Again
I opened the door. Again. Again. Again. How could they not see it?
“Ethriel,” he called to me. Honored sister. “What do you see that we do not?” his lilting song full of concern, until he saw the open door.
“Again the Tree is threatened. Again it will take our blood to save it. Again. Again. Again.”
“Our blood, indeed,” fear filled his song. “The door was locked for a reason, so I have been led to believe. What might lie beneath might be worse than we have here. Last hope of our kind.”
“Last hope?” I gazed upon nothingness beyond the door. “The roots are gnawed upon, the bark is attacked.” Her wood felt so warm beneath my fingers. “She is wounded.”
“Ethriel, not yet,” he begs me. I do not even know his name. “Let it, indeed, be the last hope.”
“Why do you fear?”
“Corellon put the mark for a reason,” he sighed. “But, if you are inclined it is my duty to follow you through that door.”
“Erevan unlocked it for a reason,” I almost laugh.
“Last hope, ethriel,” he convinced me to wait. “Last hope.”
“I will wait.”
“There is still hope in this world,” his relief washes over me. The kinslayer called for her war party, while I remained. Blessed Reverie:
So many dead, and so many more to come. This second night it is just me and the little mother. The foes stop, long enough for us to catch our breath. I am no warrior!
A ghost comes, what was once a thin elf holds its head and screams. How my ears ring! Does no one else hear it? “They come!” it cries. I cannot cover my ears enough. It screams again. A rock digs into my knee, I do not remember falling.
“They come. Come. Come.” whispered rhythm I cannot stop hearing. Little Mother yells at me to get back.
“Again,” it whispers to me. I shake my head clear and lay a few traps. I am no warrior! Little Mother asks a question, but she makes no sense. Goblins come. The Greys come. It runs to me with its axe held high. It laughs.
Light. So bright.
Pain. I must be dying.
Air. I need air.
Something shakes me, the pain sounds like a wardrum.
“Wake up. No time for sleeping now.” I can hear Little Mother’s smile. She smiles all the time. “Come along now. Only a few more hours until dawn.”
Pain.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
“Again. Again. Again.”
Light. But no one is attacking right now. The dawn sky lights too fast. I see the Tree in the sky.
“Again. Again. Again.” the ghost will not shut up, mocking the pain in my head.
The Liar shows. Drums beat in the east, in time to my pain. The Kinslayer shows. What hope for the Tree with these two to save it? Creatures spill from the east, I lend my bow. Battle quiets the ghost, but it starts again when all is silent.
“Again. Again. Again.”
What power in a word, to make us look back. Something will be repeated. I spill too much blood in this town, first my heart and now my head. But that is not all that happens again. Will the kinslayer fell her own? Will the Liar claim blessings that are not his? Will the Tree need elf blood to live? Yes. That must be it. Again. Again. Again. The door was sealed when the last Tel’Quessir of the Tree gave their life to defend it. Again it is threatened. Again it needs to be defended. Again. Again. Again.
They tell me to be quiet. Look at me like my head is cracked open. More come. Goblins, minotaurs, Greys, slugs, more and more and more. The Liar insists on healing me. Why? His nearness disgusts me.
The kinslayer yells at me, her breath foul as an orqu. She leads the Liar and Little Mother to the Tree. For the Tree do I follow. I must know how this ends.
Giants. Dhearow. Greys. Spidermen.
We find the Tree, She is surrounded by Greys. A precious potion and soft step find me at Her steps. I go to the door. Corellon sealed it. It is unlocked. I open it to gaze upon nothingness.
I opened my eyes to stare at the ceiling of my old room. It is quiet here. I once told Isaniel this Tree needed children. She had just smiled at me in her enigmatic way.
Quiet. Outside the wildlife slowly returns. Blood on the ground makes the grass seem brighter.
The Tree lives.
Dul Nu'aith
-
Misty
- Proletarian Librarian
- Posts: 1332
- Joined: Wed Jun 16, 2004 4:10 pm
- Location: Lazin' by el Rio Blanco
Dul Nu'aith
Last edited by Misty on Mon Oct 09, 2006 4:45 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Last PC: Laurelin ~ dancer, trickster and professional pain-in-the-backside
Currently living like Rip van Winkle.
Currently living like Rip van Winkle.
They had descended into the depths of the Realm, down an ancient spiral staircase hugging the walls around a dark and bottomless pit. She walked between them feeling the damp wall as she descended cautiously, the human she didn't trust, the elf she trusted less and the elves she had only just met. What a group to have been thrust amongst to save the region, but she had allied herself with worse for the greater good before.
And then after a long time, the gods only knew how many miles, the staircase abruptly ended, although the pit did not. A rope lead down onto a platform jutting out over the pit, opening out into some ancient underground structure.
Barely a few minutes later, one of the elves was dead and maybe half a dozen greys. The ground in the ancient dwarven structure was covered in traps and they had been harried by the duergar constantly since they stepped off the platform. They were in a chamber, with a glowing statue of a dwarf towering in the center of the room. "This way." Said the elf she knew, picking a corridor at random.
A little more than a minute later all that remained of the group was three, the shady human, the hin and the angry elf. Several dead drow to show for the lives of the other elves. Ahead was large chamber. They entered.
A short time later, she stood behind the elf, casting healing spell after healing spell as she fought her mirror image. Even now, she realised all was lost. The mirror image had barely been scratched while she had constantly brought her elven ally back from the edge of death. The mirror image had been posioned by the spider she had summoned, but even so she was barely slowed. The duergar warrior merely watched on with quiet amusement, entering the fray only briefly to kill a dire bear she had summoned. The dire bear had not even been able to break the skin of the dwarf before being dispersed back into the ether by the grey dwarf's axe. They stood no chance, and she was almost out of healing spells.
And then they ran. The mirror image calling out to the elf, mocking, while the dwarf chased behind them closely. She had lost track of the elf, but she could not go back for her, there was nothing she could do. All of her spells were spent. Finally she could see the platform and the rope. She reached it, and then all went black. She fell to her knees to search for the rope in the magical darkness, trusting in Yondalla to prevent her from falling over the side as she felt bolts painfully collide into her side as she scrambled about. Finally she found the rope and pulled herself up and she began running up the stairs.
She ran, and she ran, ignoring the blood from her wounds, the burning of her lungs and the taste of blood and bile in her mouth as she ran beyond what she was capable of. Her only thought was to get back to the Warren to warn them of what was about to happen. And finally she reached the light and burst out into the day, almost falling down the stairs and the waiting force of elves. She had barely even noticed the human following her and paid him little heed now. She had only just began to tell them what had happened when the tree began its dying throes. The elves ran in a panic, away from the tree with tears of grief in their eyes as they realised what was happening. She followed, walking back to the road slowly as she could not muster the energy to run anymore.
Back at the warrren, she entered the Sheriff's office. "Prepare the people for a possible evacuation. We may need to leave soon. Take in any elven refugees who come to us for aid." She calmly gave her orders. "Now I must go to the temple to pray for guidance". She went to the temple and prayed until her prayers were interupted by a large flash of light. She exited the temple to see a bright glow in the forest from the direction of the tree. And then the glow stopped and a sense of peace eminated from the forest.
Victory snatched from the jaws of defeat.
And then after a long time, the gods only knew how many miles, the staircase abruptly ended, although the pit did not. A rope lead down onto a platform jutting out over the pit, opening out into some ancient underground structure.
Barely a few minutes later, one of the elves was dead and maybe half a dozen greys. The ground in the ancient dwarven structure was covered in traps and they had been harried by the duergar constantly since they stepped off the platform. They were in a chamber, with a glowing statue of a dwarf towering in the center of the room. "This way." Said the elf she knew, picking a corridor at random.
A little more than a minute later all that remained of the group was three, the shady human, the hin and the angry elf. Several dead drow to show for the lives of the other elves. Ahead was large chamber. They entered.
A short time later, she stood behind the elf, casting healing spell after healing spell as she fought her mirror image. Even now, she realised all was lost. The mirror image had barely been scratched while she had constantly brought her elven ally back from the edge of death. The mirror image had been posioned by the spider she had summoned, but even so she was barely slowed. The duergar warrior merely watched on with quiet amusement, entering the fray only briefly to kill a dire bear she had summoned. The dire bear had not even been able to break the skin of the dwarf before being dispersed back into the ether by the grey dwarf's axe. They stood no chance, and she was almost out of healing spells.
And then they ran. The mirror image calling out to the elf, mocking, while the dwarf chased behind them closely. She had lost track of the elf, but she could not go back for her, there was nothing she could do. All of her spells were spent. Finally she could see the platform and the rope. She reached it, and then all went black. She fell to her knees to search for the rope in the magical darkness, trusting in Yondalla to prevent her from falling over the side as she felt bolts painfully collide into her side as she scrambled about. Finally she found the rope and pulled herself up and she began running up the stairs.
She ran, and she ran, ignoring the blood from her wounds, the burning of her lungs and the taste of blood and bile in her mouth as she ran beyond what she was capable of. Her only thought was to get back to the Warren to warn them of what was about to happen. And finally she reached the light and burst out into the day, almost falling down the stairs and the waiting force of elves. She had barely even noticed the human following her and paid him little heed now. She had only just began to tell them what had happened when the tree began its dying throes. The elves ran in a panic, away from the tree with tears of grief in their eyes as they realised what was happening. She followed, walking back to the road slowly as she could not muster the energy to run anymore.
Back at the warrren, she entered the Sheriff's office. "Prepare the people for a possible evacuation. We may need to leave soon. Take in any elven refugees who come to us for aid." She calmly gave her orders. "Now I must go to the temple to pray for guidance". She went to the temple and prayed until her prayers were interupted by a large flash of light. She exited the temple to see a bright glow in the forest from the direction of the tree. And then the glow stopped and a sense of peace eminated from the forest.
Victory snatched from the jaws of defeat.
Current PCs:
NWN1: Soppi Widenbottle, High Priestess of Yondalla.
NWN2: Gruuhilda, Tree Hugging Half-Orc
NWN1: Soppi Widenbottle, High Priestess of Yondalla.
NWN2: Gruuhilda, Tree Hugging Half-Orc
-
dergon darkhelm
- Fionn In Disguise
- Posts: 4258
- Joined: Fri Jul 08, 2005 1:21 pm
- Location: Cleveland, Ohio, United States
The bodies were already piling high in the small town of Westbridge. Since the fall of night the onslaught of the mixed army of goblinoids and ogres and foul aberrations of unknown origin had come both from the North and East.
Malcer knew this small village well. The tabac shoppe that he had founded more than a year prior was one of the buildings on the outskirts of Westbridge that had already come under the goblin torches. He tried to push thoughts of what may have been lost in the fires out of his mind as he approached the gathering of men, and elves, and hin that made an impromptu council in the center of town during this lull in the fighting.
The white haired elf, Von'nes stood in the center of the group, forcefully speaking to the sundry militia hastily assembled and milling about in shock after taking heavy losses throughout the previous night. Malcer hesitantly approached Von’nes and the others. Earlier in the day, the elf wizard Maeve had not moved against him, but the white haired one was even more volatile and perhaps more dangerous.
Breaking off from berating a mounted militiaman, Von’nes strode toward Malcer. He tensed, his hand quickly moving for an elixir at his waist belt in case he needed a fast retreat.
“If I had wanted you dead …………” ………Von’nes didn’t need to finish the sentence. Malcer nodded slightly. “We move East now to strike at them.” Malcer again only nodded, at a loss for words. Mother Soppi stood off to his right, seemingly completely at peace despite the hundreds of corpses, both ally and foe, that filled the blood-muddied streets of Westbridge. He feared the small Halfling as well, although she had given him no direct reason to justify it.
Malcer wondered whether he would die this day…………and whether the blow would come from beast or ally.
____________________________________
Malcer Angalstrand looked up in wonder at the size of the great elven tree. He had heard the elf folk speak of it many a time, but he had never had any idea as to the scale of the thing. It’s base was as wide as many a small castle and it rose so far into the sky that one could not judge its height. Dark clouds swirled above the elf home, thick and malicious. The fear of the elf folk, was palpable. The elves would send two warriors along with them to aid in an assault against the subterrean dwellers that poisoned their homeland. He had never met these elves before, and they seemed to not understand or simply choose not to speak the common tongue. For not the first or the last time that day, Malcer wondered why he walked alongside these folk. Yet somehow he felt compelled to continue on into the darkness.
At least now Malcer had shadows to cover him. The cool depths and deep darkness were a place familiar and where he now found some degree of ease. Silently he descended, following the elves who occasionally conversed, but again in a tongue he could not understand. Rarely he looked to Soppi, who was relaxed in short strides, either seeming to know elven or not caring that she did not. Either way, Malcer felt the outsider in this dark hole. He studied the group that he followed…………he would not be aided if he fell, of that he was sure.
*thunk* A crossbow bolt landed next his foot, impaling itself on the wooden platform.
*thunk* *thunk* *Urgh**think* *thunk* *AHH*. Bolts were tearing by his head as elven screams of pain erupted. “Gray dwarves”, Soppi called out, as Malcer fumbled for the magical elixir to reveal their hidden forms, almost dropping the vial into the chasm as a bolt solidly his leg while he opened it.
Malcer sighted a gray on the opposite side of the chasm and ducked into the shadows, working his way around toward the creature to get a close shot. He was within 30 paces now. *click*…………Malcer was cursing his foolishness as the trap was set off. Flames enveloped him sent him flailing away in a panic. He could smell the scalding of his own flesh as he crawled to the corner and groped for healing potions. He looked about and saw no one. The sounds of battle trailed down the hall away from him. Limping, he set off toward the sound of battle.
By the time he caught up, the two elves from the tree were dead. He looked at their lifeless forms, hacked and burned and thought to himself that he had not spoken a single word to either. Von’nes was hastily rummaging her fallen kin for their potions. There would be no time to mourn it seemed.
Now just the three remained. Slowly moving forward through the underground complex, the trio knew they walked into the heart of a great power. The skirmishes from here remained a blur, Malcer trying merely to remain hidden from drow and duergar. Arrows piecing his flesh, flash traps burning his flesh. He quickly spent all of the potions he had carried with him. After shat could only have been a few minutes, the Halfling Soppi can hustling toward Malcer, in full retreat. “We can not prevail here.” She declared, and broke for the exit in a full, pursued by a gray dwarf wielding a fierce axe.
Malcer didn’t need any time to think. If Soppi Widenbottle fled, he fled. Von’nes was nowhere to be seen. Tight on the heels of the hin, he made his way to the platform, duergar snipers continuing to fire on them as they climbed out from the depths. Neither the priestess nor the merchant spoke as they ran.
Making the surface, the elf tree looked as if it would crumble at any moment. When it fell it would likely crush all close by. Malcer had only a few seconds to look back into the dark passage where Von’nes yet remained before he fled the area. No others would be coming to aid her. Her fate would be settled alone in the depths………………………..
Malcer knew this small village well. The tabac shoppe that he had founded more than a year prior was one of the buildings on the outskirts of Westbridge that had already come under the goblin torches. He tried to push thoughts of what may have been lost in the fires out of his mind as he approached the gathering of men, and elves, and hin that made an impromptu council in the center of town during this lull in the fighting.
The white haired elf, Von'nes stood in the center of the group, forcefully speaking to the sundry militia hastily assembled and milling about in shock after taking heavy losses throughout the previous night. Malcer hesitantly approached Von’nes and the others. Earlier in the day, the elf wizard Maeve had not moved against him, but the white haired one was even more volatile and perhaps more dangerous.
Breaking off from berating a mounted militiaman, Von’nes strode toward Malcer. He tensed, his hand quickly moving for an elixir at his waist belt in case he needed a fast retreat.
“If I had wanted you dead …………” ………Von’nes didn’t need to finish the sentence. Malcer nodded slightly. “We move East now to strike at them.” Malcer again only nodded, at a loss for words. Mother Soppi stood off to his right, seemingly completely at peace despite the hundreds of corpses, both ally and foe, that filled the blood-muddied streets of Westbridge. He feared the small Halfling as well, although she had given him no direct reason to justify it.
Malcer wondered whether he would die this day…………and whether the blow would come from beast or ally.
____________________________________
Malcer Angalstrand looked up in wonder at the size of the great elven tree. He had heard the elf folk speak of it many a time, but he had never had any idea as to the scale of the thing. It’s base was as wide as many a small castle and it rose so far into the sky that one could not judge its height. Dark clouds swirled above the elf home, thick and malicious. The fear of the elf folk, was palpable. The elves would send two warriors along with them to aid in an assault against the subterrean dwellers that poisoned their homeland. He had never met these elves before, and they seemed to not understand or simply choose not to speak the common tongue. For not the first or the last time that day, Malcer wondered why he walked alongside these folk. Yet somehow he felt compelled to continue on into the darkness.
At least now Malcer had shadows to cover him. The cool depths and deep darkness were a place familiar and where he now found some degree of ease. Silently he descended, following the elves who occasionally conversed, but again in a tongue he could not understand. Rarely he looked to Soppi, who was relaxed in short strides, either seeming to know elven or not caring that she did not. Either way, Malcer felt the outsider in this dark hole. He studied the group that he followed…………he would not be aided if he fell, of that he was sure.
*thunk* A crossbow bolt landed next his foot, impaling itself on the wooden platform.
*thunk* *thunk* *Urgh**think* *thunk* *AHH*. Bolts were tearing by his head as elven screams of pain erupted. “Gray dwarves”, Soppi called out, as Malcer fumbled for the magical elixir to reveal their hidden forms, almost dropping the vial into the chasm as a bolt solidly his leg while he opened it.
Malcer sighted a gray on the opposite side of the chasm and ducked into the shadows, working his way around toward the creature to get a close shot. He was within 30 paces now. *click*…………Malcer was cursing his foolishness as the trap was set off. Flames enveloped him sent him flailing away in a panic. He could smell the scalding of his own flesh as he crawled to the corner and groped for healing potions. He looked about and saw no one. The sounds of battle trailed down the hall away from him. Limping, he set off toward the sound of battle.
By the time he caught up, the two elves from the tree were dead. He looked at their lifeless forms, hacked and burned and thought to himself that he had not spoken a single word to either. Von’nes was hastily rummaging her fallen kin for their potions. There would be no time to mourn it seemed.
Now just the three remained. Slowly moving forward through the underground complex, the trio knew they walked into the heart of a great power. The skirmishes from here remained a blur, Malcer trying merely to remain hidden from drow and duergar. Arrows piecing his flesh, flash traps burning his flesh. He quickly spent all of the potions he had carried with him. After shat could only have been a few minutes, the Halfling Soppi can hustling toward Malcer, in full retreat. “We can not prevail here.” She declared, and broke for the exit in a full, pursued by a gray dwarf wielding a fierce axe.
Malcer didn’t need any time to think. If Soppi Widenbottle fled, he fled. Von’nes was nowhere to be seen. Tight on the heels of the hin, he made his way to the platform, duergar snipers continuing to fire on them as they climbed out from the depths. Neither the priestess nor the merchant spoke as they ran.
Making the surface, the elf tree looked as if it would crumble at any moment. When it fell it would likely crush all close by. Malcer had only a few seconds to look back into the dark passage where Von’nes yet remained before he fled the area. No others would be coming to aid her. Her fate would be settled alone in the depths………………………..
Last edited by dergon darkhelm on Mon Oct 09, 2006 7:42 pm, edited 2 times in total.
PCs: NWN1: Trailyn "Wayfarer" Krast, Nashkel hayseed
NWN2: ??
gsid: merado_1
NWN2: ??
gsid: merado_1
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Arkan Bladesinger
- Frost Giant
- Posts: 715
- Joined: Sun Jul 17, 2005 6:14 am
- Location: The Land of the Thousand Lakes GMT+2
-
Frostfather
- Kobold Footpad
- Posts: 25
- Joined: Sun Jun 27, 2004 3:54 pm
- Location: Gothenburg Sweden
The human's eyes bulged as Von'nes' mailed hand closed around his throat. With only the slightest of efforts, the moon elf lifted him off the ground.
'Your men will form up, commander. And when I say so, they will attack.' The human held her gaze for a second before nodding his submission. Von'nes had turned away before he hit the ground.
The ragged remnants of Westbridge's defenders moved out from the village, dwarf warriors and human militia already battle-weary and bloodied, their commander still gingerly feeling the soreness around his throat. Von stood some distance off, filtering Laurelin's ramblings in search of coherence. The human stood nearby, watching, every fibre in his body screaming fear. Battle sounded to the east; the assault Von had ordered had begun, and here her weak-witted kin still prattled nonsense.
To her left, the humans and dwarves advanced down the road. To her right, the trees stood dark and dense. The dark-clad human was some twenty paces in front of her, slipping from shadow to shadow. Trolls burst from the tree line but Von'nes was amongst them in an instant, ducking and weaving, using their numbers against them. Obstacles, to be removed.
Her blade stopped barely an inch from the runéd stone.
'So you know how to destroy it?' The halfling did not.
The vines snaked out, bridging the pit before them. The war party crossed, Von'nes and her Blades, with human and hin. The descent was long, and the welcome fierce: flames licked the stone walls of the duergar hold, hidden mages directing their magic at the company. Elvith fell, body wracked by fire and acid.
Axes around every corner, spikes under every step, fire flying from every direction, still she drove them on.
Sweat dripped from the human's brow as he stood and shook his head. Disarming the trap was beyond his ability. Von'nes could hear the movement of those waiting for them around the corner. Darkness descended, to be pierced only by eldritch flares and the screams of the dying. Von'nes fought with her eyes closed, the sound of her enemy a beacon for her blade. A colossal bear thundered past, crushing a horse-sized spider; balls of fire exploded off the walls, bursts of necromantic energy threw a nightmarish glimmer across the scene. Von withdrew her blade from the mage’s heart. Her kin were dead.
The last chamber: vast and echoing. Skulls heaped against the far wall, shadows flickering in infernal light, and a familiar figure walking towards her.
'Honoured Sister,' the drow smiled, 'We meet again.'
Von'nes attacked.
Her alter-ego was strong. Von'nes had fallen back to where the halfling and human battled the chamber's duergar sentries, and the priestess had duly expended the last of her healing spells. Every strike Von landed on the drow's armour sent a blast of numbing cold up her arm, while every blow her dark-skinned counterpart directed at her sheared through the mithral links of her enchanted chain mail. They had run out of potions, spells, support, and luck. Separated by the great pit in the centre of the room, the trio faced their foe. A whirl of the drow's frosted cloak sent a score of six-inch spikes flying across the void towards them; as Von'nes raised her hand, the hin and the human fled.
Von'nes limped towards the priestess, great rends torn in her armour, her shield arm hanging limp by her side. Vengeance in her hand, the moon elf faced her foe.
'For the souls you have trapped, the lives you have taken, and the destruction you have wrought…'
She had failed. The grey priestess had laughed as Von's blade had simply bounced off the aura surrounding her. Now her magic pinned the elf down as the final part of the ritual was begun. Faint whispers echoed around the pit that was Von'nes' mind as the ghostly form of the elven dead coalesced around her. All her training, her preparation, her magic, her skill, her life – it had not been enough. She had nothing left to give, and the priestess was unharmed, her casting unimpeded. The grey continued her ritual, oblivious to the growing clamour around Von'nes. Out of the cloud of voices, one started to grow in strength; clearer than the rest, it cut through the haze and confusion. There was one thing left to give.
'I will do my duty. I will take revenge.'
'Your men will form up, commander. And when I say so, they will attack.' The human held her gaze for a second before nodding his submission. Von'nes had turned away before he hit the ground.
The ragged remnants of Westbridge's defenders moved out from the village, dwarf warriors and human militia already battle-weary and bloodied, their commander still gingerly feeling the soreness around his throat. Von stood some distance off, filtering Laurelin's ramblings in search of coherence. The human stood nearby, watching, every fibre in his body screaming fear. Battle sounded to the east; the assault Von had ordered had begun, and here her weak-witted kin still prattled nonsense.
To her left, the humans and dwarves advanced down the road. To her right, the trees stood dark and dense. The dark-clad human was some twenty paces in front of her, slipping from shadow to shadow. Trolls burst from the tree line but Von'nes was amongst them in an instant, ducking and weaving, using their numbers against them. Obstacles, to be removed.
Her blade stopped barely an inch from the runéd stone.
'So you know how to destroy it?' The halfling did not.
The vines snaked out, bridging the pit before them. The war party crossed, Von'nes and her Blades, with human and hin. The descent was long, and the welcome fierce: flames licked the stone walls of the duergar hold, hidden mages directing their magic at the company. Elvith fell, body wracked by fire and acid.
Axes around every corner, spikes under every step, fire flying from every direction, still she drove them on.
Sweat dripped from the human's brow as he stood and shook his head. Disarming the trap was beyond his ability. Von'nes could hear the movement of those waiting for them around the corner. Darkness descended, to be pierced only by eldritch flares and the screams of the dying. Von'nes fought with her eyes closed, the sound of her enemy a beacon for her blade. A colossal bear thundered past, crushing a horse-sized spider; balls of fire exploded off the walls, bursts of necromantic energy threw a nightmarish glimmer across the scene. Von withdrew her blade from the mage’s heart. Her kin were dead.
The last chamber: vast and echoing. Skulls heaped against the far wall, shadows flickering in infernal light, and a familiar figure walking towards her.
'Honoured Sister,' the drow smiled, 'We meet again.'
Von'nes attacked.
Her alter-ego was strong. Von'nes had fallen back to where the halfling and human battled the chamber's duergar sentries, and the priestess had duly expended the last of her healing spells. Every strike Von landed on the drow's armour sent a blast of numbing cold up her arm, while every blow her dark-skinned counterpart directed at her sheared through the mithral links of her enchanted chain mail. They had run out of potions, spells, support, and luck. Separated by the great pit in the centre of the room, the trio faced their foe. A whirl of the drow's frosted cloak sent a score of six-inch spikes flying across the void towards them; as Von'nes raised her hand, the hin and the human fled.
Von'nes limped towards the priestess, great rends torn in her armour, her shield arm hanging limp by her side. Vengeance in her hand, the moon elf faced her foe.
'For the souls you have trapped, the lives you have taken, and the destruction you have wrought…'
She had failed. The grey priestess had laughed as Von's blade had simply bounced off the aura surrounding her. Now her magic pinned the elf down as the final part of the ritual was begun. Faint whispers echoed around the pit that was Von'nes' mind as the ghostly form of the elven dead coalesced around her. All her training, her preparation, her magic, her skill, her life – it had not been enough. She had nothing left to give, and the priestess was unharmed, her casting unimpeded. The grey continued her ritual, oblivious to the growing clamour around Von'nes. Out of the cloud of voices, one started to grow in strength; clearer than the rest, it cut through the haze and confusion. There was one thing left to give.
'I will do my duty. I will take revenge.'
-
darrenhfx
- Beholder
- Posts: 1982
- Joined: Fri Jul 30, 2004 5:35 pm
- Location: Halifax, Canada GMT -4 (AST)
Elessar had been a Rillifane Ranger for near 75 years now and had never in all his many years of struggle and adventure experienced this type of discomfort. He ached through to the very marrow of his bones and this pain intensified as each booming syllable of the gray dwarf priestess incantation was spoken. He dared not show this pain with so many concerned folk looking to him for guidance, as his mentor so often said The tree offers shelter regardless of the force of the gale. "And so shall I…". he whispered, completing the phrase.
With each word of power spoken, the consecrations which kept the tree protected slowly became overwhelmed. He could sense the conflict between the two forms of energy and the very air seemed to ripple. The reports of wailing spirits echoed through the limbs of the trees and the tension built ever higher blurring the senses, distorting the flow of time.
A young ranger appeared in his peripheral vision and Elessar wondered for a moment how long he had been waiting to be acknowledged. “Yes Feanaro… you have something to report?” he snapped off quickly. At just that moment, two figures appeared from the dark entrance and a dozen archers took aim.
It was the hin priestess and the human… Elessar waited for the others to emerge.
Noting the looks expressions on the faces of the two Elessar frowned and summoned the courage to ask… “The others…?” The hin shook her head and made her way across the chasm aided by several tel’quessir, the human following directly without a word.
A great crack briefly stunned all those gathered and the tree shook through to its very roots taking several folk from their feet. Fissures opened in the ground and a foul inky smoke seeped through.
Taking a last brief glance up the ranger ordered his scouts to gather. “Two groups, one towards Westbridge one towards the Hill, we will form up on the road, do not delay.” With that the scouts were off. Yelling to be heard over the cries and din. “The remainder who can bear arms form up with the wounded in the centre… we make our way westward.”
Covering the longest mile, Elessar moved stoically toward the Long Road trying to formulate a plan for his kin.
He stopped suddenly and looked up… silence.
The pain that had ached throughout his body… stopped, briefly making him unsteady.
He spun around quickly to look back… and she was there.
With each word of power spoken, the consecrations which kept the tree protected slowly became overwhelmed. He could sense the conflict between the two forms of energy and the very air seemed to ripple. The reports of wailing spirits echoed through the limbs of the trees and the tension built ever higher blurring the senses, distorting the flow of time.
A young ranger appeared in his peripheral vision and Elessar wondered for a moment how long he had been waiting to be acknowledged. “Yes Feanaro… you have something to report?” he snapped off quickly. At just that moment, two figures appeared from the dark entrance and a dozen archers took aim.
It was the hin priestess and the human… Elessar waited for the others to emerge.
Noting the looks expressions on the faces of the two Elessar frowned and summoned the courage to ask… “The others…?” The hin shook her head and made her way across the chasm aided by several tel’quessir, the human following directly without a word.
A great crack briefly stunned all those gathered and the tree shook through to its very roots taking several folk from their feet. Fissures opened in the ground and a foul inky smoke seeped through.
Taking a last brief glance up the ranger ordered his scouts to gather. “Two groups, one towards Westbridge one towards the Hill, we will form up on the road, do not delay.” With that the scouts were off. Yelling to be heard over the cries and din. “The remainder who can bear arms form up with the wounded in the centre… we make our way westward.”
Covering the longest mile, Elessar moved stoically toward the Long Road trying to formulate a plan for his kin.
He stopped suddenly and looked up… silence.
The pain that had ached throughout his body… stopped, briefly making him unsteady.
He spun around quickly to look back… and she was there.
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Arkan Bladesinger
- Frost Giant
- Posts: 715
- Joined: Sun Jul 17, 2005 6:14 am
- Location: The Land of the Thousand Lakes GMT+2
So, this is where it has come to. Centuries of decline, decay and rape of the lands that Tel´Quessir once called their own in the hands of the hairy barbarians and other lesser beings… And now in our darkest hour the help arrives in the form of a human and a hin! Certainly the gods play cruel jokes sometimes. I see the others are as displeased as I am, but the situation is dire…
A flicker of motion in the corner of his eye stopped Elvith´s thought.
She heads to the door. No, not yet. Even at this point we must hope! They escaped back then, but at what price? The Father´s mark guards the door. I can not let her do it... yet how sweet their voices sound and how tempting…
"Ethriel, not yet. Corellon put his mark for a reason."
"Erevan unlocked it for a reason", she says and I see the hidden mirth in her eyes.
"There is still hope in this world…"
She moves away, tentatively. She is younger. I wish it was as easy for me… I hear the call louder and louder, but I don´t see what she saw… Herd her towards the others, shut the voice…just do it! They must wait for a while longer for me.
She might be a future, yet another will be The Blade.
………
There was no more reason to talk. Only what had to be done. A descent deep to the ground where the filthy gray had for ages mined the soil from under the roots of the Great Tree, protected by their foul magics.
Dark, cold, flickering shadows, unholy words and burning agony. Then… a moment of blackness. Or eternity?
A sense of floating and a tug. Harsh tug.
No!
They linger beside me, sisters and brothers. But we all go towards...
Cold laughter and The Blade kneeling before the dark priestess.
But I see the roots…they come and the world trembles. She fades, I fade, the Foe screams.
Silence.
Light.
Leaflord?
(must add that this really was one of my ALFA highs as well as a DM)
A flicker of motion in the corner of his eye stopped Elvith´s thought.
She heads to the door. No, not yet. Even at this point we must hope! They escaped back then, but at what price? The Father´s mark guards the door. I can not let her do it... yet how sweet their voices sound and how tempting…
"Ethriel, not yet. Corellon put his mark for a reason."
"Erevan unlocked it for a reason", she says and I see the hidden mirth in her eyes.
"There is still hope in this world…"
She moves away, tentatively. She is younger. I wish it was as easy for me… I hear the call louder and louder, but I don´t see what she saw… Herd her towards the others, shut the voice…just do it! They must wait for a while longer for me.
She might be a future, yet another will be The Blade.
………
There was no more reason to talk. Only what had to be done. A descent deep to the ground where the filthy gray had for ages mined the soil from under the roots of the Great Tree, protected by their foul magics.
Dark, cold, flickering shadows, unholy words and burning agony. Then… a moment of blackness. Or eternity?
A sense of floating and a tug. Harsh tug.
No!
They linger beside me, sisters and brothers. But we all go towards...
Cold laughter and The Blade kneeling before the dark priestess.
But I see the roots…they come and the world trembles. She fades, I fade, the Foe screams.
Silence.
Light.
Leaflord?
(must add that this really was one of my ALFA highs as well as a DM)
NWN2: Devon Sangraile