Tales of Faerun

[GrueMaster]

"Rhaine isss correct. 'Better the known predator over the hidden one.' Also, dark spirits rarely risk their host," Tak'we spoke, then added in all seriousness, "Unless they have ssomething to gain from sacrificing their slave, then they'll give up everything to sseize their goalss." He shifted the pack on his shoulders and turned towards the gates.

 

"Now, nothing can be done, so leave it lie and let this journey begin. The sooner this stone village iss left behind, the ssooner thiss one will be happy." With that, the thri'kreen began to shuffle towards the gates.

[Macman253]

Lokii listened to all their arguments intently, his anger seethed at the one that said he sacrificed his family and his people. His gauntleted fist clinched tight, eldricht energy began to swell around him and his mind filled with images of his family. Of his beautiful wife and son and their brutal end he was forced to watch. He growled in anger and glared at the loud mouthed man.

 

"Calm yourself slave, killing him will only impede your objective." Spoke Barabas in his usual rough voice.

 

Lokii's anger did not fade, it grew. The demon moved inside of him. The pain forced his anger away.

 

"You will do as I command slave!" Ordered Barabas, Lokii complied and stepped away from the group. He began to walk towards the gate before he forgot his good nature and took the mans life. He followed after the Thri-Kreen, leaving behind those that would likely place a dagger in his spine then try to get to understand him.

 

"They do not know the truth of It and they must never know the truth of it..." He thought as he walked, his mind drifting to the night the demon forced him to slaughter his family and betray his people. The night he lost his sense of honor, The Lich Queen's forces seeking him not only for his crimes but for his power. Hunted by everyone across the planes and realms. Hated by the darkness and the light... He could not help but feel this situation would be no different. He stopped and turned, looking at Rhaine.

 

"Do not worry, I will not trouble your party more then I must. My presence troubles them far more..." He says to her and then turns back to towards the gate.

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine glanced back over her shoulder, hoping Xallistine and Aricia would catch up soon. She then took two of of the baskets from Ianthe and lashed them to her saddle with the straps of her saddlebags. Slipping one foot into a stirrup, she carefully swung onto her steed's back. It was an awkward setup, but it would do. The horse danced beneath her, obviously still jittery from all of the activity.

 

Choking up on the reins, she addressed the others, "All right, let's mount up. Has anyone seen Xallistine and Aricia since we left the Dreaming Dragon?"

 

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Ginafae smirked at Sana.

 

What a beast.

 

The drow then rolled up her whip and hooked it back onto her belt along with her mace, which she first cleaned of the pathetic halflings' blood. The unicorn was stabbing each corpse for good measure with its long horn, snorting and stamping as it went. Whilst the two animals were playing with the dead, Ginafae pulled the canvas off of the top of the wagon, climbing onto it and rifling through the gypsies' goods.

 

There was an abundance of gold and spices, along with copious amounts of gaudy jewelry. The drow handmaiden took an entire chest full of copper bangles, chains, and raw jewels, and dumped it at Sana's feet. Jars full of incense and salt she strewed onto the sands as if they were worthless garbage. Priceless vases were shattered without a thought.

 

At last, however, Ginafae found a small safe, hidden under one of the barrels near the front of the wagon. She opened it with a simple incantation and was pleased to find several vials of deadly poison inside. Her teeth were stark white against her ebony lips as she grinned to herself.

 

Pocketing the vials and fistfuls of gold coins, she pulled her hood farther down against the cursed sunlight.

 

Jumping down from the wagon, she strode up to Sana, "Well, l'thi, the rest is yours. That is, if you're quite finished making a mess of yourself."

 

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Maydiira tried to cast a divining cantrip, but she felt a sharp electric shock wrack through her...again. It seemed she had been penned into an anti-magic cage - the small cave in which she had been deposited was cut off from a narrow tunnel by iron bars. These bars charged with electrical energy each time she even thought about casting a spell. She rubbed her burning skin; she had been shocked at least three times before she had discerned what was causing it.

 

She rose from her kneeling position, attempting to cover herself with her silver-white wings. Whoever had thrown her in here had taken everything she owned. Now, she had her life and little else.

 

Suddenly, she heard voices coming down the tunnel - a male and a female. The drow Favored Soul pressed to the back wall and strained her ears to hear.

 

"...an idiot? We should be waiting for Ravenna's correspondence!" the female hissed.

 

"Ravenna should have replied weeks ago. We act without her." the male replied firmly.

 

"I knew it. I knew we never should have done this...when Szass Tam told us to back off after the ball in Arabel, I knew this was bigger than-"

 

"Shut up! Tam is a fool, remember? That's the whole reason why we joined with Ravenna instead of staying with his cowardly hide. If one damned Doomguide can scare him off, he's a weak-livered worm and nothing more."

 

"That 'damned Doomguide' is the Chosen of Kelemvor!"

 

"Kelemvor be damned...he'll not stop the rise of Valthanarax with one holier-than-thou half-breed. His lordship will take care of her soon enough."

 

"But...what if Szass Tam finds out about this...betrayal?"

 

"Are you planning on talking?"

 

"N-no!"

 

"Then what are you yammering about? Once Valthanarax reaches full power, we can move against Tchazzar. After that, Thay is ours...not even Szass Tam can stand against the might of the avatar of Tiamat."

 

At that moment, two robed figures came into view. Their garments were scarlet, embroidered in gold, and their heads were shaven and covered in elaborate tattoos. The male was a good two feet taller than the female.

 

"You!" the male spat, taking a bundle from his arms and tossing it through the bars at Maydiira, "Put that on. Now."

 

The drow hesitated, and the male withdrew a wand, its tip crackling with dark energy as he pointed it at her, "Move!"

 

Maydiira took the bundle from the floor and unrolled it, finding it to be a set of black robes. The symbol upon the front she recognized, and she drew in her breath sharply.

 

The Cult of the Dragon.

 

The male then opened the door in the iron bars, the female approaching and seizing Maydiira by the arms. As the female pushed her out, the male kept his wand in her back.

 

"Walk."

 

She obeyed, letting the female guide her through the tunnel. After several turns and twists through a great many corridors, the complex expanded into an impossibly large cavern. There was a deep rumble to their left and a rattling of bones as a skeletal head suddenly emerged from the shadows.

 

The head of a dracolich.

 

The undead dragon's glowing red eyes flashed as he beheld Maydiira, and he prowled forward like a great cat on the hunt. The voice that emerged from his throat echoed throughout the cavern and vibrated in her body.

 

"Ah...Maydiira Torana. I hope you have found your accommodations to your satisfaction. Tell me...what do you know of Rhaine Alcinea?"

Edited January 22, 2013 by AurianaValoria1

[mythicdawnmaster]

"We are here." Xallistine replied to Rhaine, as he and Aricia approached.

 

"Xallistine got delayed trying to convince the shopkeeper to give him a better price, in the end i had to step in." Aricia commented, rolling her eyes in amusement. "We got everything that you requested for the journey, and some extra's as well."

 

Xallistine loaded Aricia's bags onto her horse, and put his own onto Fatty, mounting the large black steed, and petting his nose "Lovely to see you again old chap." He said to the horse. They had developed quite a bond as of late. "Well, i'm ready to go if you all are... i think he more distance from the this place, this area of Faerun we have, the better we will start feeling."

[Ithildin]

Please help me onto your back, the halfling projected, and her mare carefully lowered herself to the ground. Standing up again with Echo in the saddle required greater effort than it should have, due to the increased weight of provisions and extra gear, but the mare was strong and hardy, and still had adrenaline in her system after being so badly frightened.

 

Is the evil one coming with us? White-Nose asked.

 

If you mean the demon within the man, yes, it is, and I'm sorry, the halfling replied. Perhaps the man containing the demon is not evil himself. You and I shall do as Lady Rhaine asks; I trust her judgment ... and whatever happens, I will always do what I can to protect you. She coaxed the mare forward through the gates ahead of Rhaine, Xallistine and Aricia, following in Tak'we's footsteps.

[AurianaValoria1]

Three days later, they arrived in Loudwater again. As laden with supplies as they were, they could not move as quickly as they had whilst chasing Ravenna. On top of that, the weather had not gone in their favor - it had rained all through the second day and night. At last, however, they returned to the Green Tankard inn just as the sun was setting on the third day. Some of the townsfolk recognized them from their previous visit, but most said nothing. Rhaine herself flagged down the half-elf innkeeper, and she proceeded to tell him of Maraiel's defeat... Edited January 22, 2013 by AurianaValoria1

[GrueMaster]

Tak'we muttered to himself as they entered another stone village after just having left one, or so he felt. He'd wanted to remove his disguise as soon as they'd left Everlund, but being so near to the softskin villages, he didn't dare do so. Then that accursed rain!

 

The thri'kreen had been in a sour mood since it rained all day and night the day before, used to warmer, less wet weather. "Sssoftskinss," he hissed. *Tck!* He'd came down with a chill as well, which didn't improve the situation. "Why can't they live in nice, dry landsss?"

 

The thri'kreen's dour spirits rose somewhat though as they entered the inn. "Finally, ssome place warm!" he and shuffled in his ancient softskin way after Rhaine. Eager to take off his disguise and relieve the weight off his hunched back, Tak'we turned to the winged pointy-ear, handing some of the remaining gold she had lended him to the barkeep as he did so. "Thiss old one will upstairs," he spoke sourly, softly at first but then loudly towards the room as he continued. "Where there's no rain!"

 

Not saying another word, he left the others and went to his room, slammed the door, dropped his pack, shrugged off his cloak, and collapsed in the 'bed,' glad to finally rest. "Thank the sspiritsss...," he murmured, stifling a cough.

Edited January 22, 2013 by GrueMaster

[Flipout6]

Wordlessly, Amendale healed Arva's injuries with a decently powerful healing spell. Magic being as it was, it not only closed the injuries themselves but also corrected any mistakes his body had made in trying to fix them up itself-things like overgrown muscles, or misplaced bones or skin.

 

The warlock's anger was not lost on Weyland. When the gauntlet glowed and energy started swirling around him, Weyland decided to at least be prepared for action. He moved swiftly out of the way of whatever projectile could have been flying at him at that very moment, drew his blade, and brought his shield down off of his back, adopting a defensive stance in case the Githyanki decided to throw any spells at him. He pointed the blade forward, almost like he would hold a spear.

 

"You'd better only be doing that under Barabas' influence, or our time together may turn out to be far shorter than previous estimations..."

 

Amendale, sensing the power the warlock was summoning, felt both his hands warm up when they began glowing with magic as he prepared a spell, feeling the components slide into his hands, ready to turn into arcane energy or divine energy instantly.

 

There was a tense moment, during which for whatever reason (it could be the demon's influence, it could be Lokii not wanting to kill them, neither Weyland nor Amendale knew for certain.) before Lokii's magic faded. Amendale relaxed a little, while Weyland watched the warlock carefully, not bothering to put away his weapon or shield. As Lokii walked away, Amendale placed the components back into their respective satchels and mounted his horse, which had been cooped up in the stables for far too long. He scratched its mane and hopped on.

 

Weyland had a horse too, since being a mercenary he was often asked to head out into the countryside on a whim. He hopped on, trying his best to let it know he was sorry about being away so long by scratching its mane and feeding it a carrot, but didn't know if it was working. He followed the rest of the group, as did Amendale.

 

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Weyland rode behind Lokii the entire journey, keeping an eye on him. Even during the rain, when most others would pull up their hoods and run for shelter, Weyland still watched him. He was relieved when he saw Loudwater in the distance, a good night's rest somewhere other than the road would be amazing.

 

When he reached the bar, he rented a room for the night and a warm bowl of stew. He sat down and began to eat. Amendale pulled his hood down from his head and went up to sit beside his friend.

[Macman253]

Lokii did not utter a single word the entire trip. He knew Amendale and Weyland were watching him, they did not trust him and he knew they would not understand. He knew they could not understand the curse that befell him. They could not understand what it was like to be hunted just for being what you were, to be ostracized for a crime you did not willingly commit. The demon laughed at that thought, a sick pleasure of his was to revel in his slaves pain at the loss of his family. He called himself Githyanki but he was not a follower of the Lich Queen, the night of his species near destruction was foggy to him. He believed it to be Githzerai but now, having a new purpose brought him some clarity. He began to doubt what he saw, knowing Barabas what he actually saw could be anything.

 

"You dwell too much on the past slave, you must leave such things behind." Spoke Barabas from the deep recesses of his mind, the demon twitched with excitement at the opportunity to taunt his slave. The pain nearly made Lokii wretch as it caught him off guard. He rode his rented steed away from the party and decided it would be best to travel alongside them, in view but not apart of them.

 

"Leave me be you foul demon! I do your bidding yet you taunt me!" He growled to himself, he could feel the demon move again and this time he did wretch and gag. He felt as if his insides were turning over and being kicked by giants. He could feel the demon seethe with anger at his defiance. It moved its way from his stomach and wrapped around his heart and squeezed. His body went stiff and he fell off his horse with a loud thud.

 

Lokii got up to his knees before the chains enveloped him, the pain was intense. Before him the demon revealed his true form in only a vision. His form took the shape of a muscular red skinned man with large curved black horns and pointed fangs. His eyes glowed a flaming red and his hair was black as night. "You are mine to command slave! You will do as I ask or suffer my wrath, you place to much loyalty with that Chosen Of Kelemvor... He spoke as he backhanded Lokii across the face hard enough to cause his lips to bleed. "Do you not understand, they will kill you once your use has met its end. Namely those two humans that followed us... I saw murder in his eyes and trust me..." He said in a deep sultry voice as he licked his lips with a black forked tongue. "I know murder... You have not shown and ounce of loyalty to your master and that pains me... I always believed we could be allies. You have my powers while I feed off the tortured souls of your wife and son... He taunted with a sick sense of ecstasy. Lokii glared at him defiantly, he spit blood at the demons face but it just passed through the phantom. Barabas laughed and struck him again, "You have a fire about you that I relish... full of pain and black torment.. It makes your soul even that more delicious. I crave souls slave, black souls." He smiled evilly as a thought came to him. Barabas leaned down to Lokii and touched him on the forehead, his body began to contort in extreme pain as the tip of his finger burned his skin like wildfire. "My rival, Mephistopheles has a cult in the next city. I want you to find it, infiltrate it and destroy it. Slaughter all its patrons and retrieve the black heart of its founder. Let me feast on their souls and you will have proven your loyalty... Do this slave.. or.. He spoke with an evil smile as flames roared up to reveal the spirits of his wife and son. They screamed in agony as flames burned them, their skins turning black and just when they were close to death they vanished again along with Barabas. The chains faded and he stood.

 

Lokii caught his breath and remounted his horse as he traveled ahead of the party to Loudwater, arriving as soon as he could to begin his mission and hopefully keep the demon satisfied. His vigor renewed by the demons words, not out of loyalty but out of determination to see his mission complete.

Edited January 23, 2013 by Macman253

[AurianaValoria1]

The innkeeper grinned when he heard the outcome of the group's battle with the banshee. Jumping up on the bar, the half-elf whistled sharply to get everyone's attention. It took a few breaths before the roar of chatter died down; it was a full house tonight.

 

"Oy! Listen up, everyone! Maraiel the banshee is dead at last! We've got the Doomguide and her lot to thank for the demise of the ol' witch, so give 'em your best...and to celebrate, drinks are on the house!"

 

There was an abundance of whooping and clapping, some of the patrons pounding the tables with their tankards. Rhaine grinned as she rented a room and purchased a meal of her own, sitting beside Weyland and Amendale.

 

"Well, looks like we became popular rather quickly," she remarked.