From atop the tower Agrim looked down upon his fort. Well, not his in truth, it belonged to the council of the free towns, and before that the Wayfarers. Still, he had come to think of it as his own, after all, did he not have control over all who were within? More or less…he did. It was bizarre circumstances which had brought him here, to the countryside, where men with talent were in such demand. Yes, bizarre, and not at all pleasant.
His mind inevitably turned to the books, as it was wont to do.
Damn them.
………and praise them.
Agrim sighed, and turned his attention back to the men training below, and then to the east through the tree tops then the horizon, where the iron ford bridge lay. The rest of his command were there. Folk of the free towns, perhaps sixty in number, a dozen or so soldiers from each of the free towns. Soldiers of Triboar, Westbridge, Red Larch, and the Bargewrite inn. Dwarvern warriors and sappers from Guswin. And the green clad warriors and priests from Goldenfields. Brave men all, and with a slight smile Agrim thought, weak men to put themselves in such a vulnerable position.
The books, the books, his mind pulsed. Agrim frowned. Everyday they took more of his attention distracting him from the tasks at hand. Perhaps it was time he dug them up again, to lovingly touch their binding, and devour the words within, to dream of the power he could unleash with but a few words… and remember all he had lost because of them.
His career in the Waterdeep watch, his reputation in the city, his engagement, all the effort and time he had put into making a future for himself. All gone, due to the books. Agrim concentrated again and tried to focus his mind as to the relationship between the books and himself. He controlled them… not the other way around. That must be true. Despite what others thought, he had traded all he had earnt so far in Waterdeep for the books.
Yes… his mind pulsed the affirmative and Agrim relaxed slightly. For the briefest of moments he wondered why he had such thoughts, but that thought itself faded, and was replaced by a slight numbness as he planned for the future, a future carved from these lands, and perhaps even Waterdeep itself, a future carved for himself, and the books. Yes, the books must be there. Offcourse they must.
The fugitive.
The fugitive.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Prologue.
The hooves of the horse clattered on the cobbles or the north gate as it sped out past the confused shouts of the Gate guards, and the single black clad Magister. North!, then west as well, Agrim turned the head of the horse with a savage tug on the reins. He almost unbalanced in the process, he was no rider, that much was certain, and the books in his backpack unbalanced him something terrible. As the horizon shifted and bounced, Agrims green and yellow clad arms came into view and out again just as quickly, watch colors coming in and out of vision. Apropriate perhaps for what he was risking he thought. Then thought no longer as he gained the hill where the first book had been discovered.
He tumbled from the horse, almost falling in his haste to get off and read the books again. The horse nickered but remained nearby, as the sun faded, and Agrim extracted what he could from the dark pages.
…power!
These books had it, and more, a means to make himself famous within the city. If only they could be kept from the hands of his overzealous captain. He would see them destroyed by the books very nature. His mind was weak! He could not control the books like Agrim could!, he could not use them like Agrim could!, he could not see the potential, and Agrim would not share them with such a simpleton.
The light faded and Agrim cursed, and the words of power dimmed and became one with the dusk, he must hurry to return to the city, afore he was discovered. There would be questions asked, difficult questions, but surely he could stay on top of the matter, yes, how could he not.
And he had to be careful, he was not the only one, who coveted the books… and their contents. There were others, weak willed beings who the books called to! Never would Agrim let them take the books from him, they were to important to his plans. They could not control the books like Agrim did, nor would he give them a chance. Agrim mouthed a word of power and the horse staggered a moment before righting itself, its eyes rolling in terror as it felt the barest touch of the powers of the books.
Perfect.
Agrim buried the books in his backpack, digging with his shield, and hands in the soft dirt. They would be safe enough here until he moved them again.
Mounting his horse, and with a vital new energy Agrim galloped back to the city, confident that the books would aid him in his goals, to aid the city, and ultimately, himself.
The hooves of the horse clattered on the cobbles or the north gate as it sped out past the confused shouts of the Gate guards, and the single black clad Magister. North!, then west as well, Agrim turned the head of the horse with a savage tug on the reins. He almost unbalanced in the process, he was no rider, that much was certain, and the books in his backpack unbalanced him something terrible. As the horizon shifted and bounced, Agrims green and yellow clad arms came into view and out again just as quickly, watch colors coming in and out of vision. Apropriate perhaps for what he was risking he thought. Then thought no longer as he gained the hill where the first book had been discovered.
He tumbled from the horse, almost falling in his haste to get off and read the books again. The horse nickered but remained nearby, as the sun faded, and Agrim extracted what he could from the dark pages.
…power!
These books had it, and more, a means to make himself famous within the city. If only they could be kept from the hands of his overzealous captain. He would see them destroyed by the books very nature. His mind was weak! He could not control the books like Agrim could!, he could not use them like Agrim could!, he could not see the potential, and Agrim would not share them with such a simpleton.
The light faded and Agrim cursed, and the words of power dimmed and became one with the dusk, he must hurry to return to the city, afore he was discovered. There would be questions asked, difficult questions, but surely he could stay on top of the matter, yes, how could he not.
And he had to be careful, he was not the only one, who coveted the books… and their contents. There were others, weak willed beings who the books called to! Never would Agrim let them take the books from him, they were to important to his plans. They could not control the books like Agrim did, nor would he give them a chance. Agrim mouthed a word of power and the horse staggered a moment before righting itself, its eyes rolling in terror as it felt the barest touch of the powers of the books.
Perfect.
Agrim buried the books in his backpack, digging with his shield, and hands in the soft dirt. They would be safe enough here until he moved them again.
Mounting his horse, and with a vital new energy Agrim galloped back to the city, confident that the books would aid him in his goals, to aid the city, and ultimately, himself.
Last edited by Rumple C on Wed Jun 08, 2005 1:56 am, edited 1 time in total.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Prologue part 2
Where are the books Agrim?
Destroyed sir, burnt up like the embers of yesteryear.
Agrim, I know the books cannot be destroyed like that, I will ask you again, where are they?
…safe sir, removed from the city when the wards failed. I could not risk anyone else falling victime to them, and the temples have been unwilling to help thus far
They must be warded Agrim, or destroyed, now where are they?
…the south gate sir, outside lies a small outpost of caravans, there is a shack on the ridge, buried under it are the books.
Thankyou Agrim
Offcourse sir.
…
*hisses* I will be in contact
…
Return these to Captain Carion, with this message, Agrim Wesskur can no longer serve the city in the manner pescribed by the watch, he will continuee to do so in other ways. My deepest apologies and respect. Take that message and go.
…
Yes, remove this tunic from my armor, the colors are no longer appropriate, blue and red for now I think, yes that will be fine.
…
You have cost me much today, I trust you will be worth it books.
Where are the books Agrim?
Destroyed sir, burnt up like the embers of yesteryear.
Agrim, I know the books cannot be destroyed like that, I will ask you again, where are they?
…safe sir, removed from the city when the wards failed. I could not risk anyone else falling victime to them, and the temples have been unwilling to help thus far
They must be warded Agrim, or destroyed, now where are they?
…the south gate sir, outside lies a small outpost of caravans, there is a shack on the ridge, buried under it are the books.
Thankyou Agrim
Offcourse sir.
…
*hisses* I will be in contact
…
Return these to Captain Carion, with this message, Agrim Wesskur can no longer serve the city in the manner pescribed by the watch, he will continuee to do so in other ways. My deepest apologies and respect. Take that message and go.
…
Yes, remove this tunic from my armor, the colors are no longer appropriate, blue and red for now I think, yes that will be fine.
…
You have cost me much today, I trust you will be worth it books.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Prologue Part 3
Agrim peered into the blackness, hopefuly it was empty, warm and dry would be wonderful as well, but Agrim was realistic enough not to count on that.
What had he become? Drinking from puddled water, his once shining mithral armor muddied and disgraced by its surrounds. Who here would appreaciate its magnificence or that of Agrim? The orcs and wild animals certainly did not.
Still, he must be safe should people come looking for him, or the books rather. He stepped into the cave, slim rapier held out in front of him, a small buckler buckled to his left arm. This rapier chimed against the rock wall in front of him. He scraped it left then right, finding the true nature of the cave. It was small, but good enough for his purposes.
He wiped his rapier on the tunic covering his armor. With a frown he recalled how he would never have done that in the city. Truly he had fallen far.
On his hands and knees, Agrim crawled outside into the dusk, and drank from the puddled water, for the briefest of moments hating himself.
Agrim peered into the blackness, hopefuly it was empty, warm and dry would be wonderful as well, but Agrim was realistic enough not to count on that.
What had he become? Drinking from puddled water, his once shining mithral armor muddied and disgraced by its surrounds. Who here would appreaciate its magnificence or that of Agrim? The orcs and wild animals certainly did not.
Still, he must be safe should people come looking for him, or the books rather. He stepped into the cave, slim rapier held out in front of him, a small buckler buckled to his left arm. This rapier chimed against the rock wall in front of him. He scraped it left then right, finding the true nature of the cave. It was small, but good enough for his purposes.
He wiped his rapier on the tunic covering his armor. With a frown he recalled how he would never have done that in the city. Truly he had fallen far.
On his hands and knees, Agrim crawled outside into the dusk, and drank from the puddled water, for the briefest of moments hating himself.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Prologue part 4
His fortunes were reversing it would seem, at least here in this backwater fort. Agrim surveyed the luminaries arrayed around the ruined table. But a few of them he knew by face, but all he new by import. The leaders of the region, more or less. Representatives and leaders from Goldenfields, Triboar, Westbridge, Red Larch, the druids, the rangers, and the dwarf named Gundrin from Bargewrite inn. He seemed to have some kind of standing within the group, so it was to he that Agrim concentrated his not inconsiderable attention upon.
Also in the room with Agrim, but unnatached to him, was a somewhat haughty and arrogant elf who seemed to lack passion for anything including himself, and a hin who Agrim had tried briefly to educate upon proper protocol. They were of no consequence. Either to impotent, or to young to make an impression. Unlike Agrim who reveled in situations like these.
Truly, he was born for this.
Verbal cut and thrust, rhetoric, diplomacy, negotiation, semantics. He was in his element here, and it showed.
Swiftly he had arranged for himself to become custodian of the fort. He would oversee its restoration, and establish it once again, as a power base within the region. All to soon he would lead this council, not that they knew it yet. Agrim smiled slightly to himself, as the figures left the room one by one. How easy they were to manipulate.
His fortunes were reversing it would seem, at least here in this backwater fort. Agrim surveyed the luminaries arrayed around the ruined table. But a few of them he knew by face, but all he new by import. The leaders of the region, more or less. Representatives and leaders from Goldenfields, Triboar, Westbridge, Red Larch, the druids, the rangers, and the dwarf named Gundrin from Bargewrite inn. He seemed to have some kind of standing within the group, so it was to he that Agrim concentrated his not inconsiderable attention upon.
Also in the room with Agrim, but unnatached to him, was a somewhat haughty and arrogant elf who seemed to lack passion for anything including himself, and a hin who Agrim had tried briefly to educate upon proper protocol. They were of no consequence. Either to impotent, or to young to make an impression. Unlike Agrim who reveled in situations like these.
Truly, he was born for this.
Verbal cut and thrust, rhetoric, diplomacy, negotiation, semantics. He was in his element here, and it showed.
Swiftly he had arranged for himself to become custodian of the fort. He would oversee its restoration, and establish it once again, as a power base within the region. All to soon he would lead this council, not that they knew it yet. Agrim smiled slightly to himself, as the figures left the room one by one. How easy they were to manipulate.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Prologe part 5
The last of his business within Waterdeep had been completed with but one exception. He would not venture there again until it was time to return in splendor, as a hero, not a wanted criminal.
It had become taxing indeed, having to drink a potion of invisibility every time he needed to venture within the city, and leave as well. His funds were dwindling, almost to the point of uselessness.
Damn you Waterdeep. Damn you for raising me, damn you for giving me such hope, and damn you for taking it away again. I will be back, but when I return it will be as a conqueror, I will not hide, I will be proud, and I will lord it over you common peasants who even now hunt for me. Oh yes, I will be back.
The last of his business within Waterdeep had been completed with but one exception. He would not venture there again until it was time to return in splendor, as a hero, not a wanted criminal.
It had become taxing indeed, having to drink a potion of invisibility every time he needed to venture within the city, and leave as well. His funds were dwindling, almost to the point of uselessness.
Damn you Waterdeep. Damn you for raising me, damn you for giving me such hope, and damn you for taking it away again. I will be back, but when I return it will be as a conqueror, I will not hide, I will be proud, and I will lord it over you common peasants who even now hunt for me. Oh yes, I will be back.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
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ayergo
- Penguin AKA Vile Sea Tiger
- Posts: 3518
- Joined: Sun Jan 11, 2004 8:50 pm
- Location: Germany (But frequent world travels)
you better be back punk! Reading this is a tease to playing with ya. Hope to catcha some time soon.
There's a place I like to hide
A doorway that I run through in the night
Relax child, you were there
But only didn't realize and you were scared
It's a place where you will learn
To face your fears, retrace the years
And ride the whims of your mind
A doorway that I run through in the night
Relax child, you were there
But only didn't realize and you were scared
It's a place where you will learn
To face your fears, retrace the years
And ride the whims of your mind
-
neoangelican
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 179
- Joined: Sun Oct 31, 2004 6:02 am
- Location: United States
Slim soft hands ran over Agrims shoulders, but he brushed them away with a weak motion. Wait on the bed. The hands and their owner retreated to the bed, sulking together.
Agrim closed his eyes and leant back against the rough grain of the wooden bath tub. His memory went back to the luxury of the best suite in the unicorns horn. Now there was a bath to be proud of. With a slight smirk he remembered the noble company he had shared it with upon one occasion.
Agrims eyes flicked open, as he started suddenly at a perhaps paranoid thought. No. All his belonging were there in the room within easy reach.
His mithral armor, gifted to him by Gaedon Von Tharin, former Captain, and presumably still magister of Waterdeep. Agrim had worked long and hard to build up a trust and rapore with the man. Likely all that work was wasted now.
His rapier, adamantine make, by the finest smiths in Waterdeep, workmanship suited to nobility.
With a frown Agrim serveyed the rest of his equipage. Bloodstained pouches carrying numerous empty potion bottles. Used as he fought through countless spiders. Why? Why indeed. Normally he was such a patient, calculating man, what had driven him to such destructive, useless behavior? certainly he had gained nothing, indeed, of the five tradebars he had started the morning with, only one remained. The rest expended, upon healing, and the protective magics he had employed.
Agrim lifted an arm still weakened from the spiders venom. Bring the robe here he commanded. The owner of the soft hands obliged, handing him a plain cotton robe, with eyes downcast. Agrim rose from the bath, multiple scars and puncture wounds still visible upon his thin frame. He allowed himself to be dressed.
Empty the contents of the bags onto the bed, then wash them. Agrim watched without comment as his orders were followed. He turned over the handful of gems, selecting out one of lower value and set it aside.
Colors winked back up at him.
A pretty handful to be sure, but only a few had any real value. Essentially all that lay on the bed was his life savings.
His last wand, taken from that damned woman in the sewers of Waterdeep. Almost expended. Less than a dozen potions in small containers. Barely enough to last Agrim through the cleansing of the Bugbear keeps if his suspicians were correct, and likely not even enough to do that.
Wipe down the rapier as well peasant.
He looked down at his own hands as they shook. From stress or a lingering effect of the poison? It did not matter he thought, as long as it was gone by the morning, then it would be time to lead again.
But how long could he lead for? Past actions with regards to the books seemed to follow him everywhere. He had difficult choices to make soon. Could he bear to flee again. and give up all he had earnt with his blood and coin? He looked down at his punctured legs, then towards the small pile of wealth on the bed. He was drained.
His body was, his purse was, and it felt like perhaps, his very being was. Did he have the energy in him to rebuid once more? Was there any point if those from Waterdeep would only seek him out again?
Would he risk killing again to keep his secrets safe? If needs be he would but he was tiring of this life.
Agrim picked up the gem, and turned it over in his hands. He flicked it towards his companion for the evening. It hit the smooth back and fell to the ground. You earn this with your discretion, now come here and please me
Agrim closed his eyes and leant back against the rough grain of the wooden bath tub. His memory went back to the luxury of the best suite in the unicorns horn. Now there was a bath to be proud of. With a slight smirk he remembered the noble company he had shared it with upon one occasion.
Agrims eyes flicked open, as he started suddenly at a perhaps paranoid thought. No. All his belonging were there in the room within easy reach.
His mithral armor, gifted to him by Gaedon Von Tharin, former Captain, and presumably still magister of Waterdeep. Agrim had worked long and hard to build up a trust and rapore with the man. Likely all that work was wasted now.
His rapier, adamantine make, by the finest smiths in Waterdeep, workmanship suited to nobility.
With a frown Agrim serveyed the rest of his equipage. Bloodstained pouches carrying numerous empty potion bottles. Used as he fought through countless spiders. Why? Why indeed. Normally he was such a patient, calculating man, what had driven him to such destructive, useless behavior? certainly he had gained nothing, indeed, of the five tradebars he had started the morning with, only one remained. The rest expended, upon healing, and the protective magics he had employed.
Agrim lifted an arm still weakened from the spiders venom. Bring the robe here he commanded. The owner of the soft hands obliged, handing him a plain cotton robe, with eyes downcast. Agrim rose from the bath, multiple scars and puncture wounds still visible upon his thin frame. He allowed himself to be dressed.
Empty the contents of the bags onto the bed, then wash them. Agrim watched without comment as his orders were followed. He turned over the handful of gems, selecting out one of lower value and set it aside.
Colors winked back up at him.
A pretty handful to be sure, but only a few had any real value. Essentially all that lay on the bed was his life savings.
His last wand, taken from that damned woman in the sewers of Waterdeep. Almost expended. Less than a dozen potions in small containers. Barely enough to last Agrim through the cleansing of the Bugbear keeps if his suspicians were correct, and likely not even enough to do that.
Wipe down the rapier as well peasant.
He looked down at his own hands as they shook. From stress or a lingering effect of the poison? It did not matter he thought, as long as it was gone by the morning, then it would be time to lead again.
But how long could he lead for? Past actions with regards to the books seemed to follow him everywhere. He had difficult choices to make soon. Could he bear to flee again. and give up all he had earnt with his blood and coin? He looked down at his punctured legs, then towards the small pile of wealth on the bed. He was drained.
His body was, his purse was, and it felt like perhaps, his very being was. Did he have the energy in him to rebuid once more? Was there any point if those from Waterdeep would only seek him out again?
Would he risk killing again to keep his secrets safe? If needs be he would but he was tiring of this life.
Agrim picked up the gem, and turned it over in his hands. He flicked it towards his companion for the evening. It hit the smooth back and fell to the ground. You earn this with your discretion, now come here and please me
12.August.2015: Never forget.
He had failed. Again. No longer was he in command of the forces of the free towns. The rope hung on front of him, beckoning.
How easy it would be.
It was always a dwarf wasnt it? Allways a damned dwarf. Cobalt, General Cobalt decided he would rather withdraw his dwarves from the region, than let a tribe of orcs be lossely aligned with the free town forces. Ignorant narrow sighted dwarves. It reminded Agrim of another dwarf he had known in Waterdeep. Truly he had yet to meet a civilised one. One who could think past their next ale, or dead orc.
Then not only had Agrim failed to lead the team of mercenaries he had assembled to victory over the bugbear infested forts, he had failed to even reach them. Three of the seven companions falling to bugbear weaponry, and some kind of fire magic.
The townsfolk ignorantly sneered at him, calling him orc lover, the dwarves refused to talk to him, and his own men talked behind his back.
Not only that, but his command would have been removed in any event once that ruthless little woman, told the council that her magic showed him to be evil. Offcourse he was. The books no doubt left some lingering aura on him. Damn her.
He eyed the noose. Grasping it with both hands he put his head into it. Tradebars shifted under his feet. It was amusing he thought, that his wealth from his time served as commander, would be the means of his death. Then he thought no more, as he stepped from the small pile and into oblivion.
How easy it would be.
It was always a dwarf wasnt it? Allways a damned dwarf. Cobalt, General Cobalt decided he would rather withdraw his dwarves from the region, than let a tribe of orcs be lossely aligned with the free town forces. Ignorant narrow sighted dwarves. It reminded Agrim of another dwarf he had known in Waterdeep. Truly he had yet to meet a civilised one. One who could think past their next ale, or dead orc.
Then not only had Agrim failed to lead the team of mercenaries he had assembled to victory over the bugbear infested forts, he had failed to even reach them. Three of the seven companions falling to bugbear weaponry, and some kind of fire magic.
The townsfolk ignorantly sneered at him, calling him orc lover, the dwarves refused to talk to him, and his own men talked behind his back.
Not only that, but his command would have been removed in any event once that ruthless little woman, told the council that her magic showed him to be evil. Offcourse he was. The books no doubt left some lingering aura on him. Damn her.
He eyed the noose. Grasping it with both hands he put his head into it. Tradebars shifted under his feet. It was amusing he thought, that his wealth from his time served as commander, would be the means of his death. Then he thought no more, as he stepped from the small pile and into oblivion.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
The rope creaked alarmingly as agrims weight pulled it downwards. Almost immedietly he began to choke, his neck failing to break under the weight of his thin frame.
His legs kicked flailing around desperatly trying to find purchase. A very calm part of his mind found amusement in the fact that he could not even kill himself properly.
His arms reached above him to the rope and were able to keep the weight of his almost crushed windpipe. He wheezed in what little air he was able to, but it wasnt enough.
Blackness began to win the battle over light.
He panicked.
"dromu" he wheezed. Magic missles spat from the wand still in its forearm holster. They crashed uselessly into the ceiling.
"dromu"Again the wand belched out a pair of missles. This time they crashed into Agrims own hand. He was to crazed with panic to notice.
"dromu, dromu, dromu" Blackness took him.
His legs kicked flailing around desperatly trying to find purchase. A very calm part of his mind found amusement in the fact that he could not even kill himself properly.
His arms reached above him to the rope and were able to keep the weight of his almost crushed windpipe. He wheezed in what little air he was able to, but it wasnt enough.
Blackness began to win the battle over light.
He panicked.
"dromu" he wheezed. Magic missles spat from the wand still in its forearm holster. They crashed uselessly into the ceiling.
"dromu"Again the wand belched out a pair of missles. This time they crashed into Agrims own hand. He was to crazed with panic to notice.
"dromu, dromu, dromu" Blackness took him.
Last edited by Rumple C on Sun Jun 12, 2005 10:46 am, edited 1 time in total.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
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Stormseeker
- Orc Champion
- Posts: 460
- Joined: Sat Jan 03, 2004 8:53 pm
- Location: horseshoe bend, arkansas-usa
- Contact:
