Vilquari

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jmecha
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Vilquari

Post by jmecha »

When the gloves came off, his scars were plain to see. Months ago he was simply a young man back packing across the realms exploring foreign cultures and customs. Leisurely pursuits were no longer his concern. When days working upon the deck of the Hungry Cunt were not brutal enough to completely exhaust him, Argos was cursed with time alone his scars and thoughts. This particularly day had presented fair winds and as smooth a sea as any sailor could ask to sail across, and Argos marches towards his quarters with a scowl upon his face because he knew he had not worked hard enough to collapse into the sweet bliss of total exhaustion.

With his soaking wet cloths hung upon a line to dry he sat naked and alone with his hands held out before him while his eyes studied the heavy scarring that was the landscape of his knuckles. For as long as he could remember he had been willing to resort to violence as form of conflict resolution, never though had he been the mindless sort to risk breaking his own hands by smashing them against inanimate objects as a form of expression. As water leaves it’s mark upon stone, scars can tell you the history of a man. The scars upon the back of his hands and knuckles appeared to tell the tale of a man who smashed his fists and hands against stone or steel beyond what a man should endure. Argos scowl deepened as he pondered under what circumstances he would believe savagely beating his flesh and bone against stone was a proper course of action. He then sighed with despair when he once more revisited the possibility that he may no longer be a man of sound mind and body, and that the scars on the backs of his hands may simply tell the tale of his descent into madness. The scars could be the trail markings of a moon touched fool who fancied painting a stone wall red with his own blood through brutality. Argos did not find any of the possibilities acceptable.
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Re: Vilquari

Post by jmecha »

When Argos Klax looked into the mirror, a stranger with an unkempt beard meet his gaze. Originally he had grown out a beard and kept it exceptionally well trimmed as an act of youthful rebellion and experimentation. Traditionally the men of Chessenta are clean shaving and the presence of facial hair was evidence of one’s status as a foreigner or slave. Even among slaves though it was common practice for Masters to grant those who have proven themselves trust worthy and capable the privilege of shaving and presenting themselves to the world with a clean face.

Accepting the truth that he was not a free man took time. While he was bound and dragged to the slave auctions of Skuag he was not a slave in his opinion, he was simply captured biding his time and waiting for his opportunity to escape. When tossed into the caverns of goblins and monstrous beetles he was not a slave, but simply a man in a desperate situation struggling for survival, fighting along side those who would become his companions. Fighting to survive the trial, to live through it and bid more time until the opportunity to escape could be seized. Thinking about that cavern and the events that unfolded within always darkened his mood.

There were Thirteen of them tossed into that cavern. Thirteen of them wearing manacles and rags. Thirteen of them left to fend for themselves against the dangers the caverns presented. Alator’s gifts are not for the weak they were told. Alator only desires the strongest to serve him. The fighting was brutal and savage as they made use of their hands, crude clubs and rocks to fight off the goblins. The worst of the fighting left the band of them bloodied and reduced their numbers from Thirteen to Twelve. It was after that fight, while most licked wounds and took stock of themselves that Argos lowered the count to Eleven.

While the others were busy recovering from the fighting, Njall crept ahead and Argos stalked behind him to provide the scout some measure of security. The cave was dark and the pair of men were bloodied and exhausted as they took up their post as sentries only a stone’s throw away from the others. There they waited in the dark working to calm their ragged breaths and straining their ears to listen for danger over the sound of their own beating hearts. When Njall whispered that someone or something was coming their way, Argos did not hesitate. He knew where the bend in the tunnel was and he waited with his club held high above his head, poised and waiting to come down hard and without mercy upon what threat dared approach them next.

Quick and brutal swings of the club in rapid succession reduced the Twelve to Eleven. It was not until after he followed through with the second swing, the one that shattered her skull that he realized she had screamed for him to stop his assault. As the others approached from behind they found him standing there over her. His breath was ragged and his club bloodied, she laid still and lifeless with her spear still held tight in her dead hands. They asked what happened and he said it had been dark, and then he discarded his club and took the spear she would no longer be needing.

Argos had no intention of taking a shaving blade to his face and neck anytime in the near future, not until he could trust the hands that wield it, not until he was a freeman.
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Re: Vilquari

Post by jmecha »

Lathander beat down without mercy upon the crows nest and Argos Klax decided against suicide. It was not the first time he had contemplated such since he had been informed that he was designed to serve the Illithid. At times removing himself from the board seemed like a practical means to deny his services to Alator, and other times he wondered if removing himself from play is exactly what the Illithid desired.

It was a complicated affair not knowing what color he served upon the Lanceboard of life. At times his actions and the actions of his peers have in their way served Alator, yet he believed it was his goal to discover Alator’s endgame and prevent such from coming to pass. He and the others had been striving desperately against all odds to track down members of Alator’s organization, capture them and interrogate them, and time and time again each and everyone of their prisoners has fallen dead shortly after coming into his custody. Zakresh the formidable and most cunning Half-Orc warrior was saved from damnation to servitude as a Drow Slave in the Underdark by the actions taken by himself and his companions, only to be cut down moments later in a battle that could have been avoided if not for Njall’s mind lying to him and his resulting actions drawing the violence of a Drow army to us. Brella Wetblade was caught for a second time after a harrowing chase across the ocean floor, only to be slain by Argo’s own hand minutes before she could be questioned. Did he slay her and use her body for shark bait so he and his may escape the feeding frenzy unmolested, or were the motivations behind his actions truly to silence another one of Alator’s servants before they could betray him?

It was a madding affair to contemplate, the perfection of the Illithid’s gambit. What better a deception then to allow your thralls to truly believe their actions in service to him are actually their own choices made to serve their own cause. It was circular thinking at it’s worse, the pondering if he was his own man or simply Alator’s unwitting minion. Often Argos strived to avoid the topic within his own mind, electing to use hard labor and a brutal training regiment to avoid time to contemplate such. On days like today when he was left alone in the crows nest with nothing but his thoughts for company, he tried to break the cycle of the thinking by taking comfort in knowing the gods of his companions had not abandoned them, Yvette showed to still have the favor of the Merchant’s Friend and Bamshogbo the Mazewalker’s prayers did not go unanswered.
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Re: Vilquari

Post by Rumple C »

((great stuff))
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Re: Vilquari

Post by jmecha »

The ship pitched and rolled with the waves, and Argos growled as he hit the floor. It was while picking his weary self off the floor of his quarters that he decided his body had suffered enough abuse for the day. There would be no more unnatural stretching exercise or attempted feats of balance until after the storm passed and his body time to recover. It was with a scowl upon his face that he resigned himself to the least enjoyable aspect of his now daily ritual. Throughout the day he would busy himself with deck work, during meals he would eat with a tome to read, in the evening he would go through what basic monastic training exercises he had read about during the day, and after he had done all that he knew how to do for the day he would sit and do what he could not.

“Your mind remains. Your soul, remains. You may come to know yourself.
If your mind overcomes the flesh, know I will spare you.
You look for answers without.
They are to be found within.”


This was the guidance provided to him by Karath of the Githzerai, and at first it made Argos ball his fists and gnash his teeth with frustration. This otherworldly being who had either no true grasp upon the languages of Toril or was so very alien in mind that no mastery of language could aid their exchange, he was the only living breathing source of information Argos had access to in regards to the truths of the Illithids and what had been done to him and his companions. Nipples upon a breastplate, that was the worth of Karath’s wisdom to Argos Klax of Cimbar when he first heard the words. Several Rides of contemplation since and Argos had yet to find what practical value such drivel held.

Argos was no stranger to the concept of Metacognition, such high minded subject matter was not unpopular among the philosophers of Cimbar be they respected members of society or wine house regulars. Thinking about his thinking though had done little to serve his cause, and more often then not left him wishing he had not bothered. What little he had been able to read about Monastic Orders of Various Traditions all contained some varying degree of nonsense. Like Karath’s shared wisdom , Argo’s reading material often provided methods so exceptionally vague and cryptic as to render the material useless.

The ship continued to pitch and roll in the storm and Argos sat uncomfortably upon the floor of his quarters. His legs were folded under him, his hands were where the texts claimed they should be, and with carefully measured breaths through clenched teeth he sat there miserably waiting to see without looking, hear without listening, and to know without being.
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thinkpig
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Re: Vilquari

Post by thinkpig »

Great work JM keep it coming!!!
"So Mom, Dad... about that gold those guys brought me when I was a baby. You remember that GOLD, right?" - Jesus
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Re: Vilquari

Post by jmecha »

The ship maintained course, Argos Klax struggled to decide his own. It was his day’s end and he sat naked and scarred upon the rough wooden floor of his quarters. While the physical conditioning and martial applications of his new training regiment had been providing impressive results, Argos himself had never before been filled with so very much self loathing and doubt. There were implications to the horrors he had bore witness to that he was unwilling to face. This evening though Argos had decided that he could no longer afford to wallow in indecision and he needed to face his fears and potential accept the unacceptable truths of his condition.

“You are as Vilquar was, a traitor to your own, blind to the truth. You do not know yourself, what you have become.”

What was he?

So very much of who he was had been called into question in recent days. So many of the things he identified as himself may no longer be. There was a very real possibility that he was simply no longer human. So very much of what he identified as himself was tied directly to his being Argos Klax of Cimbar, a man of Chessenta exploring the Realms with aspirations of one day returning home to live out his life a man of the community raising a family of his own. Now none of that may remain true. Argos did not know what line acted as the divide between Humanity and the Aberrations, and more importantly he did not know on which side of this line he existed. After a time he decided to imagine there being no line drawn to divide man from monster.

If he was no longer Argos Klax of Man, if he was now Argos Klax of the Illithid what would such need to truly mean?

So long as his mind remained, was not the flesh and circumstances of his situation nothing more then superficial? Temproal?
A man can be cold in winter and warm in summer, regardless of season though he remains a man.

So long as his mind remained his own, did it matter the origin of his flesh, the composition of his body?

Argos decided that it did not matter. There were changes he needed to accept no different then as if he had lost a limb or suffered a wound battle. He may no longer be able to have children of his own, and it was a painful and difficult realization to accept though it was a truth. He though also accepted that What he is need not be what decides Who he is.

It was with this thought in mind that Argos slowly picked himself off the floor and reached for a blanket to in which to wrap himself. It was now later into the night and there was a chill in the air. Tonight Argos Klax be him a man or aberration, would sleep soundly and come the morning he would awaken far less concerned with What he was. That fear had been faced and he need no longer distract himself from the possibility he was no longer human. He had come to terms with that horror, and was now free to decide Who he would be regardless of What he was.
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Re: Vilquari

Post by jmecha »

When the violent mental assault tore through the combatants the fighting halted abruptly and Argos Klax reeled upon his heels, his reality shattered. The brutality his mind had just survived was worse then any blow to the head he had ever suffered. It took a full minute or more for his senses to return and when they did Argos found his companions under the watchful eyes of a dozen archers posed and ready to let arrows fly. Serene demanded answers and Argos knew the truth was not going to please her.

Serene had been one of them, one of the thirteen bought from the cages of Skuag’s Market and put through Alator’s trials. After those who survived escaped and became free she had chosen to go her own way. Now here she stood before them a leader of men, the Bandit Queen of Alaron Isle. Defending her lands, title, and secrets.

When Argo’s head was clear enough that he may form words once more, he offered forth to Serene the truth as best he could. Argos struggled to explain to her how Alator used them as experimental breeding stock and when he had finished she shared with him the truth of her experiences.

Serene spoke of the Hunger she could not sate. She spoke of her experimentation with eating deer brains at first and how they served to stop the hunger pains just enough to know she needed something more then an animal could offer. It was with a look of disgust upon her face, either for Argos or for her own actions that she spoke of consuming the brains of men and women. It was then with a very different expression she shared words of the power she had come to know after that first satisfying meal.

It was not a stalemate, Serene and her bandits held the advantage and it was by Serene's decree that we were free to leave her swamp, join her ranks, or resume the fighting where it had been interrupted. When the Dwarven warrior Gwylla Darathrun spoke up and said it was time to concede the swamp to Serene and her forces, Argos offered not protest. Together the dwarves and the Vilquari abandoned Serene to her choices, except for the savage Zardoz who remained by her side.

At the edge of the swamp Gwylla Darathrun gave the order for a halt. The Vilquari and Dwarves began to use the stop as an opportunity to exchange words, and the tension in the air was almost as foul as the swamp’s heat and humidity. As quickly as the disagreements began the conversations came to a close as Zardoz came running through the jungle’s swamp towards the gathered. Short of breath and gasping for air he choked out the words that declared Serene dead, another fallen to Karrath’s hands.
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Re: Vilquari

Post by jmecha »

The gate guard of low hill scratched his nose and offered a hello, and Argos Klax responded with a deep and respectful nod towards the small man at arms. He was on his way back to Corewell and had no interest in small talk.

“Fine day out, innit?”

Discussing the weather, perhaps the least interesting variation of small talk known to man. Though the hin was a warrior and defender of his people, and Argos respected such, and out of such respect he stopped to humor the hin. After a moment of examining the clear skies and feeling the sun shine upon his face, Argos nodded in agreement to the hin and told him plan.

“It is a fine day.”

It was with this Argos felt the conversation had come to a close and he began once more to march towards Corewell. Though the hin smiled pleasantly and thought to continue the conversation and once more stopped Argos with words.

“ Shame that monk not gunna let ye lot live, huh? Better enjoy it while ye can.”

Very slowly Argos turned to face the Hin who had decided to rest his feet and take a seat upon the nearby wagon. While the Hin went about rolling himself some pipeweed, Argos did his best to sound casual as he asked the Hin to repeat himself. With a wave of his free hand towards the sky the hin replied.

“I said shame its not gunna last. Looks like some rain's movin' in.”

His suspicion was confirmed. Argos knew that his mind was not telling him what was being said, but instead telling him a very different message. With a concerned frown upon his face Argos nodded once more to the smiling and pleasant hin, and the pair exchanged their farewells before parting ways.

With a scowl upon his face and heavy thoughts within his head he decided to visit the shore before he dared the gates of Corewell. He believed he needed time to sort himself out before he risked the crowds of Corewell. He was well armed and feared that in his current state he maybe a horrible threat to himself and others. After several long moments of his mind racing Argos felt an acceptable calm come over him and decided to make for the city gates.

Argos offered the defenders a deep nod as he passed between them and towards the square, one of the men at arms scratched at his crotch. Argos took comfort in knowing his senses were once more properly tuned to reality. Several steps deeper into town though that comfort was taken from him as he overheard one of the Ffolk ask another in conversation.

“Would ye really rather die, if'n ye can't live on yer own terms?”

Argos did not stop and instead warily pressed on towards the Boar’s Tusk. When he reached the town square a rain began to fall hard just as the Low Hill Hin had predicted. Argos stopped and stood in the rain with his hand out to catch the rain drops, and his eyes watching the square’s traffic. A woman beside the well spoke up just before she and others hurried off seeking shelter from the storm.

“Life is change, they say. Sometimes you have to roll with it. Can't always pick your friends and enemies you know.”

Wet from rain and wary of his sense of reality, Argos carefully approached the Inn Keep and inquired about getting a room for himself, private quarters that need not be shared. While the inn keep set his counter top rag aside, Argos went about counting out the coins required.

“I've got one room left, aye. Just keep in mind you make choices for more than just yourself, Argos. You may be willing to accept death at the hands of the Gith, but will you make that choice for the others?”

Without a word Argos simply set upon the counter the small stack of coins.

Well? Is that alright or ain't it?

Argos did not know what the man was asking and decided simply to nod, which prompted a frown from the inn keep. After taking the coins a key was produced and warning delivered.

“I mean it, if I so much as catch a wiff of pipeweed in there yer out on yer arse.”

With his room key in hand Argos carefully made his way pass silent Coinlass who smiled and offered him a show of her legs. Argos respected the danger that the stairs maybe for a man who was out of sorts and he made an effort to make use of the hand rails as he climbed up towards his room. No doubt he looked a man lost in the dreams of strong smoke, though his appearance was the least of his concerns. Once upon the second floor Argos managed to find his room and lock himself within.
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Re: Vilquari

Post by thinkpig »

great work again, keep'em coming mecha!
"So Mom, Dad... about that gold those guys brought me when I was a baby. You remember that GOLD, right?" - Jesus
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Re: Vilquari

Post by jmecha »

After the door was locked Argos stripped himself bare making a conscious effort to stow away all of his weapons rings and equipment safely. He believed such the most responsible course of action for a man who’s sense of reality was slipping, weapons would only make him a danger to himself and others in his current state. Once he was unburdened of even his cloths Argos moved to sit naked before the mirror that the room provided. He immediately went about using his fingertips to inspect his head for abnormalities and his inspection was interrupted by an unexpected question.

“What do you hope to achieve, Argos?”

He saw himself reflected in the mirror, over his shoulder and sitting comfortably in one of the chairs beside the fireplace. He sat there wearing all of the weapons and equipment he himself had just thoroughly removed moments ago. Argos was immediately stricken with the instinct for fight or flight and gave thought to springing towards his own weapons or perhaps fleeing out the second floor window and into the square of Corewell below. It was then he felt embarrassed and remembered he had locked himself inside this room for the very reason of providing himself some measure of security against endangering others and himself. Fighting himself here in this room, flinging himself naked into the square of Corewell is exactly the manner of behavior he was looking to avoid, part of Argos want to respond simply by stating that in the moment he was doubting his sanity.


“Time moves strangely on the planes. Karath may have spent five of your lifetimes in such meditations. You will be no match for him, regardless of your efforts.”

To this Argos replied truthfully that he had no interest in defeating Karrath and before he could elaborate he interrupted himself with another question from the arm chair.

“Then you have no interest in surviving?”

Argos slowly and carefully rose to his feet and turned to face himself. The Argos who sat calmly in the chair simply return his gaze.

“I do not know that Karrath is a threat to my existence.”

With a slow nod of his head he replied.
“But you do not know he is not a threat. He needs you only to help him find and kill Alator; once that is done, you will have no other purpose. You will be abomination, to be destroyed.”

With a slow and scarred right hand Argos reached up to scratch at the mess of hair that had become his beard. When his answer came to him he carefully choice the words he felt best to express such.

“Life should have a meaningful purpose...leading Karrath to Alator would not be my first choice in a life's work...though if I can accomplish such without...without losing myself to the other....then such maybe a fine death.”

Without hesitation he immediately asked himself .
“And are you willing to make this choice for the others?”

“You ask if I would decide the weather......each of them will make their own choices as they always have.....if my example inspires them to side with me or against me....so be it.....I though can not decide for them.”

“You cannot decide for them, but you can strike down those who disagree with you.”

That made his beard itch and so he scratched while he decided.
“ I could.....this is true.”

"Choices Argos, are all we have."

"I suspect in saying such you maybe true."

You have more choices than most. Most are born who they are. Argos was born, raised into what he is.

“I have been struggling with such recently.”

“But you, you choose to be Argos. And you may choose not to be. The others face similar choices. It is a profound thing, to chose one's own identify. A rare opportunity, not to be squandered.”

“I accept that I am not Argos Klax of Cimbar. It would be untrue to claim that I am. That man's brain was consumed by me...and I now live in what was his body, warden of his memories. I accept this.”

“When a man eats, defecates, lives, he is no longer who he was a moment ago. Parts of him die, and are replenished”

Standing naked he nodded his head in agreement.

“For you the process was more abrupt, and you have new parts, new capabilities, you did not previously possess.”

“I have been struggling with not knowing how long I may exist...without threat of Karrath, without my questing for answers...how long can I exist in this body, living this life? It humors me that Argos never concerned himself with such in his life......he knew that he would die in battle before his time or as an old man stricken down by time.....and he accepted such. I have decided that I will also accept such......I am something different from the Human....different from the Illithid. I do not know how many grains are left in the hour glass but no one does…”

As he spoke Argos slowly walked towards the chairs before the fireplace, he steped closer towards himself.

“I have been thinking about these matters and more....and you say that I...We are unquie because we can decide Who we will be.…”

It was then that he took a seat beside himself.

“Do not be blinded by categories, Argos. You say you are neither man nor illithid, and this is true. But these things are words, divisions not in reality but in our minds.”

“I do not know that such makes us so very unique......the ablity to choose Who one will be, I believe is something possesed all beings with mind enough to recognize themselves.”

“You are in many ways a man, and in many ways an illithid. There have been creatures less human than you who called themselves men, and illithid more human who thought themselves monsters. We are not who we are from moment to moment; we are not slain and reborn with each deep sleep, each breath, or even a transformation as you have gone through. The mind may exist and persist in many forms. The brain and soul are just vessels.”

“You are claiming that We are Argos Klax and merely his brain matter has changed? You do not believe that We are the Illithid of stunted growth living in a human body we do not know how to transform, living with a dead man's memories as our own?”

The well armed Argos took a deep breath and looked over his naked self beside him.
“There is no Argos Klax, beyond yours and others' belief in him.”

To this Argos nodded in agreement.

“This belief may persist in your new brain .. or you may discard it. Eons ago, there were others like you. Some Gith believe Vilquar was the first, but it matters little.”

At this Argos raises a suspicious brow. The Argos before him has just spoken of a history he was unaware of, he spoke as if he knew the tale of Vilquar. The tale of Vilquar is one that Argos knew he did not know.

“ Perhaps they learned from this Vilquar, that the self is what it perceives itself to be, and thus were the great adversaries of the illithid created; the minds of Gith, in the flesh of the enemy. It was the beginning of the end for the mind flayers. And so I say, the flesh is of little consequence.”

While he listened to what appeared to be his own words spoken from his own mouth Argos searched through the different possibilities of who the one before him actually was. After a moment of his mind racing he decided that this was most likely Karrath before him, making use of illusions and psionic mind tricks to test Argos, to probe his thoughts and opinions, to see if his existence needed to be put to an end. He took some measure of comfort in realizing he was not actually losing his mind, not imagining hallucinations of himself and all his recent episode was little more then the strange Githerai pulling upon the strings of his mind, testing him. That was the most reasonable explanation.

“I agree. I am what I am be it a man with their brain, or one of them with........what matters are the choices I make from here on out.”

Karrath masked behind the illusion of being Argos slowly nodded.
“Then you know these powers, embrace them or not, will not destroy who you are.”

“What of....the hunger?”

“A necissity of the illithid's potent psychic abilities.”

I fear it.....I do not understand it....I do not know if denying such will be to starve myself or simply to deny pleasure....does feeding the hunger quicken the other?”

“To fully use your abilities you may have to feed, Argos. Serene had no self control. She used her powers, and grew hungry.”

“I do not want....to want the brains of men.”

“Do you want to kill a man, a father, or a son? To watch the light fade from his eyes as your sword pierces a lung, and then a heart?”

“The lives I have taken I took with an understanding that such was my choice....I understood the choice to choose my survival over their own....I understood I was fighting for my ideals and they for their own. I if I am to make the choice to consume the brains of men, or not to.....I would want to make such choice with knowing. Is life without even an option?A man can not exist without water.”

“An illithid cannot exist without the psychic potential of living minds. But you were meant to live among men, not illithid. You do not have their full power. It is doubtful you ever could.”

“There may come a day I choose to consume the brain of another for the power it would grant me....that day may come. Knowing though that such is a temptation.....a Want...and not a Need.....gives me strength in making the choice my own.”

Karrath slowly nodded and replied simply
“The choice is yours. Wants turn to needs, but dicipline may defeat such needs.”


“Why is it you killed Serene? Because she consumed brains? or because she was mad with power....treating her forces as her thralls and the people she ate as cattle?”

Karrath did not answer and after a moment of silence Argos continued.

“I wanted to go back and slay her myself....at the time I believed it was my responsibility......I believe several of the others would have aided.....I now though realize I wanted to see her dead because she was what I fear the most within myself.”

Karrath then spoke words that surprised Argos.
“These two things are not unrelated: the illithid look upon men as you look upon cows. To kill a man, or to consume his brains, is not necessarily an evil act. It is the why. I would not pretend to know the mind of creatures such as the mind flayers, Argos.”

Slowly the visitor got to his feet and moved towards the door, it was then that Argos realized that this visitor was not Karrath. The Githerai spoke in awkward cryptic phrases, he abused the trade tongue in ways that made the dirtet and least educated of barbarian tribes appear well spoken in comparison. This visitor was not Karrath, Rising to his feet and once more approaching his guest Argos offered a small challenge of words, to measure this one before him, to gauge his response.

“Karrath, your common has improved.”

The figure before him simply turned to look at Argos standing there naked and remained silent for a long moment. This silence was put to an end when Argos spoke.

“Next you come to call though...I would prefer you do so without.....illusions.”

“There are no illusions here, Argos.”

With narrowed eyes Argos demanded explanation.

“The mind of a man cannot understand all that your new flesh is capable of. What you see, what you hear, may be echoes of things men cannot comprehend.”

For a moment Argos debated launching an attack at this visitor before him, and then decided instead to move to open the door for himself.

The visitor that appeared to be none other then Argos himself stepped through the threshold and into the hall, stepping upon a creeky floorboard that made no sound.

“You all have many choices ahead of you. Choose wisely, and remember you may choose for more than just yourself.”
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Re: Vilquari

Post by Rumple C »

Brilliant. Very compelling.
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Re: Vilquari

Post by Brokenbone »

Much enjoying. Keep 'er up.
ALFA NWN2 PCs: Rhaggot of the Bruised-Eye, and Bamshogbo
ALFA NWN1 PC: Jacobim Foxmantle
ALFA NWN1 Dead PC: Jon Shieldjack

DMA Staff
jmecha
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Posts: 1699
Joined: Mon Nov 15, 2004 4:22 pm
Location: Chicago
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Re: Vilquari

Post by jmecha »

Who is Argos Klax was not the question.
The name Argos Klax belonged to a man that may or may not be.
Names were a label, a divider that made it easier identify one from others.
Division gave strength to one’s identity, it also acted to limit one’s sense of self.

Who am I?
He decided that the answer required a process not a product.
Answering who he was would be a journey that would last a lifetime or more.
Only when one is no more, is the destination reached.
Only then is the answer complete.

The process, the journey, though, had already begun and he reflected on the steps taken.
He identified himself as a man, not as some asexual being void of gender.
He had a man’s desires for women and wine.
He had decided it would be irresponsible to indulge such.
What may come for soaking himself in wine was unknown.
What may come from this body breeding was unknown.

He had decided not to be irresponsible.
The choices he made would be the steps of this journey of self discovery.
He would strive to make his choices from a place of knowing and understanding.
He would take responsibility for them.

He knew that he had a Mind, Body, and Soul.
He knew that they were his now, regardless their origins.
He knew that the body had been violated.
He knew that the mind was fractured.
He knew that the soul was shaken.
They were his and he would take responsibility for their care.

Having a responsibility did not make one responsible.
Tending to such did.
He would tend to his body.
He would tend to his mind.
He would tend to his soul.
They were vessels of his voyage.

He had let fear of who he may be weaken him.
He had put the responsibility of his journey’s end in the hands of another.
He had decided he would overcome his fear.
He would shoulder his own load.
He would soldier on.
He would not let another decide his journey end without a fight.

He would keep or take the name Argos Klax.
A name was practical.
He was practical.
He was already known as such, and it did not need changing.
Current Characters: Aelenta Renvanith
Twin Axes
Dungeon Master
Posts: 1327
Joined: Tue Jan 31, 2006 5:43 am
Location: The Frozen North
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Re: Vilquari

Post by Twin Axes »

More, please.
"[T]he dwarvern people, are machine-like, and it is impossible to reason with a machine." - Susana
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