of the inn. There was a small stable there, with room enough for four horses. She led him inside and began systematically removing his tack: first his breastband and crupper, then his saddle, and finally his bridle. She took his currycomb from a saddlebag, brushing him down quickly before offering a carrot for his good days work. The stallion snapped up the treat greedily, and she laughed as he crunched away.

 

For a while, there was only silence. She stared off into space, gently rubbing the silken arch of his neck. So lost in thought was she, that she did not even hear the creatures of the night cease their sounds, nor did she see her faithful steed lift his head high and prick his ears in curiosity.

 

And then she heard it, her trance broken...a voice that Father Dunstan had likened to "the waters of a midnight lake" - dark, smooth, and deep.

 

"Fine greetings and blessings to you, Rhaine."

[tokyobiohazard]

Rhaine nodded in understanding. Why should Ellundil reveal his tale so soon, and to two strangers from another world, no less? She looked at him as he hung his head bashfully, and she could detect that he had a troubled spirit that belied his cool - and perhaps a bit haughty - exterior. His story would come in time, no doubt.

 

Her thoughts trailed to Reona, whom she supposed the Altmer had taken to a room after her sudden consumption of too much alcohol. She was eager to hear the Bosmer's tale...not out of concern anymore - no, she had witnessed too much honesty and honor from the elf to suspect treachery any longer. Rhaine was certain that the little Bosmer had killed her brother for good reason, and perhaps for the good of all. She pondered going up to check on her, before resolving to let her be for now.

 

Slowly, she rose, remembering that she had left Thanatos unattended near the inn's entrance. "Well, if you will excuse me gentlemen, I have a horse to tend to before I retire for the night. Ellundil, Kalin," Rhaine nodded respectfully to each before moving towards the door. The crowd had thinned somewhat, and she was able to leave easily.

 

Rhaine found Thanatos waiting loyally right where she left him. He lifted his noble head and whuffled softly at her in greeting. She smiled, rubbing his forehead before taking his reins and leading him around to the back of the inn. There was a small stable there, with room enough for four horses. She led him inside and began systematically removing his tack: first his breastband and crupper, then his saddle, and finally his bridle. She took his currycomb from a saddlebag, brushing him down quickly before offering a carrot for his good days work. The stallion snapped up the treat greedily, and she laughed as he crunched away.

 

For a while, there was only silence. She stared off into space, gently rubbing the silken arch of his neck. So lost in thought was she, that she did not even hear the creatures of the night cease their sounds, nor did she see her faithful steed lift his head high and prick his ears in curiosity.

 

And then she heard it, her trance broken...a voice that Father Dunstan had likened to "the waters of a midnight lake" - dark, smooth, and deep.

 

"Fine greetings and blessings to you, Rhaine."

Reona stood in her chemise with her arms folded on the sill of the window, watching the calm stars twinkle in the night, listening to the soft cries of animals in the distance. She felt a crisp breeze briefly tickle her face and smiled, her mind slightly buzzing with dizzy thoughts of the alcohol she'd consumed. The cold night crept in, but she didn't care how low the temperature, the sky was aflame with too many stars to count and the animals were enjoying the night just as she was.

 

Rhaine walked below her, and she nearly gave into the impulse to lean out the window and wave, but refrained since she was supposed to be passed out. She watched the woman and horse go inside the stables, and after a few moments, the sounds of animals ceased. Curiously, Reona jumped down onto the ground below and crouched in the shadows, crawling on all fours to make sure she stayed undetected. She climbed up onto the roof and peeked through a large hole where the wood had rotted away.

 

What she saw was strange, a man in a cloak with his face covered by a mask, watched Rhaine just as Reona watched the both of them. After a minute or two, the man spoke, his voice clear and hypnotic, "Fine greetings and blessings to you, Rhaine."

 

Reona pulled her shift tighter around her thin frame, trying not to feel frightened, but unable to brush off the odd paranoia at her realization that it was the male voice that came from Rhaine's throat earlier that very day.