A Land Far Away

He stopped, rubbing his arm as he sheathed the longsword to his side. His breath was labored...long had it been since he had good practice. Months on the road had made his back hard, but his swordarm soft. But he was here. And they were gone. He squinted, scanning the area slowly. No one was about this early in the morning. It was time. He stretched his arms behind his back, and made his way toward the abbey.

Nulen had always been an observer...quiet, amiable and of little opinion. Sembia had taught him well...he had stayed out of the populated areas and had spent most of his time in the needles of the forest. Eyes and ears always with them...they had a peculiar distaste for elves.

THen the calling came...the visions...the sick and hurt visions. Of need, of urgency, of people's blood flowing needlessly. He had tried to ignore them...but they came stronger every time, screams...the horrid screams of pain. Drink only made them more lucid.

They began to take over...speaking in his ear. It grew worse near the yards of the dead, mutterings on the wind, the speach rasping through his flesh to the bone. Whispers of lost love, of vengence, of fear. But the hearing was just the beginning.

He began to see them when he was alone in the forests, shadows moving through the trees. Shadows where there should be nothing. Of humans, of orckin, even the small ones...speaking of all that was left undone.

Insanity. Nulen had heard of it....but never considered the possibilities. Each day brought worse visions... till even the living flickered. One minute a smiling face, the next a skull, or a body slowly withering. Madness. Or something else. He began to see a symbol on those alive...on each forehead, bound hands.

He had left Sembia, hounded all the way by shadows and peircing shrieks. THrough the Dales of the Shadow. Plauged by ghosts, murmerings of life taken too soon. He shied away from people, detesting the inevitable sights of demise. Even the sun seem shadowed. But his feet moved...he was not sure where. But his feet moved nontheless.
Past halls of the dead...past ghosts of the dales, murmering of separations that run too deep in the heart...a shade crying for her bard love, another muttering about a deep path. His mind was slipping...shutting down.

They were gone. THe nearer he had come to this place, the less he saw of them, the less he heard, until nothing. He hiked up the steep hill and opened the door of the abbey. Stepping inside, he smiled slightly as his eyes saw the now familiar bound hands carved into the floor. He knew not why, but it was here he had been called. Here his work waited. As he waited for a sign.

THe shovel sank into the damp ground, as the rain poured around Nulen. THe rain was a blessing of sorts, the ground remained soft from the many days of rain. It was also a curse, making working uncomfortable, making it impossible for anyone to remain clean with all the mud. Nulen had given up trying to stay clean...it was a waisted effort. He was thankful for Elriens blessing and breif respite as the rain seemed to trickle off an invisible globe surrounding him.

Elrien. He had a distinct liking and respect for his half-sister, a nurturing, motherly spirit of the deep woods. SHe was pleasent to be around...and reminded him of his own mother. He had grinned at the antics of her children on Greenday...themselves shoots budding out of the ground and into life. He knew, no matter her lightheartedness, she was a woman with much on her shoulders. Nulen would help her with her burden as best he could...when the building was done.

Digging deeper, he glanced over and saw the tomcat he had fed the night before taking refuge under the small tree he had replanted. It had been in the way of the palisade...so he had moved it to the outside of the wall being built, far enough away not to present an avenue over the wall when it grew older. The cat. It seemed to steer clear of the humans...but had now taken to eating from Nulen's hand. THis came as no surprise to him...he had always had an affection for cats, and it seemed they also held an affection for him. In fact, one of the few things he did miss of Sembia was the small cadre of cats he had befriended. Most of them had chosen to steer well clear of Selguants dimly lit streets and had instead made a home in the wilderness, much like himself. He found it pleasing that here, in Cormyr, cats were held in high esteem, in fact the killing of a cat was a serious offense. THe Tomcat gazed in his direction, a slight smile upon it's face, despite the rain.

THe man next to him grunted as he pulled a stone from the trench. He enjoyed his time here, being the only of his kind...the humans here were much different than in Sembia. Oh, there might be a slight smirk, or a whisper here and there...but that was a far cry from the abuses he had suffered by Sembians. He got along well with all of the humans here in the camp, and after many days of toiling, he found he had a certain respect for them. He still wondered slightly if his helping here, not just in the building of the mission, but also of the education he provided to these humans of his own kind, would have any positive effects. He knew he had to try...many of his kind had failed trying to show humans the elven way, but he had to try. Another reason he liked Elrien, she understood. Most of his kind would see his actions as fruitless, and in vain...he could not support that mindset...that cynicism would surely bear bitter fruit.

Nulen did understand the mindset of those like Valdur. Valdur, a cousin...a brother. He understood that Valdur was years older...and that Valdur also understood what had been lost. He admired Valdur...he sought truth. It was a good thing to know the past...how much had been taken. It was how this information was used that mattered. Perhaps a time would come again, where the great builders would return in number, to build more miracles as Silverymoon and Drannor.

He laid the shovel down, and helped a few of the men with a rope, uprighting another peice of the palisade wall within the trench he was digging. Perhaps a way could be found...for respect of each races needs and wants. His prayers were with those who would further the forging the bond between man and elf...not to assimilate, but to merely understand one another. The wall came slowly, but finally uprighted itself. THe man next to him wiped his brow, looked over and smiled to Nulen. He smiled back. He had to believe above all, that one spirit could make the difference. He had to believe, lest all there was became like Sembia. He grabbed his shovel, and went back to work...not just building a mission to Chauntea, but building a bridge between two worlds. And as he built one wall, another seemed to be slowly crumbling.

I like this. Very descriptive and enjoyable to read. Hope to see more!

As he placed another log onto the campfire, dancing embers shot their way into the sky, like the fey of the forest. It was dark, and the humans had all gone to their tents. Nulen heard Thomas's snores echo through the site, and he smiled. Thomas, a farmer, and a good-natured man. He was jovial, a slight twinkle in his eyes. His wife, Murum, was also here, cooking and cleaning and washing for the workers. She was more demure that Thomas, but still a very happy being. The sparks dissappeared into the sky, but movement beyond the red glow of the fire caught his eye. Feln, the wild cat who had taken up coming to the site, stalked below the wagon...his eyes shining when he turned his head to the fire.

Much had been done here... the palisade mostly completed, the work on the building beginning. Ramps to the palisade for defense...a water tower, an open storage area with a roof, a fenced in area for future animals. Nulen had learned an extraordinary amount about the working of wood. He sat by the fire, carving a wooden cat with a knife. It was peaceful, skulpting wood...he hoped soon he would see firsthand how to build doorways and doors, and maybe even some elaborate furniture...the making of cabinets and drawers intrigued him. His mind wandered to the orphans of Eveningstar....to be able to help make them a home would be....peaceful. To see the smiling faces of those that had lost so much, would mean a lot to Nulen....A sense of...pride, accomplishment maybe. He sighed, looking back to the fire.

I think this is very good Daniel-san.

Nulen gazed at the immensive walls and gates, and visably shuddered. The Purple Dragon contingent of guard at the East Gate stood solomnly, passing words back and forth. Nulen ducked his head, avoiding eye contact with them....and slowly trudged through the expanse that was East Gate...into the city.

Memories flooded of Selguant, of the guard dressed in black....the guard...he laid face down in the mud and rain, as the guards in black mercilessly kicked him...for his blood. His chest caved, as ribs creaked, then painfully snapped beneath their iron boots. His head spun, he passed out...all was dark.

All was dark. He gazed around the street of Arabel warily...he hated these places. Always, forever....he trudged along, his half plate throwing dim reflections in the lanternlight of the street. Head down, always...but eyes roaming from side to side, ears intent on catching the slightest noise of movement. He began to wonder if this was a good idea....

Weeks before, he had taken some free time away from his woodworking at the mission to explore the road east. The mission was expanding, the stonemasons already come to dig and lay the foundation of the small temple. Most of the work Nulen busied himself with now was in preparation of the mason's finished job.

He gaited along, in his plainclothes, eyeing the many frogs gathered around the ponds. Miles down the sunny road lay a sight he had not expected...high upon the hills lay an old ruin. It appeared to be of a fortification of some sort, long abandoned and falling into decay and rubble. It was then that the idea had struck him.

It was then that brought him to the city...the walls closing in tighter and tighter on him, making him feel like he couldn't breathe...like the ache of breathe that had accompanied his "lesson" in Selgaunt. If only he could find documentation to who owned the lands the ruins were settled on, perhaps he could save the masons some time, and the mission some coin.

He eyed the night sky warily...but as dawn began to break, and people began to emerge from their dwellings, Nulen began to smile slightly. "Perhaps, just perhaps, not every city is Selguant after all" he thought, gazing at the enormous tree and the benches that had been placed around it. His slight smile turned into a full grin as a passerby wished him a good morning. Perhaps the people inside these walls were much like those on the outside of them, friendly and peaceable. As a Purple Dragon passed and nodded, he sighed, relieved....perhaps this was not such a bad idea after all.

Nicely written Daniel, I hope I can learn some of this from Nulen IC.

Keep up the good work

He lay, staring at the ceiling, thoughts, emotions swirling in his head. He sighed.

Nulen was lost. Not physically, well, maybe not...he thought he could find his way back to the mission from here. Lost in a more complex sense...

Not for the first time, he wondered why he had been called here by the human god Ilmater...why he had been summoned to this land of law and peacefullness...

THe ArchDruid Voran's words rang in his ears...was he wrong in helping the humans? By reaching out a peaceful hand, had he dealt, inadvertantly, a blow to someone else. Someone closer to his heart, those of his blood who were, at this moment, struggling in Sembia? It seemed, more and more, everything he said and did, from the young albino Persephone to the building of the mission with Sembian lumber, turned to bitter ash in his mouth. He had helped....no one really. Every attempt turned wrong....save for the wild animals he had helped save. BUt animals were not his reason for being here...he had saved many cats in Sembia.

Was he, in fact, cursed...not only to need to help...but have the help he gave be of little good? A tear ran down, as he struggled inside in an effort to seek answers...and finding none.

Nulen's eyes searched southward from the crude parapet of the mission...

THe nights had slowly begun to cool...the leaves giving tell-tail signs of falling...He wrapped his cloak about him tightly, eying the horizon.

His thoughts drifted slowly...to the one who had givin him the cloak.
Temsicon...he grimaced slightly, putting himself in the half-man's shoes...life could not be easy for a half dragon...especially one whos parantage was of the red blood.

The blood of their meeting...the first true test of his own blade. Outnumbered eight to two, with flames on the enemies blade...he had still managed to best his half of them...easily. Temsicon...a furry of claws, breathing flame....A bloody day for that cult.

Nulen sighed...then scanned the skies. Temsicon had not left a message here...Nulen hoped that he'd not run into any more of the cult with flaming blades...

He turned slowly, eyeing the east...toward the ruins...

THe ghosts had returned...the visions...though only in that one place. Neither did these spirits demand or bemoan their circumstances...they had died valiantly against the orc horde fulfilling an obligation...
Kriss, the young explorer, Bran and Kell, the hardened warriors...He pondered over the power of the object they protected....were still protecting....He hoped he could put them to rest. Perhaps the answer lay with Aline....

His eyes swept downward for a moment....to the chain he wore...and his mind raced onward to think on Persephone....he should visit Eveningstar again soon...perhaps check to see if more of the large goblins had taken up residence north of the town...

THought stopped as movement in the dark caught his eye...and then began again as the rabbit hopped onward.

He looked toward the mission...soon...and it will be time to move.

Good read, Dan-o... jeez, I wish I could do something like that with my PC... maybe I will.... something Epic... or at least influential.

Nulen's azure eyes opened wide...as wide as they'd opened for a long time. His arm entwined in Aline's, both holding the small, black onyx knight from the lance board set, he uttered "For honor, I demand admittance". No longer had they both uttered the words, she including the bloodline, the light had appeared...first a tiny spot, then growing to finally overwhelm them.

When the light faded and sight returned, he stood, arm still entwined, with Aline. For that breif space in between, he had thought he felt her heartbeat...thought he heard her thoughts. Now they stood in a small room, ancient in it's adornment. Nulen's eyes swept through the room, eager to find danger, his hand tightly gripped on the pommel of his longsword. The grip eased, relaxed, and he slowly let go....no danger.

He eyed the ancient desk on his left...papers scattered at the base. He knealt, examining the records of supplies...weapons, food...clothing..rope....he furrowed his brow slightly.

Looking up, his eyes met the desk. Slowly standing, his eyes rest upon ink, and what appeared to be a writing device...but as he touched it, the device crumbled into smaller peices and dust. He then caught sight of something shiny....coins. Coins unlike anything he had seen previously...
"That's curious....Aline, look at these." Turning, he saw Aline inspecting a bed on the far wall. She walked over briskly, peering over his shoulder. "Coins, but nothing I have seen before." Aline stood a moment, then pointed, replying "There, the symbol of Cormyr...at least, part of it...". Nulen nodded to himself. "They must be old....". ALine walked away, glancing at the fountain in the middle of the room.

Nulen's focus went to the bookcases. Ancient...beyond ancient...yellow with time, crumbling... one of the cases had fallen in on itself under the weight of books and passed age...the books nothing but tatters and dust. He eyes the intact case...indeed, an old archive of books. A treasure trove, to the right people. He nimbly pulled a book off, some of it crumbling away under his grasp. He sighed, gently setting the book down...they would have to remain here. He shook his head sadly at the collapsed case, wondering what valuable information had been lost.

His gaze swept to the center of the room, where the fountain lay. Aline was glancing at a bottle on a table. Looking into the water he heard Aline say "An old vintage, a very good year." He furrowed his brow, looking into the fountain, then dipped his finger in and tasted. ALine looked over, concerned. "Are you well? Sick?" Nulen shook his head. "It is..water, nothing more...but look!" Nulen pointed down at the bottom of the fountain. "A bottle...it appears the water flows...from the bottle?" Aline muttered "Impossible." The word magic was on Nulen's tongue, but he slid it away. Coming around the table, Nulen's eyes caught site of more bottles, like the one on the table. "Look, more." Aline nodded. Nulen's eyes went to the crates around the room...one by one he opened them, eyeing their contents judiciously.

"What is this place?" Aline asked. "I...think a sanctuary....somewhere to go in bad times" Nulen replied. Aline looked over thoughtfully... "It seems to big for one person...". Nulen nodded, rifling through old cloths, turning to bare threads. "Perhaps the Sword Heralds?". He continued to go through the contents eyeing old weaponry, half decayed food, though it had the evidence of having been preserved. He pulled out a few stones, and an irredescent yellow gem, and layed them on the floor. Aline looked around the room. Nulen grinned. "Look, your birthright" he said, pointing to the stones on the floor.

She frowned slightly, picking up the stones. "I...do not feel such...I have my own home, my own family now...". Nulen nodded slowly, picking out the herbal kits he had found in the crates. "May I? I might have need of them later...". Aline smiled, then nodded. "Of coarse". Nulen attached the herb pouches to his belt with spare leather thongs hanging from his pack. He looked over at Aline when she gasped...she stood in front of one of three chests near the bed. "Come and see!" she said quietly but urgently. He strood over and looked..and saw a small sheild with gold and silver inlay. He slowly removed the sheild, taking a long look at the face, and the small ruins, on it's face. The word Burmenthol was distinctly and finely etched above the sigil. He nodded slowly...a house shield...possibly a noble family. His eye was caught by the small red thread that wrapped around the sheild...turning it over, he discovered a thick parchment, folded tightly and waxed. Opening it, his eyes grew wide, and he began to chuckle. "Birthright indeed." Aline peered curiously... "What is it?" "Look for yourself....it is the deed." Alines eyes widened slightly. "To...to the manor?" Nulen nodded. She took the papers, beggining to read. "Not only the manor," She said, eyes growing wider "but...perhaps a mile or more around it as well....". Nulen grinned at her fortune. He looked back to the other two chests, wondering what other fortunes this woman had unknowingly aquired. Opening the first, he found nothing, merely dust marks where items had set at one time. He nodded to himself, then shuffled, squating, to the other. He opened it, and grunted in surprise. A dim light shone out from the chest, casting shadows on something curved. He reached in...and pulled out the most beautifully made horn he had ever seen. This wasn't saying much, as he had seen few, but still...the copper and hornbone inlay was beautifully crafted. Looking closer, he saw that the horn was also carved with scenes of the hunt...a man on horseback with wolves and foxes gathered around him, charging toward a herd of deer... and elf, arrow drawn to his ear, aiming at rabbit...a falcon perched atop a squirrell, a falconer nearby...his heart lept.

Looking back in, his heart came further up his throat, as he reached in and pulled out the source of the dim glow...a longsword. Plain, except for the inscription on the blade, which read "Heart's Edge". As he held it, a feeling of calm swept over him...the feeling he had when relaxing by his favorite waterfalls. He looked back to Aline...and she beemed a smile. "Yours, for your help." She looked down a moment. "I...do not...these are not mine. I have my own life now...a home, a family." She slowly handed Nulen the deed. "Give it to the mission." Nulen nodded slowly. "I understand." He looked at his new posessions in awe. "Are you sure?" Aline nodded, a look of peace within her eyes. Nulen unstrapped his longsword slowly, wrapping it up in his rain cloak and placing it in his pack, the hilt sticking out. He then sheathed Heart's Edge in his scabbard, and hung the horn around his neck. He attached the small sheild to his belt firmly with another leather thong. He looked to ALine, she was inspecting the books. "Tell them the deed is theirs, on condition. They must come..and repair the books...rewrite if necessary." Nulen nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "I would like that" Nulen said. "Let us go then...". Aline proceeded through the light at the back of the room, and Nulen followed.

Glancing back as the light faded, Nulen saw something...again. No spirits this time....as the light faded, an image of two hands bound with red cord appeared in the light....at the tip of one of the fingers, a star shone brightly in the sky. To the north. Nulen nodded to himself, then looked to Aline.

"I will be going north, I think." Aline nodded, looking at the ruins they now stood in...the same ruins the deed encompased. "I shall return, to see how your family is." She nodded, and without a word, left...for home.

Nulen slowly walked to the mission, the new property making him feel...disjointed. He would have to rid himself of his old belongings...he did not relish the thought, for they had served him well. He thought he would keep the lion sheild given to him by the pink haired Millia, to give to another.

He handed the deed to Penryn with a grin on his face. Penryn looked with furrowed brow a moment. "What is this?" "The rock I promised for the mission...the deed to the ruins east of here. On two conditions...the donor wishes books found...near..the ruins, be repaired...they are in a state of ancientness. Also, that she be able to come onto this land whenever she pleases, not to live, but to look.

Later, Nulen gathered his belongings, looking north. He had not seen the mission fully built....but he would be back. Most of the carpenters had already moved on to other jobs...it was the masoners turns to work. He had secured the stone needed...for free, and had changed the source of lumber...Sembian wood would no longer be used here. He strapped his carpentry tools on. Looking down from the guard tower, he watched a moment as the workmen went about their business. He had left a note with Merris for Elrien...there was no one else to be told of his leaving. He smiled slightly...this place would always feel home...he would return. He eyed the woodline again, sighed slowly, and began his long trek north.

Officially dead, zapped by an electric trap.

Played - 7 months

Sorry to hear Dan-o, when you are ready for some other creative outlets let me know. Was looking forward to playing with your PC, ah well. Are you going to type up a story of his end perhaps?

- Nate