Tales of Faerun

[Quintatas]

Xundus had never known such pain. When the dagger had plunged into his back, he had fainted, and now that he was awake, he knew suffering. Some of the people who had seen him attacked had helped him, applying bandages and such. He nodded his thanks and attempted to stand, but was again met with pain. He fell back down with a cry, then attempted to stand again. This time, he grunted through the pain, and managed to stand. He instinctively felt at his mask; it was caked in blood. He'd probably bled out in a pool after he fainted. He looked around, as if he expected the assassin to be there behind him. "I'd better tell the others," he whispered to himself. He nodded his thanks to the woman who'd bandaged him, then walked away, hoping to run into one of the others.

 

==========

 

Keveak had managed to escape the grounds without much trouble. It was easy to slip into a crowd unnoticed. Now he sat in a narrow cleft in a rock face, a few miles away from Sarshel. He had no contracts at the time, so he decided he'd dedicate his time to finding and killing the drow. Little did he know, he was going to find it harder than he thought.

 

==========

 

Solaer entered the fairgrounds with some reluctance. The elf was no fan of crowds, or people in general, for that matter. But his target was in the area. He knew it. His target, Keveak Falconsflight, had made the mistake of leaving his kills in the open, and the bard knew the style of the assassin all-too-well. Eventually, after walking a distance, he came to a spot where blood was splattered across the grass. People didn't seem to be too alarmed, though they generally kept away from the spot. He knelt down to inspect the site. He couldn't tell if it was Keveak's doing. If it is, he thought, I'll know soon enough.

[mythicdawnmaster]

Aurora shrugged, bringing the brandy up to her own lips before offering the rest to Tannin "More for us then dear, as you said, it is the good stuff." She grinned in her usual joviality with a certain twinkle in her eyes that often presented itself in times of drunken revelling. As she was at the tavern already, she could see no reason quite good enough to leave. The brothers could more than handle the protection of the young Audri, while Aurora performed her own little service to her fellow drunkards. They liked a song, and she was sure to belt out a number or two before the night was through... or at least until she collapsed.

 

-----

 

Xallistine had not slept at all the night prior to the magic tournament. His night instead encompassed sitting alone and pondering what magical intricacies he could perform in his bid to walk away from the competition with the ultimate prize. However, the tournament was not a matter of monetary gain for the Ulitharid; he could not need the funds less as it were. No, this was a matter of pride.

 

No matter the humanity that rubbed off upon him, the prejudices corroded, the strange emotions evoked, and the close companionship brought about by his travels with Rhaine, nothing could erase his nature entirely. Xallistine was, disguise discounted, an Illithid, and not only a mere mind-flayer, he was Ulitharid, the social elite, the royals, and the vastly superior aristocracy reserved for less than a percent of his species collective population. He presented himself as a master of magic, a repository of the arcane, light and dark alike. And he wasn't about to have his companions think any less. He was the primary spellcaster of their group, and he could not allow himself to lose to mere humans, not when the fate of the realms could depend on a well placed spell. No, he would prove that he was every bit as capable as he was at the start of their campaign.

-------

Ravenna showed gleaming canines as she nodded to Quarylene, elegantly dismounting her steed as they stopped in the shadow of the vast stalagmite, soft blue light cast to either side, Ravenna's corset appeared ice blue as she stood, godlike in her posture, before the great spire. Quarylene wished it destroyed did she? Then destroyed it shall be.

Outstretching her arms lazily, clawed fingers unfurling like those of the dead as they rose again, she focused her radiant gaze upon the target before her, fiery orbs burning as the sun so far above them. Tilting her regal head to the side in the slightest of motions, the Devil Queen dug her crystalline heels into the damp floor beneath her feet, sinking perhaps an inch as she called upon her infernal power, the power of the Hells. As Ravenna demanded, the devils beneath seemed to respond to their mistress. Perhaps it was the clawing fingers of a million devils, or merely the energy of such a metaphor that caused the first crack to sprawl out like mismatched carpet before Ravenna.

At first it was only the one, but like the cracks in a mirror, those in the ground could only reach out further.

The cracks splintered.

For a few silent moments there was nothing at all, not the slightest rumble of earth nor the meekest shift of stone. But all silences had to be broken, and brake the silence did. The sound that followed gave no warning, no tremble before it's arrival, no hint as to its emergence, and before the Drow within the watchtower could respond to the sight of a woman in the shadow of their tower, the ceilings collapsed upon them and the walls shattered in a glorious explosion. As though following her gaze, the crack expanded in mere seconds to form a bottomless gash that snaked towards the tower, parting the ground beneath it and shattering it's structure in an instant. The result was a cacophony of utter chaos, the screams of shock, anger, fear and the final death knells that followed danced in a macabre melody of destruction about the air, coupling with the crash of earth and the crack of stone. First the tip of the stalagmite fell, then it's centre burst into deadly fragments of human-sized shrapnel, before the base was swallowed by the very ground itself, or dragged into the hells? Whichever the case may or may not have been, it made the point of destruction quite well, and served as a apt taste of her power for Quarylene to witness.

Admiring her handiwork for a mere moment, Ravenna looked to Quarylene with smug satisfaction.

Edited November 29, 2013 by mythicdawnmaster

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine and Conall, after a few practice sessions, had joined the others in the stands to watch the magic contest. Argyros and Dagny were there as well, seated close by. As the contest began and progressed, it almost immediately seemed to favor one of the contestants - the dark-bearded man that the Doomguide and the werewolf knew as the Ulitharid, Xallistine.

 

The magicians were made to stand arms-length apart from each other. Judges stood before them and watched every move and expression. One school of magic was called out, and the competitors would then cast the best non-damaging spell they knew. For the school of Evocation, old barrels were placed in front of them to be pulverized by appropriate incantations.

 

At last, only a few competitors were left - Xallistine, an elven sage, and a frail - yet surprisingly talented - young lady who looked like she belonged in a palace, not on a tourney grounds. The only school left to test was the school of Illusion.

 

Rhaine smirked behind her visor. If only the judges knew that they had been privy to a most magnificent illusion the entire time.

 

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Quarylene cackled with glee, her fanged grin sparkling in the light of Ravenna's own magic show. It gave the vampiress a grim satisfaction to know that those followers of Lolth within had not been saved by their goddess.

 

However, her jubilation was short-lived. After a few moments, out of the dissipating dust, the lights of more faerie fire shone eerily in purple and azure flickers, and shouted commands could be heart in the distance. The drow city had been called to action by the earthquake and the subsequent collapse of the watchtower.

 

Quarylene growled, slipping from the back of her Nightmare and pressing herself to the cavern wall.

 

"Now comes the true test of our skills, Devil Queen...the foes gather! Meet them with your magics, and I shall drain the rest dry."

 

The vampiress then melted into the shadows, invisible as she drew her weapons and began flanking the first wave of heavily-armored male soldiers that advanced towards them. Behind them were more soldiers mounted atop giant reptiles, along with more than a few high-ranking Arachne, the hissing of their multi-headed snake whips audible even this far. The city was well-defended, then, and quick to respond to enemies. Quarylene wondered if they had other threats nearby...

Edited December 2, 2013 by AurianaValoria1

[GrueMaster]

Dri was grateful that the Greys escorted her back to their camp and allowed her to stay with them. She gave their leader a polite wave when Weyland stopped to explain the situation, but didn't really "speak," drained as she was, both emotionally and physically, by the trouble earlier. When they got to the Greys' tent, Dri nearly collapsed into the bedroll after stripping down to her underclothes. She had some difficulty going to sleep at first, but found some peace knowing she'd be protected throughout the night and soon went into a deep sleep.

 

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Dri woke up sleepy-eyed to the smell of food cooking, her first thoughts focused on the delicious scent permeating the air. Mmmm.... food... Though her hair was a tangled mess and still in her underclothes, the young woman left the tent without regard to her appearance and followed the smell of bacon in a very zombie-like manner. Unfortunately, this meant she shuffled straight towards Weyland and took a few pieces of bacon and immediately began to eat them. *Mmmm... that's so good!*

 

After a moment of savoring the flavor, it finally occurred to Dri that it was morning and that she was awake... and she had just taken the food clean off of one of her rescuer's plate. *Oh! I'm so sor-* she began to apologize and hand over the remaining bacon, but, as she shifted to do so, she tripped on her own feet and tumbled in front of Weyland, dropping the food in the process, as her motor skills functioned as well as her cognitive skills did in the morning. Oh... my... gods...

 

With a mortified expression on her face (and a deep blush, too, as she realized she wasn't dressed for being out and about as well), the embarrassed girl stumbled back into the tent, got dressed and, after calming herself down for a bit, finally came back out. *I am so sorry, Weyland!* she apologized, a slight blush still coloring her cheeks. *I didn't mean to steal your food. I'm always like that in the morning. I can get you some more if you like.*

 

 

Tak'we had spent the night drumming on his gyth'ka, recollecting the hunting and trapping techniques of his forefathers in preparation for the ambush tomorrow. When the morning sun rose and the smell of bacon began to fill the air, the thri'kreen got up in his disguise and walked over to Amendale. "Good morning," he said to the pointy-ear as he took two large handfuls of the remaining bacon (which seemed less than what his clutchmate usually made and left him suspecting Weyland had beaten him to it, as Arland was too slow to get up that early in the morning) and two bowls of porridge before returning to his tent.

 

As he ate his meal, Tak'we noticed the dark pointy-ear he'd met the day before limping towards the camp. Worried about his new companion, the thri'kreen was instantly on his feet and by Xundus' side, supporting him. "Is dark pointy-ear okay?" he asked, and when he saw the blood-soaked bandages, Tak'we began calling for Rhaine and Amendale for help. "Rhaine? Amendale? Xundus needss help!"

[Quintatas]

"Yes, yes, I'm okay," said the elf, raising his hand to the thri'kreen. "Just hurts a little is all."

 

"I'm afraid, however, I might not be for long. If that man was, as I fear, an assassin, he'll surely return," he winced as he put his hand down. "Thank you for your help. We should keep on guard. Who knows when he'll return?"

 

==========

 

Solaer noticed the masked man walk past, holding his hand over his blood-soaked chest. He followed him, maintaining some distance between them. As the man walked further into the crowd, Solaer stopped following him. He'd shadow the curious figure for a while, figuring he might have more information, not to mention the assassin might still be following him. Knowing Keveak, he doubted he would let a victim escape.

 

He began to meander around the fairgrounds, buying some tough bread with decent enough flavor, and a cup of wine. After all, he might as well enjoy himself in his free time! No, he thought to himself. This isn't free time. I've still got to find Keveak. And Hells, if I don't catch him soon, he'll slip from my reach again.

[Flipout6]

Weyland was just beginning to come to his senses and get over his morning grogginess when he reached down to grab another piece of bacon and saw that it had all been swiped. His mind took a moment to register this, and then he took a moment to register that Dri had just stolen them. He looked her dead in the face with an expression of absolute non-comprehension on his face before his face started to frown.

 

"You realize I left some for you, right?" He pointed to the package of wrapped-up bacon he left beside himself. "....And that you're wearing your underclothes in an entire camp full of people?" Dri, however, seemed to notice this just fine on her own and quickly rushed back into the tent and got dressed. By then Weyland had already started tearing into what should have been Dri's bacon as penance. When she apologized, he scowled a little but waved it off as he chewed on a particularly crispy piece. "Still plenty left until Tak'We gets to i-" He glanced Tak'We out of the corner of his eye approaching came and pounded for the bacon, stealing some and retreating back to his chair. He handed Dri one piece and then hogged the rest to himself. "Just please for the love of the gods don't drop any more bacon on the ground. That's a horrendous waste if it gets too dirty." With that said, he picked a piece off the ground, dusted it off, and ate it anyway.

 

As Amendale dodged a suddenly-airborne Weyland, Tak'We's voice caught his ear and he looked over to see what the problem was. It took him a moment to figure it out, but he did notice the bloody bandages around Xundus's torso and walked hurriedly up to him and examined the dressing.

 

"Well, whoever helped you sure knows what they're doing, but if you need bandages, they couldn't seal the wound. Here-" His hands flared with a golden light and Xundus's injury sealed itself. "-That might itch for a while, but try not to scratch it, you don't want to re-open it. A magic show in mere minutes, and nobody knew any healing spells? Ridiculous. What caused this injury?"

[AurianaValoria1]

Xallistine, without a doubt, won the magic competition with his brilliantly performed Mirror Image incantation. His spell - which made eight exact images of himself that perfectly duplicated his every move and gesture - completely overshadowed the cantrips of the other two contestants, and he was awarded with the promised prize of five hundred gold pieces. Children and adults alike pestered him after it was over, begging him to show them more magic tricks. Rhaine was among those many who congratulated him afterwards before returning to her tent for the day.

 

The following morning, Conall prepared himself to enter the melee tourney. Rhaine abstained from joining, but Dagny and Argyros were present...and so was the formidable Blackguard of Bane. He was a half-orc, garbed from head to toe in a full suit of shimmering, deep violet Darksteel armor. A giant of a brute, he towered over most of the contestants, even causing some of them to pull out of the tourney because of his intimidating size. Conall was lucky enough not to face him, having been taken out of the competition early on by Tak'we's swift strength. Dagny held her own well enough against Weyland for a very long while, but ultimately lost to the warrior's persistence. Argyros won against the less agile competitors, but one young man with astonishing speed and flexibility eventually outmatched him.

 

The ultimate winner was Tak'we, having gone up against the only other competitor left standing - the Blackguard. Enraged at having lost to a "filthy insect," as he called the thri-kreen, the latter began to fight Tak'we again, but was pulled away by the paladins of Lathander that surrounded the ring. It was not to be the last trouble the party would receive from the foul half-orc...

 

During the joust, on the last day of the tournament, the evil warrior was unhorsed and defeated by Rhaine, but his lance splintered and wedged into the gap between her left pauldron and her breastplate, knocking her from her own horse and leaving her wounded. She healed the injury, but the Blackguard did not know that she had, and he attempted to finish her off as she lay on the field, determined that he would have final victory. The paladins could not reach her in time, and the two entered a deadly duel, finally ending in the Blackguard's death. Even though the Lathanderites recognized the Doomguide's right to defend herself and permitted her to continue through the joust, Rhaine withdrew, thinking it best to avoid stirring the gossiping crowd any further.

 

The Champion of the Tournament of the Rising Sun, then, was Conall Whitefang, much to his own surprise. He was awarded with the famed artifact that the Lathanderites had kept locked away for the entirety of the competition. The award ceremony went thus...

 

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All the companions had gathered 'round to see what prize Conall had won. He had already been granted his bag of gold, and now the priests were unlocking the beautifully inlaid chest to reveal...

 

A rusted longsword.

 

Rhaine, who had removed her helmet now that the winner had been crowned, stepped forward with brow furrowed, "What trickery is this?"

 

One of the Morninglords smiled wryly, "No trickery, goodlady. Goodsir, if you will..."

 

Conall hesitantly gripped the hilt of the sword and lifted it from its case along with its scabbard, which lay beside it. Almost immediately, the "rust" fell away, revealing a beautiful cold iron blade, the crossguard shaped like a rising sun.

 

"A Holy Avenger," the paladin breathed, "By Selune's light..."

 

"Aaaaaaah...it feels so good to have a worthy man wield me again."

 

Conall nearly dropped the weapon when the silky female voice came from it. Rhaine sighed and shook her head, putting a hand to her temple. "Oh dear gods...it's one of those..."

 

The priest shrugged and gestured to the blade, "Meet Ariel."

 

"Yes, priest, I was getting to that. Since you're so eager to talk, you can do all the explaining. I'm sure you've rehearsed the tale well by now, and I tire of telling it."

 

He snorted, "A likely story. Since when have you not enjoyed bragging about yourself?" Turning to Conall, he added, "This is not just any Holy Avenger, as you might have noticed. Ariel is actually a blade imbued with the soul of a Solar by the same name. Long story short, she spent more time romancing the males of Lathander's court than she did attending to her duties as one of his angels. Thus, tired of her antics, Lathander decided to make her more useful by binding her to one of his sacred weapons. Ariel has been with us for countless generations, but she still retains some of her own willpower, despite her imprisonment. As you can see, she assumes a disguise when not in use by a worthy warrior of her choosing. And her idea of a worthy warrior is one who honorably excels at physical trials."

 

"But," Conall began, "I am not a follower of Lathander. How can I justly wield one of his weapons?"

 

"Does not Selune reflect the light of Lathander?"

 

"Er," the paladin glanced at the shimmering blade, "You have a point."

 

"Of course I do. It's sharp, just like my tongue."

 

Rhaine sighed again, "She should get along well with Tannin."

 

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As the group began packing and getting ready to leave, Dagny and Argyros expressed their desire to join the party. Seeing no reason why they could not come along, as they had proven themselves capable warriors, Rhaine let them aboard. Dagny had already taken to chatting with Weyland, not at all upset by the fact he beat her in the melee. Truthfully, she appeared to admire his skill in combat. Argyros, in turn, spent most of his time speaking with Nawen and Amendale, seemingly more comfortable with the elves.

 

At last, three days after the tournament was finished, the group ended up on the western side of the Earthspur Mountains, overlooking the Fire River that snaked through the valley between the cliffs and the opposing Earthfast Mountains. It was somewhere amongst the caves in this area that they hoped to find Valthanarax's second phylactery.

 

They quickly made camp as night descended, and when Rhaine fell asleep in her tent, she was met by her god once more...

 

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Rhaine found herself at the same sunset retreat that she had been dreaming of recently. The Doomguide bowed to Kelemvor, who once again stood with her at the seaside cliff; though, this time, he seemed to be waiting on her, dark cloak billowing in the persistent breeze.

 

"My lord, it is good to see you again," she began, smiling at the silver face, "The events of the fair left me a bit ill at ease...about Azuris and Roland-"

 

"You did as I expected and recognized that my judgment is the only one that matters," Kelemvor interjected, "You are more wise than many in my church, it seems. There are others who would do well to learn what you already know. And that is all that I will say on the matter."

 

Rhaine nodded, knowing from his tone of finality that it was best to drop the subject, "It shall be considered a thing of the past, then, my lord."

 

"There are more important matters upon which you should focus your attention," he continued, "And one of them is concerning your friend, Kalin, if you value his life."

 

The Doomguide's eyes widened in surprise at the mention of the elan's name, "Kalin! You know where he is...where he's been taken."

 

Kelemvor nodded, his mask flashing brilliantly in the sun's rays, "To a rogue elan's fortress, deep in the wilds of the Shaar. He has been held captive there for many tendays, and he is steadily losing the will to live. He will die within fifty days if you do not reach him; he has begged for death from all of us who will hear his pleas."

 

Rhaine's mouth dropped open, "We...how can we get there in time? The Beastlands are months away as it is, and if the seas prove treacherous..."

 

"You must find a way to give him hope. He has already left you with the means by which to contact him."

 

"The Orus family ring? But I've tried all the divining cantrips I know. They have yielded nothing. Time and again have I tried to unlock its secrets."

 

"You have not tried everything."

 

There were a few moments of eerie silence before it clicked.

 

"Telepathy," Rhaine finally spoke, thinking aloud, "I can contact him by speaking telepathically. Through the ring. How long will I be able to maintain a connection with him?"

 

"A few breaths' time, at most," Kelemvor replied, "But it will be enough to give him a sign that you are coming for him."

 

The Doomguide nodded again and, after a few more seconds of silence, bowed deeply, "Thank you for telling me this, my lord. Even if...even if we cannot reach him in time, it will not be for lack of effort."

 

As Rhaine straightened, something caught her attention. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two forms that she had not seen in her dream before. One of them was a young ash tree. The other was the beginnings of some thorned plant.

 

"What is this? These have not been here before. Or have they been here all along, and I have simply not noticed them until now?"

 

Kelemvor followed her gaze with his own, "They are as this entire dreamscape...creations of your imagination. Or your will. It is not unlike the Githzerai's method of maintaining cities with their minds...and, on a grander scale, the formative power of the gods."

 

She stepped closer to the two plants, kneeling and examining them. She did not recall consciously wanting these here. She felt the soft breeze on her shoulders and through her hair as she looked at first one specimen, then the other. After a few moments, she realized that the thorned plant was covered in tightly-closed green buds...

 

Roses...

 

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Before she could open her mouth to ask anything, her dream melted around her, and she found herself staring at the dark top of her tent.

 

Kelemvor's words still fresh in her mind, she flipped over and rummaged through her bag until she found Kalin's ring. Slipping it on her finger, she closed her eyes and imagined she could see him, trying to picture him as accurately as possible.

 

Kalin...Kalin...if you can hear me, know that we are coming for you...hold on, Kalin...hold on...

[josh900]

As the ceremony wrapped up, Hexol ran to the jousting arena, wearing plate armor that was much too big for him, clanking and panting all the way. "Waaaiiiit!! I couldn't find armor so I had to borrow some!! I'm ready noooow!" He cried out desperate to get a chance against an opponent. His heart, face, and shoulders, all sank at the sight of the empty arena. "But...." He muttered pitifully. "I wanted to try it out..." Heartbroken the Kender took off the much too large helmet and threw it on the ground angrily.

Hearing the applause from the crowd back at the award ceremony he was immediately pulled out of his disappointed mood and his face brightened up considerably. "Oh! I wonder what's going on over there?" He asked as he started to take off the armor as he made his way to the crowd.

 

Meanwhile a rather confused knight was still roaming around the fairgrounds, searching for his missing armor.

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"I thought I got along with everyone?" Tannin said, peering over Rhaine's shoulder. The Solar trapped inside a sword had caught his attention and he wanted to investigate further, Balckrazor however was screaming orders to destroy it in Tannin's mind, this of course only made Tannin even more interested.

"Careful with that blade sir Conall, I'd imagine that'll draw some unwanted attention towards you simply for having it." He warned.

[Quintatas]

Xundus, despite being healed by Amendale, was still in some pain, though the healing had much helped him. He stayed almost through the whole tournament, but left when the melee tournament started, preferring to rest. He wasn't tired enough to fall into reverie, but he certainly felt better when he left to go to the closing ceremony.

 

When it was time to leave, Xundus limped over to the tree where he'd slept the first night and grabbed his bag, which was relatively light, as it contained only food and a few talismans he'd picked up during his travels. As they began their journey, the drow made a quick prayer to the Moonmaiden and went to walk with the group.

 

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During the three days they traveled, Xundus's wound hurt less and less, until the pain (and itching) was virtually gone. He hadn't fallen behind one time, preferring to keep close to the front of the group. He talked little during the journey, mostly keeping to himself, as well as sleeping apart from the group. It wasn't that he was distrustful of them, but he didn't want to endanger them. He could feel in his gut that the assassin who'd attacked him would return, and Xundus feared he wouldn't be ready.

[Flipout6]

While most of the camp, save a few, were still sound asleep, Amendale was wandering the camp, circling it and keeping an eye on the river below, and the cliffs above. He kept himself inconspicuous, stepping lightly and relying on his natural low-light vision to watch for threats instead of a spell. It was very early in the morning when he saw Rhaine exit her tent. Having been thinking intensely for most of the night, Amendale had need of her, and when she was in a quiet spot, away from the ears of most of the others, he approached her.

 

"Rhaine, if you have a moment, I'd like to speak with you." He asked quietly from behind her."Something's been troubling me as of late. Between the trouble with Sana, Roland's group, and of course Valthanarax and Ravenna...Well, besides you, I'm the only truly capable healer here, but I'm not by any means particularly powerful, and I fear that if we do battle against something strong enough- all it takes is one well-placed blow, and you could be rendered unconscious or even killed on the spot, and even if I focus all my energy into healing, I don't believe my own abilities would be sufficient to pull everyone through. You, however, know much more than I concerning healing and protection magics. Would it be possible to impart some of that knowledge to me? It could mean, quite literally, the difference between the life and death of you, me, and potentially everyone else. I say this not in front of the others because it's not my desire to cause anxiety, but I do believe it's an issue."