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Tales of Faerun


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Jaxion's hints were not lost on Rhaine, and her eyes narrowed at the man, "I now know what you are, even if the rest of my company do not. For your sake, I'll keep my silence and let you walk away from us in peace, but that is as much mercy as you'll get from me. We aren't far from the edge of the desert - but I think you already know that."

 

The Doomguide could sense that he was definitely more wily than he appeared to be. He wasn't simply insane...he was a manipulative insane. He was dangerous, and Tannin seemed to think so as well. Perhaps Jaxion even deserved to be murdered on some level, but she wouldn't let the half-drow succumb to his blood by doing it...at least, any more than he already might have.

 

"Now," she said, noticing that the mass grave - and the smaller one dug by Ianthe, Reona, and Arva - was ready to be consecrated, "I have a job to do."

 

Telling the others to stand clear of the graves, she began sprinkling the bodies with wyrmsage and chanting a protective incantation over them. Her amulet and ring began to glow as she did so, a web of soft light stretching over the corpses like a protective net. She then recited the Passing and offered several prayers before finally allowing her companions to fill in the graves with dirt and sand. It was as much as she could do for the dead, and she hoped that it was enough.

 

At last, she took one of the Zhent's horses - a large bay stallion with black stockings, mane, and tail. The beast snorted in agitation as she mounted up.

 

"All right...let's go. We need to get as far as we can before dawn."

 

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"This city was once ruled by the drow, long ago," Maydiira explained as she navigated through the tunnels with ease, "The tower that serves as the governing seat was built by my kin. Raids still take place here, which is why the surfacers in this area hate my kind so deeply. I do not think the smith even knew about this escape route, which was likely established long before he was ever born."

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Jaxion let out an audible groan. "How boring." He said standing it. "Alright then.. i'll go i'll go." He said backing up away from the group.

 

As Tannin got on a horse he kept his eyes on the madman, watching for any signs of hostility that Tannin could use as an excuse to put him down like the rabid dog he was.

When Rhaine cave the command to ride away Tannin planned on staying as far back from the group as he could now that his secret was out, Even in these days the few descendants of Bhaal that were left were met with drawn swords.

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"I see." Said Kento, still following behind Maydiira. "You Drow are rather crafty warriors. I'm surprised that they have yet to retake this place. Though i suppose the politics of your people do not allow much to be done with all the open fighting going on. A shame really, yours could be a mighty empire, if they knew the value of allies." He said thinking back to his own homeland and the fighting between the clans that resulted in many deaths. Were it not for the order of the Shogun the clans would be no better than the Drow houses, constantly at each others throats and engaged in bloody warfare, and far less subtle about it.

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Dagger Falls.

 

Rhaine had never been so happy to see civilization. Even though their journey across the Anauroch was shorter than most, it was still longer than desired. At last, however, their travel through nigh unbearable heat and sand was over. They had made such good time after leaving the Zhent camp that they went farther than expected, and so they arrived at the edge of the Border Forest at sunrise the morning after. Around midday, they reached the town itself. It was well-fortified, with a decently-sized population, and the Doomguide was certain that warm food, beds, and a bath awaited them at the local inn.

 

They had traversed the Anauroch and lived to tell the tale. No small feat, that.

 

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"Unfortunately, my evil brethren do not see their petty wars as a weakness," Maydiira replied, "And so surfacers are able to take advantage of this divisiveness to keep them at bay. As long as this is so, it is unlikely that the drow will ever dominate the surface again."

 

They reached the mouth of a cavern, light guiding them into the forest outside of Shadowdale. Looking around, she recognized this as the same route she had taken to escape the Dragon Cultists. She frowned, "So this is all connected...interesting..."

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Much had happened in the last few days, and Myn wasn't certain if he was comfortable with all of what had transpired. The one sole bright spot in all of this, was his shocking discovery of his stolen belongings in amongst the dragons loot in the treasure room. Having then asked for and received permission from Charmelion to take them, the how and why of how they seemed to have gotten there didn't matter to Myn, nor did the ominous and likely grisly manor in fate the bandits seemed to have suffered. For Myn, the sense of relief and joy of being reunited with his belongings, most notably his longsword Ter'oc, was palpable. Not even the slaughter of the slavers and zhents could dampen his spirits for the remainder of the journey to Dagger Falls.

 

A slaughter of which Myn had not partaken in, like the Ulitharid, Xallistine, Myn had stayed out of the fight. Not that he had objected to killing them, or wasn't capable of doing such deeds himself for that matter. Rather, Myn knew he was not yet sufficiently recovered enough to participate in such actions. To compensate for this, Myn had made himself useful once the fighting was done by searching for and gathering up what supply's were either salvageable or left unharmed for the remainder of their journey. There hadn't been much, but he did manage to find just enough to barely cover the group to the edge of the Anauroch.

 

Having taken a spotted grey out of the collection of horses the group had taken from the slavers and zhents for his own, the gelding was of surprising even temperament for one of bedine breeding and seemed to be well trained, as Myn needed very little effort to keep the steed under control. The ride east had been a rather pleasant one and Myn had kept to himself during the journey, joining the others only when they stopped to rest. Now that their destination was in sight Myn flashed a warm smile and started to laugh, then spoke. "Finally! I don't know about the rest of you, but the first thing I'm going to do once we're settled, is too take a bath! I don't doubt that I'm in need of one a fair bit more than the rest of you."

Edited by DracoRazgriz
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Through the rest of the journey Tannin had stayed behind as he intended. For once he was quiet and didn't speak to anyone. He would occasionally look back to see a dot in the distance, Jaxion no doubt. Tannin had half a mind to head back and finish him off. Would save him and possibly the rest of the group trouble in the future.

 

 

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"Might be for the best then. Besides, your kind can't stand the surface. Launching an invasion would be like marching north in nothing but your undergarments. Stupid." Kento said, his eyes just now beginning to adjust to the darkness. Noting her tone he spoke up. "So how far of a stretch would it be for me to say that you've gone around in one big circle now?"

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"Not the only mean, Valthanarax." Came a voice tinged with infernal power, it's owners great shadow cast across the chamber as the portal behind her flickered and closed. Slow, heavy, and elegant footsteps echoed purposefully down the corridors that lead to Valthanarax's chamber, following the voice. The footsteps clicked and clacked, never scraping, a sign that whomever they belonged to was accustomed to walking in heeled footwear A distinct jingle of jewellery and hair ornamentation complemented the regal aspects of her walk.

 

When the figure finally showed herself, her gaunt visage lit up with an intimidatingly stern grin, her piercing golden eyes burning as they stared at the the Undead being before them.

Ravenna stood with a hand upon her hip, the long red dress she wore skin tight, and covered in a multitude of solid-gold embroideries, that circled and entwined as they ran up her body. The dress itself was open to just above her navel, cupping her breasts and protecting her modesty, a large, gold laced collar fanned out around her neck, stitched with rubies and fixed in place with golden rods. The Three-spired tiara on her head glowed dimly with infernal magics, sitting on Ravenna's pulled back hairline, her silken gold in a high tail.

 

"The Doomguide approaches, Dracolich, and it is you, and your cult she seeks."

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Rhaine laughed at Myn's comment, "Aye...a bath will indeed be more than welcome."

 

She kicked her stallion into a trot. The Doomguide had come to call him Red Thunder, as his bay coat possessed an almost scarlet sheen in the sun and his hoofbeats were quite heavy for such a slim horse. She had long ripped the Zhent symbol from off of his breastband, and she hoped that none of the other animals bore obvious symbols of their origin.

 

Leaving the horse in the care of a stable-hand, Rhaine was able to enter the city after explaining herself and her companions to the gate guards. They alerted her to the fact that a murderer was on the loose, and that a recent patrol had disappeared after chasing him into the forest. The Doomguide assured them that they could take care of themselves, and proceeded to find the inn.

 

The first one she came across was a rather empty place called the "Teshford Arms." Though the exterior and interior both looked nice, there was hardly a patron to be found.

 

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Maydiira snorted, "Not far of a stretch at all. This is the way I came to escape a mad cult of Red Wizards...best to leave this place behind."

 

She began walking northwards, not knowing exactly where she was headed, but determined to leave Shadowdale far behind her.

 

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Ginafae folded the schedule, having memorized its contents, and placed it in her pack. Far in the distance, she could see a caravan entering Dagger Falls. There were a great many odd adventurers accompanying it. Standing, she pressed herself to a tree and watched them.

 

Interesting.

 

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Valthanarax tossed aside the now-scorched corpses of the Red Wizards and locked his gaze with the stranger's. She smelled of the Hells and reeked of evil.

 

"And who are you to dare to invade my lair, Hellish one?"

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Weyland looked at Tannin at Jaxion's accusation, wondering what was going on here that he didn't know about. Amendale did the same, gears in his head having been set in motion. Weyland dismissed it as the ramblings of a deluded lunatic, but a lingering of doubt nibbled at the edge of his mind that was only reinforced by Tannin's sudden desire to stay away from everyone.

 

When they pulled into Dagger Falls days later, Weyland wearily stumbled in the direction of the inn to rent a room for later in the night while Amendale walked on ahead, deeper into the city. Weyland assumed he was just going off for supplies and bought a hot steak and some ale.

 

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Arland sheathed his bloodied blades, sighing sadly, and walked away from the lifeless body at his feet. He'd been avoiding the dead moon elf for hours now, but hadn't been successful. He'd walked straight into a dead-end alley with the elf hot on his tail and was forced to kill him in self-defence once they started slinging spells and swinging a sword.

 

Arland was wearing typical, unassuming clothing now, and while he retained both of his swords, he still looked like just another adventurer passing through the city, which was good since such things were common. He'd even seen a massive caravan of travelers come through the gates earlier, though he didn't stop to take a look and instead opted for heading back towards the slums, where another criminal seeking refuge was just the usual routine.

 

He sighed. He'd tried to incapacitate his pursuer, but they were too powerful for him to waste time trying to go for a wound shot and if he hadn't impaled them on the spot he'd have been disintegrated. He didn't like killing people that were just trying to make a living. Paying attention to the present, he avoided anyone that looked like a town guard as he made his way to the slums, hiding in an abandoned hovel that he'd been scouting the past few days but not actually hiding in, lest he be caught. He discreetly made his way into it from a side door, the dust of the dark shack tickling his nostrils, and he lit a single candle to light the way, navigating his way through the poorly-constructed corridors and hallways that the house had carved into its interior. Once he deemed it safe (after thoroughly sweeping the entire house three times.) He set down his backpack and rolled out his sleeping bag, intending to get some sleep. Hopefully he wouldn't wake up to find the guard busting down the door. He kept his blades under the bag, available to draw quickly but not immediately visible.

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First thing Tannin did when they entered the Inn was take a seat at the bar and ask for something to drink, he didn't care what it was at that point, he was sick to death of water. The second thing on his to do list was to bathe and get out of his sand filled robes, maybe get into something comfortable if he was lucky. Wearing the same articular of clothing for the past week or so did not sit well with him.

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Kento stopped walking and looked back. "This is not my path." He said half to himself. The drow was wasting his time, he had no reason to follow her. He honestly didn't care if she lived or died, but there was something there, a tiny flicker of light in Kento's mind that told him to stay with her, just a little further. That maybe, just maybe she would lead him to Tannin, lead him to his revenge.

He started to walk again. "Do you at least know where you're going?" He asked her, if he was going to follow her she had best not be lost.

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Rhaine purchased a room and a bit of food before requesting water for a bath. A tub was brought up to her room and filled with warm water, whereupon she locked the door behind her and began quickly undressing. Her robes were so full of sand that she discarded them, but her arming doublet and breeches would have to be pounded to get out the grit. Sighing, she tossed her pack on the bed with her sword and slipped into the tub.

 

She felt as though she could not scrub herself enough. Sweat and sand had caked to her skin and had matted her hair, despite Sori's talented braiding. The Doomguide dunked her scarlet waves beneath the water numerous times to free it of the grime; her wings had suffered similarly, and so required likewise treatment.

 

At last, she emerged from the bathwater and dried off, feeling better than she had in at least a tenday. Donning her temple robes and giving thanks for their softer materials, she departed her room temporarily for the commons of the inn. Rhaine spied Bilron and his family in one corner, talking quietly to themselves. Weyland was eating, Tannin was drinking...but other than her companions, there were still no other patrons.

 

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"No," Maydiira replied with a sigh, "I don't. Not exactly. But I do know that if Shadowdale is to the south of us, then the Anauroch is to the northwest. I believe there is another village at its edge that does not hate my kin quite so much."

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