Tales of Faerun

[josh900]

Tannin tried to get to know his traveling companions as best he could during the three day trek with varying degrees of success. At best he knew their names and professions but nothing personal. His attempts at socializing certainly helped pass the time and keep his spirits up and hopefully did the same for others in the group.

 

 

Though Tannin was no stranger to the life on the road he was happy to have a roof over his head, and of course free drinks and a warm meal made anyone happy. "Yes you are." He said as he sat down at the table with the others. "You'll have to tell me that story one of these days. defeating a banshee's an impressive feat. I might be able to spruce the tale up a bit and get us more than free drinks in the future." He said smiling at Rhaine. "That is unless you're apposed to such things my lady. If such is the case i will merely memorize it and tell it as is, or simply enjoy it. "

 

He then turned to Weyland. "And Weyland would you do us all a favor and stop starring daggers into the back of Lokii's head? The last thing we need is for him to become hostile. Could get a bit too messy for anyone's liking if you know what i mean. And more importantly he might actually lower his guard and become somewhat sociable."

[GrueMaster]

Tak'we lifted his head, hearing the cheers going on downstairs. He wished that he could be down there with his friends. "But thisss one hass had enough of that cloak!" he spat out in frustration. He let his anger fade, though. Well, I can have my own celebration.

 

The thri'kreen dug through his cloak and pulled out the bottle of moondrop. He walked over to the window in his room and opened it, pale moonlight shining in across the floor. He stared out in wonder as he took in the sight of the full moon. My birth moon... Tak'we opened the bottle of wine and set it in the moonlight, then sat cross-legged in front of it. Trying to remember the ritual, he began to pray.

 

"Mother Moon, the mother of all thri'kreen, pleasse blesss thisss humble one on thisss eighth birth moon, in the full light of your beauty." Tak'we bowed in the light. "Thisss one never got to become an adult on thisss one'sss ssixth birth moon, asss it sshould be. Pleasse, take thiss one into your grace and bless thiss one, sso that thiss one may fully become thri'kreen."

 

The thri'kreen picked up the bottle of moondrop and poured some into his hand, careful not to spill any, and drew the shape of his birth moon, a full moon, onto the moon-lit floor. "Praisse Mother Moon." Then he was unsure what to do next. He knew he had to drink the wine, but... how much am I supposed to drink? Shrugging, Tak'we took a small drink from the bottle slowly, having never drank alcohol before. It was surprisingly yet pleasantly sweet. Oh, that tastes good..., he thought, and began to drink more deeply from the bottle...

Edited January 23, 2013 by GrueMaster

[Macman253]

Lokii sat at his own table in the dark corner of the tavern, his sigil-covered gauntleted hand wrapped around the iron flagon of tea. He despised alcohol, dulled his senses and made him vulnerable to the demons influence. Barabas seemed to slumber inside of him, gone into some kind of hibernation. His keen ears browsing the various conversations for the source of his mission. Two men huddled in the corner, one fairly old and the other young enough to be his son were discussing something secret.

 

"I know the Family is growing in strength but I think Denethor is pushing too hard, there was this paladin watching the Temple all night. We had to use the tunnel in the mausoleum to enter for nightly offerings." Spoke the older man, the young man nodded. A feral look in his face. "I will speak to him Valknr, but know that Mephistopheles will be sending an emissary soon. He has spoken to Denethor and the master." Replied the younger man as he stood, tossed Valknr a few gold coins. "Go give offerings to the master at the Temple." He added before leaving the Tavern.

 

Valknr downed his drink and left just after him, Lokii dropped a few silvers on the table and followed his heart raced and a fell grin appeared on his face, he was on the hunt.

[Ithildin]

By the time the company returned to Loudwater, Echo was exhausted, having slept only fitfully each night since Mahira's death. She considered bedding down in the stable with her mare; however, the attendant assured her no other horses or ponies had been stolen under his watch since the day she and Mahira first arrived in town. He confided that he knew of locals and travelers alike whose livestock had gone missing from other locations around town, and that Dorian Colfen and at least two guards from Loudwater Prison were responsible. It was generally believed that Colfen's father, the town woodcutter, knew nothing about his son's criminal activities, and that many of the local authorities were either directly involved or bribed to look the other way.

 

The attendant then related that the stolen animals were taken upriver and sold for half their value to a self-styled bandit king in Llorkh, thence traded off to appease a horde of orcs from the Graypeak Mountains. The horde had killed travelers and taken their animals for food, and began making raids against Llorkh as well, until a deal was struck with their leader to keep them at bay. There was no doubt in Echo's mind or the stable hand's that every single animal taken from Loudwater, including her ponies, had been slaughtered. As of yet, there was no evidence against Colfen and the guardsmen that would satisfy High Lord Kalahar Twohands, Loudwater's highest authority, and no one could be certain the High Lord himself was incorrupt.

 

Echo was overwhelmed. She had lost her pony and Mahira's, tried to deal with Colfen and ended up cooling her heels in Loudwater Prison, faced the banshee, Tak'we's captors, and Ravenna ... then came Mahira's death ... and now she knew what had become of her ponies. She reluctantly left White-Nose in the attendant's care and hauled her saddlebags over to the Green Tankard. She paid for a room, asked for food to be sent up, and went upstairs. An unfamiliar waitress soon brought bread, honey, cheese, fruit, and wine to her door, and departed with a nice gratuity. Echo locked the door, sat down and ate until every last crumb was gone, then removed her armor and boots and fell upon the bed atop the blankets. She replayed in her mind every detail of every foul thing that had happened since the last time she had arrived in this godsforsaken town, and cried herself to sleep.

 

* * *

The halfling child wandered through the open-air market in the port city of Tashluta. Her skin was smeared with dried blood and grime; she was bruised and battered, dressed in filthy rags. The only item she possessed, an old leather amulet filled with pebbles, hung around her neck. The token was worthless to anyone besides herself, and even she could not remember why it was important. She was very frightened, but starvation overruled her fear: she waited until a shopkeeper's back was turned, grabbed a loaf of bread from one of his tables, and retreated into the shade between two sandstone buildings. She leaned against a wall, breathing heavily, and watched to see whether anyone was pursuing her.

 

"Echo, ahbab, please listen carefully ... I don't have much time."

 

The halfling frowned in her sleep. This was not how their conversation was supposed to begin; her memory was very different.

 

A woman was peering around the corner, and her eyes met the halfling's. The woman's face was not unkind; she didn't have the look of someone chasing a thief. Her eyes were a lovely shade of reddish brown, and seemed half-filled with tears, but perhaps that was due only to the blinding midday sun. The child instinctively tried to hide the loaf of bread behind her back. "There's no need for that, little one," the woman said. "Eat, and I will stand guard."

 

"I am sorry I called you 'little one' at first. I had limited experience with halflings, and none at all with the ghostwise."

 

Echo felt disoriented. Where was she, exactly? She felt as if she were two people at once, an adult sleeping in the Green Tankard, and a child hiding in an alley in Tashluta. "Mahira, what is happening? Are you real, or a dream?"

 

"You are asleep, but I am real; I've been allowed to stay with you while you dream tonight. Please relax your mind as much as you can, ahbab, lest you should wake too soon."

 

"I miss you," the halfling said, and realized she was crying again. It felt as though Mahira's hand actually touched Echo's cheek. "If you are real ... where are you?"

 

"I am in Lord Kelemvor's realm," the Calishite replied, "and it is he who permits me to speak with you. It is my reward for aiding Rhaine Alcinea, his Chosen. Listen well, for this is very important: after tonight, I may only be with you during Shieldmeet and the Feast of the Moon, when you dream upon those nights. The stone you found among the banshee's hoarded treasures has granted you your heart's desire. It is part of the reason I am here now. That stone will never work for you again; it is worthless to you, though it may be of use to someone else. Be very careful how you dispose of it."

 

Echo opened her mouth to speak, but Mahira interrupted. "Please let me finish ... I'm not sure how much time we have left. If you do not remain with Rhaine, we won't be able to meet again unless you communicate with me through another Doomguide. Stay with her, and follow her as I would have done, had I lived. Perhaps in time, with her guidance, you will come to know the gods and serve them as best you can. I want you to learn all you can about your past; through such knowledge, you may end your nightmares. Seek Xallistine's assistance in this. You mustn't depend upon me and any future conversations we might have, for if you do, I won't be able to see you again. Live your life well in my absence; cast off thievery. Decisions we make in life directly affect what becomes of us in the afterlife. Had I known what was in store, I would've done things very differently, from the first moment I met you."

 

Echo felt the Calishite's hand upon her cheek once more, but the image of Tashluta was fading. "I love you, Mahira. Please don't go."

 

"I love you, too, ahbab ... sleep well, be at peace, and remember all that I've told you."

 

Darkness fell within the halfling's mind, and she spent the rest of the night in a deep and dreamless slumber.

[tokyobiohazard]

Arva smiled as everyone cheered for them. He felt a little bit undeserving of such praise, but he still felt rather heroic, especially now that he could walk straight again, for some reason. He nudged Alphonse in the ribs with his elbow and chuckled, "I may just regain my limp tonight, hm?"

 

Reona narrowed her eyes at Arva as she ordered a room with Ianthe, looking back at him to say, "Pervert."

 

Bursting out in laughter, Arva leaned over and clapped a hand over the short elf's shoulder. "I meant I was going to drink tonight. What on earth did you think I was talking about?!"

 

She blushed and shrugged his hand away. "It was a statement that could have been taken many ways." Letting her hair fall over her eyes, she brushed her face with the back of a hand as the raven fringe tickled the end of her nose. "I'm going over here," she muttered, before sitting down across from the others.

 

Alphonse's lips twitched and he couldn't help grinning. "Look at how red she is! Since when does she get all flustered like that?"

 

"She only says stuff like that to cover up how she hates that she isn't getting all my attention." Arva replied, before sliding an arm around Ianthe's waist and pulling her close, her back against his chest. "I mean, how do you feel when I do this?"

 

The half-elf's cheeks reddened, and he grumbled something about unfairness.

 

Ianthe wriggled in Arva's grip before breaking free, ducking under his arms. She stuck her tongue out at both of them, before standing on her tiptoes and kissing Alphonse on the cheek. "The same way as you feel when I do that!"

 

"Damn," Arva said, his own face now flushing red, "She got me."

 

Alphonse swayed, feeling a little dazed by Ianthe's kiss, and followed her over to a table in the middle of the room. It seemed those were always empty, he mused, his thought immediately being contradicted as he realized the nymph was sitting with an older couple who began to tell her she looked like a much more lanky version of their granddaughter.

 

Arva, now standing alone, decided to sit next to Reona and get in on the conversation at the table where most of the group was seated. As he slid into his seat, he heard Tannin tell Weyland to stop staring at Lokii. "You know, I actually agree. He seems like an okay guy beneath that other part of him." He made sure to not say the affliction which Lokii suffered aloud, as it may attract attention.

 

He then noticed Lokii get up and slip out behind a few shady-looking characters. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, I guess, he thought, turning to see a full tankard of ale being placed in front of him by a waitress. She explained someone had ordered this for him and pointed at a human woman who resembled on orc across the room.

 

Gods help me.

[Flipout6]

Weyland, between mouthfuls of stew, looked at Rhaine with a grin on his face.

 

"Looks like we did. Slaying a banshee is no easy feat, way to go." He said.

 

Amendale looked at her as well. "By we, you mean you. It was not my actions these people are celebrating. It feels wrong to take advantage of them because of something they mistakenly think I was part of."

 

Weyland looked at him funny, then simply commented "I'm a mercenary. Granted, a mercenary with a conscience, but still a mercenary. I won't argue with or turn down free drinks. That's one of the differences between the two of us, you know that?"

 

"To each their own. Though I will insist I pay for mine." Amendale responded.

 

The sound of another's voice snapped Weyland's attention towards Arva. "I'm not so sure. I've said my piece about what he's done in the past already, and he tried to kill me for it. Anyway, this isn't a time for thoughts like that, let's all get drunk!" He grinned crookedly and ordered himself a pint, slipping the bartender a tip to ease Amendale's conscience a little bit.

 

Amendale ordered an assortment of grains and fruit with some water and paid for it in full despite the bartender's protests, and quietly began to eat. If Weyland was getting drunk that meant that he wouldn't be as prepared for danger as usual. Even if every other group member was slurring by the end of the night, at least Amendale would be sober to drag them up to their rooms. He smiled a bit at the thought.

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine glanced to Tannin, "Aye, one of these nights, perhaps at a fireside, we'll share the story with you. It is as you say, though...I do oppose exaggeration. I recognize that it is something almost every bard does, but I am one for truth, not glory."

 

For a few minutes, she simply ate in silence. But the Doomguide's eyes narrowed as she saw Lokii leave...he had been acting strangely throughout the journey to Loudwater, and she had chalked it up to him fighting off the demon's influence. She was about to say something when the waitress suddenly blocked her view, handing Arva a ridiculously large tankard of ale and pointing to the half-orc who had bought it for him. The look on the elf's face was priceless.

 

At that moment, she realized that Echo and Tak'we were not part of their company. Rhaine stood and excused herself momentarily, concerned that either one or both of them were not feeling well. Heading upstairs, she heard a few funny noises coming from behind one of the room doors - slurred speech and odd warbles.

 

Raising her gloved hand, she tentatively knocked, "Tak'we...are you all right?"

 

--------------------------------------------------------------

 

Maydiira's back burned as if it were on fire. She writhed in pain on the floor of the cave, the male Red Wizard standing over her with his wand emanating black magic. The female took her by the shoulders and jerked her back to her feet, shoving her to face Valthanarax again. The dracolich's mouth hung open in a savage grin, "This can go on for as long as your pathetic body can take it...or you can end it all now by telling me what I wish to know."

 

"Never!" the drow spat, her silvery eyes flashing.

 

The undead dragon chuckled, his voice vibrating the floor of the chamber, "Ah, dear Maydiira...pretending to be so brave. Would that you were as brave as your kin."

 

From the shadows behind the dragon came a stirring. Slowly, a few figures emerged into the dim lighting, ambling forth.

 

She gasped, "What did you-?"

 

Her words stopped in her throat as the figures became recognizable as the drow of Sel Sreen'aur...her fellow Eilistraeeians.

 

They were zombies.

[GrueMaster]

Tak'we mumbled and giggled to himself, the bottle of elven moondrop almost gone. "Mmmh... ssso ssweet." *Hic-Tck!* He heard someone at the door and stumbled over to it and tried to get it to open. "Wha'ss wrong with the door?" He gave a hard push on the door, straining for a moment to force it open, then realized it opens inwards.

 

"Oh..," the drunken thri'kreen mumbled, then pulled the door open, but as he did so, he knocked himself over in the process. "Ssstupid ssoftskinsss..." he cursed, "can't even make a proper door..." He looked up and saw Rhaine standing outside the room with a concerned look on her face. "Winged Pointy!" Tak'we shouted cheerfully as he picked himself up from the floor, staggering as he stood. "Pleassse, come in, come in!" *T-HIC!* he insisted, picking up the nearly empty bottle where it had rolled away from his grasp. "Thisss one isss celebrating!" *HIC!*

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine closed the door behind her, "I can see that...celebrating a little too much, I think."

 

She plucked the wine bottle out of one of his hands, "Moondrop? Tak'we, is this what you bought back in Everlund?"

Edited January 24, 2013 by AurianaValoria1

[GrueMaster]

*HIC!* "Oh, yesss." The thri'kreen slurred, taking the bottle back and taking a small sip. "You sssee, it'ss thisss one'sss birth moon." He waved his arms toward the open window, gesturing to the full moon. "Thisss one isss now eight birth moons old. That'sss, uhhh," Tak'we tried to count on his twelve fingers, " ninety-sssix moonsss, thisss one thinkss."

 

He continued to ramble on, leaning on the bed post. "You ssee, when every thri'kreen reachesss their ssixth moon, it isss tradition to offer praisse to Mother Moon, a rite of passsage for a nymph to become an adult." He shook the wine bottle in his hand. "Sssacred, moon-touched wine isss part of the ritual." *Tck-HIC!* "Thiss one couldn't find any, but that ssoftskin ssaid pointy-ears made moondrop with moonlight, sso thisss one bought it."

 

He looked at the wine with an unfocused stare. "It wass very ssweet. Moondrop! Moondrop! he screeched drunkenly. Looking back at Rhaine, he continued his rant. "Thisss isss the firsst birth moon thisss one hass had ssince esscaping to freedom and didn't want to misss it. Thisss one didn't get to fulfill the rite when the sssixth moon passsed." He grumbled. "Thiss one wasss fighting in the dark softskinss' arena."

 

Tak'we gave a curse in Thri'kreen as he slipped off of his support, and sat down on the bed. "'The Sssand Lion', they called thisss one." He gave a poorly-mimicked roar, his voice hoarse as he chuckled after his impersonation. "They had thisss one kill unfortunate sslavess, like thisss one wasss one of their man-eatersss. Sssilly ssoftskinss, thisss one doessn't even look like a large cat." *Merow! Merow!* he catercalled, laughing at first, but his mirth quickly turned to a shuddered sob.

 

"They took everything from Tak'we," he cried as he held his head in his hands, unwittingly calling himself by his name. "Family... friendsss... even my name.... 'Nothing but an animal,' they'd ssay. An animal! Especially the sslaver Azhad!" The thri'kreen lifted his head towards Rhaine. "Winged pointy-ear and her friendss were the the only onesss who treated me asss someone, the firssst to show Tak'we kindness, the first to even use my name."

 

Tak'we gave another choked sob, swaying lightly against the bed support. "Thisss one lovess hiss new clutchmatesss..." he murmured barely even conscious. "Thank you, Rhaine..." The wine bottle slipped out of the the thri'kreen's grasp with a dull *thud*... The thri'kreen had passed out...