Your life is supposed to flash before you in moments like this it did not flash before Asher's. It didn't take all of Asher's experience to see the end coming. The expedition into the demons lair had started well. The minions of Kringus fell under an unstoppable wave of arrows, magic and steel.
He was a minor player in the success of the party as usual but his arrow were swift, accurate and he even managed to damage the ice demon by aiming for the weak spots. The fiend's eyes searched for the source of the sting and locked on Asher as he sighted down the head of the next enchanted missile as he brought the string to his cheek. The horror took flight in open defiance of it's great bulk. It landed scant feet behind Asher whose battle remained instincts sent him into a forward roll to escape the claws of the beast. Asher then felt the crushing weight of the demon's magic forcing his own body to betray his will.
Asher found himself paralyzed unable to move isolated from the party. He glanced at the veritable army of foes and knew it was only a matter of time.
The impressive chill of the vast ice cavern seemed pleasant when compared to the frigid wave radiating from the form of the massive yeti that approached. He fought against the demon magic to move his leaden limbs as the yetis claws pounded him to them cavern floor again and again. This, he knew, would be the last. He knew he would soon accomplished what he came to Waterdeep to accomplish, to join his beloved wife, Varra, in the afterlife. His last words were to her.
Blackness decends with the yeti's arm. His tenuous connection to his body allows him to feel Adam carrying his lifeless form to the party. The soft hand of the sweet Miss Gardner touching his face whispering "Oh Asher . . ." Those words and the touch of the gentle girl who always seemed uncomfortable around him would send him to his beloved in the halls of the Helping Hand Shaundakul.
As he felt his disembodied consciousness coalesce in the his deity's home. He was there --- Alone. Was it his failure to avange Varra? His distraction with the guilds missions? He felt the call back to the physical plane. He made his decision, he must go back he had to write some wrong. He couldn't bear eternity---- Alone.
Then he was back in his body lying on a slab in the temple of the Helping Hand in the Plinth.-- Alone. He gathers his gear and walks back to the guild house--Alone
Alone
Re: Alone
The club of the ogre warrior descended yet again. Then ... only blackness.
Asher found himself in the mountains, the clear crisp afternoon air greeted him as he looked out on the sun drenched vast horizon, the whistling of the winds tantalizing his ears. As if the wind coalesced his muddled thoughts, he suddenly knew where he was. The Gates of the Moon, the domain of his patron, the Rider of the Winds, Shaundakul.
He looked around, yearning to see her, hoping that his actions have made him more worthy than the last time he found himself here - Alone.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted what he hope was not a wishful apparition. His heart quickened in his chest as he caught sight of the gaudy colored silken dress that epitomized the Gar style topped with a blur of silken ebony hair. As he turned, he drank in the full vision with a greedy thirst. The petite frame, the black hair, the dark eyes that he could almost drown in; it was his Varra. She has been waiting for him and now they would finally be together for all eternity in this paradise realm of the Helping Hand.
The tears of unabashed joy flowing down his cheeks turned cold as he noticed her expression as he approached her. Her face that he knew so well was darkened with the storm clouds of anger. Storm clouds he knew, in the past, almost washed him away in the furious deluge of her wrath. She looked at him, opened her mouth and accused "You have ruined everything . . .our afterlife . . . our love . .everything!"
Asher recoiled as if struck "But . . now we can finally be together." he replied.
Varra almost sneered "No, no we can not. You have lost focus, in order for me to be allowed my final enternal rest . . . I must be avenged. You have lost focus . . .I depended on you and you are weak."
Asher stood dumbfounded by the rebuke.
Varra continued "You were distracted by love and that weakened you. What I have learned in my time in the afterlife is that love is weak . . . hate is strong. You must use the strength of you hate to earn our eternity of bliss."
He shook his head vehemently trying to dispel the confusion he was feeling from the force of her attack "That can't be, our love was stronger than any hate. It was the basis of out life together."
A sort of derision came on the heels of Asher's comment. Immediately followed by her retort "Think about it. Since we've been parted, you have seen love in action. . . I have seen you smile, undoubtedly thinking of our time together, when Miss Gardner and Adam gently, chastely touch hands. Yet, they regularly endanger one another because of those feelings."
The diatribe continued " A what of Wren, has her love made her stronger? She pines for one she can never have and it has almost destroyed her." she barely paused before launching another verbal arrow "and what of the Siren and the Shadow? Their "love" caused your death and that of two more of their companions. . . for no reason at all."
Varra paused and took a deep breath. Her tempestuous demeanor softening once again. His face flushed with a different emotion as she turned her irresistibly seductive gaze to him locking eyes with him. "You can still fix this, love. Focus your will, focus your hatred. Avenge me and we can be together. Only your hatred for Vansa and her progeny can help you destroy them and even the score." She sighed a heavenly sigh and urged him "Go back, your friends have recovered your body a paid for the ritual. You feel the pull even now."
Asher's spirit form turned towards the summons and headed back towards the portal exiting the realm. As he vanished into the blinding light of the portal - Alone.
As he disappeared, Varra's form began to change appearance. Large bat like wings began to emerge from Varra's back, ripping the Gar dress from her body which assumed more seductive curves as it transformed to its natural naked state. She smiled with delight at the chaos she had wrought, her elongated canine teeth prominent in her wolfish grin.
Tinraya felt good to be back in her natural form. She licked her lips reveling in the taste of the human's love, lust and despair. It was this distraction that prevented her from sensing the gray haired and bearded humanoid figure that was beside her until he spoke. "Humans are so easy to manipulate aren't they?" he said with a grand fatherly grin. She was about to share that grin when, to Tinraya's horror, she realized his feet did not quite touch the ground and understood his true identity and her grave mistake.
"I hope you enjoyed you little game and that it was worth the century you will now spend in agony." Shaundakul waved his hand and destroyed the form of the succubus banishing her from his realm. He thought on the methods of demons, so crude always playing on the strongest emotions in the most obvious ways. He thought on the plight of his follower, with a little subtlety, the demon's work could not only be repaired but used as an advantage. He enjoyed the subtleties of human existence and allows allowed for free will. He breathed his intentions into Asher's returning spirit like the stirring in the west that eventually turns into the west wind, twisting the succubus' work into something different, something resembling - - Hope.
Asher found himself in the mountains, the clear crisp afternoon air greeted him as he looked out on the sun drenched vast horizon, the whistling of the winds tantalizing his ears. As if the wind coalesced his muddled thoughts, he suddenly knew where he was. The Gates of the Moon, the domain of his patron, the Rider of the Winds, Shaundakul.
He looked around, yearning to see her, hoping that his actions have made him more worthy than the last time he found himself here - Alone.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted what he hope was not a wishful apparition. His heart quickened in his chest as he caught sight of the gaudy colored silken dress that epitomized the Gar style topped with a blur of silken ebony hair. As he turned, he drank in the full vision with a greedy thirst. The petite frame, the black hair, the dark eyes that he could almost drown in; it was his Varra. She has been waiting for him and now they would finally be together for all eternity in this paradise realm of the Helping Hand.
The tears of unabashed joy flowing down his cheeks turned cold as he noticed her expression as he approached her. Her face that he knew so well was darkened with the storm clouds of anger. Storm clouds he knew, in the past, almost washed him away in the furious deluge of her wrath. She looked at him, opened her mouth and accused "You have ruined everything . . .our afterlife . . . our love . .everything!"
Asher recoiled as if struck "But . . now we can finally be together." he replied.
Varra almost sneered "No, no we can not. You have lost focus, in order for me to be allowed my final enternal rest . . . I must be avenged. You have lost focus . . .I depended on you and you are weak."
Asher stood dumbfounded by the rebuke.
Varra continued "You were distracted by love and that weakened you. What I have learned in my time in the afterlife is that love is weak . . . hate is strong. You must use the strength of you hate to earn our eternity of bliss."
He shook his head vehemently trying to dispel the confusion he was feeling from the force of her attack "That can't be, our love was stronger than any hate. It was the basis of out life together."
A sort of derision came on the heels of Asher's comment. Immediately followed by her retort "Think about it. Since we've been parted, you have seen love in action. . . I have seen you smile, undoubtedly thinking of our time together, when Miss Gardner and Adam gently, chastely touch hands. Yet, they regularly endanger one another because of those feelings."
The diatribe continued " A what of Wren, has her love made her stronger? She pines for one she can never have and it has almost destroyed her." she barely paused before launching another verbal arrow "and what of the Siren and the Shadow? Their "love" caused your death and that of two more of their companions. . . for no reason at all."
Varra paused and took a deep breath. Her tempestuous demeanor softening once again. His face flushed with a different emotion as she turned her irresistibly seductive gaze to him locking eyes with him. "You can still fix this, love. Focus your will, focus your hatred. Avenge me and we can be together. Only your hatred for Vansa and her progeny can help you destroy them and even the score." She sighed a heavenly sigh and urged him "Go back, your friends have recovered your body a paid for the ritual. You feel the pull even now."
Asher's spirit form turned towards the summons and headed back towards the portal exiting the realm. As he vanished into the blinding light of the portal - Alone.
As he disappeared, Varra's form began to change appearance. Large bat like wings began to emerge from Varra's back, ripping the Gar dress from her body which assumed more seductive curves as it transformed to its natural naked state. She smiled with delight at the chaos she had wrought, her elongated canine teeth prominent in her wolfish grin.
Tinraya felt good to be back in her natural form. She licked her lips reveling in the taste of the human's love, lust and despair. It was this distraction that prevented her from sensing the gray haired and bearded humanoid figure that was beside her until he spoke. "Humans are so easy to manipulate aren't they?" he said with a grand fatherly grin. She was about to share that grin when, to Tinraya's horror, she realized his feet did not quite touch the ground and understood his true identity and her grave mistake.
"I hope you enjoyed you little game and that it was worth the century you will now spend in agony." Shaundakul waved his hand and destroyed the form of the succubus banishing her from his realm. He thought on the methods of demons, so crude always playing on the strongest emotions in the most obvious ways. He thought on the plight of his follower, with a little subtlety, the demon's work could not only be repaired but used as an advantage. He enjoyed the subtleties of human existence and allows allowed for free will. He breathed his intentions into Asher's returning spirit like the stirring in the west that eventually turns into the west wind, twisting the succubus' work into something different, something resembling - - Hope.
Current NWN1 PCs: Cyrus Thelvair, Castien Miracaryn, Yargrim Goldbrew.
"Bring out your dead!"
"Bring out your dead!"
-
oldgrayrogue
- Retired
- Posts: 3284
- Joined: Thu Jan 24, 2008 7:09 am
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Re: Alone
Seconded. Love Asher, and glad he will be back for another go.
Re: Alone
“I have some extra traps.” Asher whispered to Kal and Laird. They were in the Kryptgarden hunting the Zartruss Hobgoblins and he needed to be quiet as possible. Vale had warned that their scouts knew the Kryptgarden well and a surprise attack from them could be fatal. They had Kal and Laird as their own scouts so hopes were high that they could counter the advantage. Asher always felt at home in the forest, he had the ability to move quietly and unseen through the trees when he desired. He had done extensive hunting and trapping to help provide for his wife’s Gur family. He thought of Varra before he realized it. He dark hair and almost black eyes which so often glinted with mischief especially from beneath her colorful, almost gaudy Gur head scarf as she “read” the fortunes of the gullible yet well off townsfolk. They seemed like a typical travelling Gur family caravan to outsiders, no one would suspect they hunted the living dead.
“As do I” replied Kal just a bit quieter than Asher. It almost made Asher chuckle, Kal would always try to do things just a little better than Asher. Almost always succeeding, the rare exception came to mind, as he handed Sareena one of his finely craft hoods before they would all die fighting Kringus. Sareena took the hood and showed it to Kal. Yeti Hunter it was called it would protect from Cold, Undead and any weapon designed to cut. It was one of the finest Asher made. “It smells of him.” was Kal’s only comment. Not a valid criticism because he had none, Asher’s grin mirrored the one he had upon overhearing that comment.
What was he doing? This was no time to be reminiscing, a battle was about to begin . . . no that was not right . . . had just ended.
The night had started well. The party came across a large party of the Zartruss. Asher and, Laird stayed back release volley after volley as Grimnir, Kal, Vale and Hudol rushed into their ranks. The Hobgoblins fell quickly. The only concern was Grimnir’s srious wounds. As Asher feared, the dwarf ran into melee with wild abandon and suffered for it. As they entered the Kryptgarden, they scouted a large Zartruss party off in the distance. Kal set to lay down a number of traps to prevent the scouts from surprising them, that was the moment that Asher was re-living . . .he paused confused . . re-living? That was right, this was the past . . . just before . . . he gasped without sound for he had no corporeal form.
Yes, that was when the pack of Leucrotta dropped in on them. The beasts leaping over the traps as if they knew they were there and into the center of the party. Four . . . no wait . . five of the beasts. Asher’s bow came up and his arrow sunk deep into the creature attacking Vale’s hide. A brief smile that they were neither immune to his arrows and he could find weaknesses in their hides. Then, one turned towards him leaping and almost shattering his magical bow as its hooves dug deep furrows in his chest. Deftly swinging his bow to his shoulder, he brought his shield and short sword to bear. The creature lunged again destroying his magical blade and digging the fangs of it’s badger-like jaw on his wrist, destroying his magical bracers in an instant. Bleeding heavily, Asher rolled out of the melee and began to run, two of the beasts in hot pursuit. He thought to the potions of invisibility and readily at hand but if he stopped his acrobatic rolls and jumps for one second the beasts would surely catch him. He turned the wrong way rolling to his feet after diving headlong away from one of the beasts and rolled into the other’s attack. He was knocked to the ground, the jaws of the second monster clamping on his neck, destroying his windpipe and opening up his jugular.
He was on his spirit journey now. . . once again Alone.
TO BE COUNTINED
“As do I” replied Kal just a bit quieter than Asher. It almost made Asher chuckle, Kal would always try to do things just a little better than Asher. Almost always succeeding, the rare exception came to mind, as he handed Sareena one of his finely craft hoods before they would all die fighting Kringus. Sareena took the hood and showed it to Kal. Yeti Hunter it was called it would protect from Cold, Undead and any weapon designed to cut. It was one of the finest Asher made. “It smells of him.” was Kal’s only comment. Not a valid criticism because he had none, Asher’s grin mirrored the one he had upon overhearing that comment.
What was he doing? This was no time to be reminiscing, a battle was about to begin . . . no that was not right . . . had just ended.
The night had started well. The party came across a large party of the Zartruss. Asher and, Laird stayed back release volley after volley as Grimnir, Kal, Vale and Hudol rushed into their ranks. The Hobgoblins fell quickly. The only concern was Grimnir’s srious wounds. As Asher feared, the dwarf ran into melee with wild abandon and suffered for it. As they entered the Kryptgarden, they scouted a large Zartruss party off in the distance. Kal set to lay down a number of traps to prevent the scouts from surprising them, that was the moment that Asher was re-living . . .he paused confused . . re-living? That was right, this was the past . . . just before . . . he gasped without sound for he had no corporeal form.
Yes, that was when the pack of Leucrotta dropped in on them. The beasts leaping over the traps as if they knew they were there and into the center of the party. Four . . . no wait . . five of the beasts. Asher’s bow came up and his arrow sunk deep into the creature attacking Vale’s hide. A brief smile that they were neither immune to his arrows and he could find weaknesses in their hides. Then, one turned towards him leaping and almost shattering his magical bow as its hooves dug deep furrows in his chest. Deftly swinging his bow to his shoulder, he brought his shield and short sword to bear. The creature lunged again destroying his magical blade and digging the fangs of it’s badger-like jaw on his wrist, destroying his magical bracers in an instant. Bleeding heavily, Asher rolled out of the melee and began to run, two of the beasts in hot pursuit. He thought to the potions of invisibility and readily at hand but if he stopped his acrobatic rolls and jumps for one second the beasts would surely catch him. He turned the wrong way rolling to his feet after diving headlong away from one of the beasts and rolled into the other’s attack. He was knocked to the ground, the jaws of the second monster clamping on his neck, destroying his windpipe and opening up his jugular.
He was on his spirit journey now. . . once again Alone.
TO BE COUNTINED
Current NWN1 PCs: Cyrus Thelvair, Castien Miracaryn, Yargrim Goldbrew.
"Bring out your dead!"
"Bring out your dead!"
Re: Alone
Asher felt his essence move to the now familiar Gates of the Moon the high wind-blown plane of existence, home of his patron, the Rider of the WInds, Shaundakul. He saw silhouetted against the sunset on the ridge a shape he knew instantly even from this distance, it was her, his everything, Varra. Her dark hair floating on the ever-present breeze on this plane, she turned smiling with her eyes as well as her mouth.
“It is time my love” she said.
“Time?” he asked, his wits still fuzzy from the trauma. She leaped into his arms her own around his neck “For us to be together” she whispered inches from his face, her voice husky with emotion. “There is no more you can do, no more that the Helping Hand requires. Shaundakul is pleased.”
“But I . . haven’t accomplished anything . . you turned me away” he stammered.
“That was not me, love, it was a demon in my form. The Lord Shaundakul only allowed it to motivate you to go back . . . to be the agent of The Helping Hand. You have done so love, you have helped defeat the Aurilites and their Demon, you were part of the reason Vansa fled Waterdeep you have recued countless babes and removed goblin by the hundreds. I was watching dearest I was so proud.”
“But I did none of that alone. I . . “ he started to say.
“No love, you helped . . . the Way of Shaundakul is not the way of the lone warrior or mage casting down enemies by themselves. He is the Helping Hand; he works to better others so that the collective will succeed. Even now, although your skills can no longer help your friends that you left behind, they will continue to succeed with the items you crafted. Did you charge for them? You accepted their return gifts, but not once did you ever ask for payment.”
He grinned and nodded the way he often did in life. “I never looked at it that way.”
“Come my love” she said taking his spiritual hand leading him further into their Lord’s plane “for all eternity, we will be together, from this moment on, you are not alone.”
“It is time my love” she said.
“Time?” he asked, his wits still fuzzy from the trauma. She leaped into his arms her own around his neck “For us to be together” she whispered inches from his face, her voice husky with emotion. “There is no more you can do, no more that the Helping Hand requires. Shaundakul is pleased.”
“But I . . haven’t accomplished anything . . you turned me away” he stammered.
“That was not me, love, it was a demon in my form. The Lord Shaundakul only allowed it to motivate you to go back . . . to be the agent of The Helping Hand. You have done so love, you have helped defeat the Aurilites and their Demon, you were part of the reason Vansa fled Waterdeep you have recued countless babes and removed goblin by the hundreds. I was watching dearest I was so proud.”
“But I did none of that alone. I . . “ he started to say.
“No love, you helped . . . the Way of Shaundakul is not the way of the lone warrior or mage casting down enemies by themselves. He is the Helping Hand; he works to better others so that the collective will succeed. Even now, although your skills can no longer help your friends that you left behind, they will continue to succeed with the items you crafted. Did you charge for them? You accepted their return gifts, but not once did you ever ask for payment.”
He grinned and nodded the way he often did in life. “I never looked at it that way.”
“Come my love” she said taking his spiritual hand leading him further into their Lord’s plane “for all eternity, we will be together, from this moment on, you are not alone.”
Current NWN1 PCs: Cyrus Thelvair, Castien Miracaryn, Yargrim Goldbrew.
"Bring out your dead!"
"Bring out your dead!"