Lost Souls Story Thread

[Xandax]

The creature had vanished.

Xandax started to wonder what it did in these parts of the realm, it was not likely to separate from his owner …. Magus…. Xandax recalled the last encounters and his death. Xandax instantly moves his right arm and looked at it. It had seemed like a dream, but luckily Xandax could still separate the dream world from the real world … if indeed it was real and not vice versa.

Xandax picked up Ferox and span it around a little, it had lost none of its balance. He threw it in the air and watched it spin and then cought it at its hilt again. He had used Ferox so much that it was almost an extension of him now. He took it in his left hand and repeated the procedure.

Xandax wondered what to do now. Should he try to follow the creature or go to sleep again. Xandax opted to try and get some more sleep, he needed to get some rest, if only the nightmares would keep away.

He would see what was here in the morning.

[CM]

It had been a long year. Battle weary and longing for the feeling of family, Talwar was once again on his yearly pilgrimage to his hometown of Pedsgin. He had missed this pilgrimage in the past two years, for reasons he wishes his dead family would understand. He had saved a small child from a large tribe of bugbears and retuned him to his family two days later. That had happened two years ago on the eve of his pilgrimage. The last year he had been on his deathbed after an assassination attempt on his life for committing an act which angered the Pasha of the region. He had survived that encounter within an inch of his life, but now he was stronger and faster. How he had survived he did not know. He just woke up nearly two weeks later in a empty house, with all his wounds healed and a sash wrapped around his waist. How he had come there and who had healed him he did not know. But it wasn’t because of the gods. The gods had forsaken him and his family that night. That unforgettable night.

Clearing his mind, Talwar continued his way to the main gate of the village, where he saw as always his childhood friend Geldyn awaiting his arrival. Geldyn was a young guard now, and one of the few people Talwar considered a friend. Well the only person Talwar considered a friend that was alive. Geldyn waited every year on this night for his friend’s arrival. He had been there the night that scared Talwar’s life. He had watched it all with Talwar and helped his exact his revenge. They were not brothers of blood but in every other respect their bond was just as strong or if not stronger.

Talwar had begged Geldyn to come with him nearly 20 years ago, when they had avenged his family’s death. But Geldyn couldn’t leave his family behind, so Talwar set out on his own. He would return every year this same night and every year Geldyn would be there waiting for him. Though they saw each other once a year, their bond was just as strong as ever. As Talwar walked up the road, Geldyn let out a sigh of relief. Talwar had not shown up for two years and he was afraid his friend had died a horrible death. Seeing this solitary figure walk out of the night covered completely in the black garb of a Calim****e, Geldyn knew his friend was well and he couldn’t wait to talk to him.

Walking up to the gate, Geldyn and Talwar shared a silent hello as they shook hands and Talwar headed to where his house once stood. Geldyn fell silently in line, knowing what was to come and feeling helpless at not being able to help his friend. The land where the house once stood was only 10 minutes from the main gate and was just like Talwar remembered it. The remains of the house, where just like they had been 3 years ago. The grass was over grown and wild flowers dotted what once had been his mother’s garden patch. It had been 20 years, yet he remembered the plot like it was yesterday.

Shaking off the memories, Talwar gathered whatever strength he had and stepped through the doorway of his home. Geldyn knowing what was to come waited outside for his dearest friend. His family had been butchered at different places within the house. At each place Talwar had placed a marker, to remind him that this is where his sisters, brother and parents had been hurt and then killed. It reminded him of his weakness and his inability to help those that he loved. He would never let that happen again. Kneeling at various points around the house he said a silent prayer not to the gods but to his family members, believing they could hear all that he had to say. He spoke to them of various problems and what he had done over the years and asked for forgiveness of anything he may have done that would have brought shame to the family.

As always Geldyn stood like a statue outside the ruins, giving his friend the time and peace he needed and he would be outside when his friend needed him. It was daybreak when Talwar left the ruins of his home and emerged to see Geldyn waiting there for him with open arms. Talwar was so emotional exhausted that he just collapsed into Geldyn’s arms without saying a word, knowing that his friend would take him to his home, where his family would treat him like they always did. Like a son.

[Rob-hin]

Yolta sighted, couldn’t he enter a village peacefully for a change?
Slowly, he turned around, showing himself to be harmless. The guard’s eyes widened as he saw more of this creature, standing in the middle of the village he had vowed to protect, and he wondered how this… thing had gotten in.

Yolta put on his most charming smile, though he knew it would mean little to the guard.

He approached the small blue figure. It was leaning heavily on a wand, an expensive looking one too. Other then that, he looked pretty simple, as to be expected from an xvart. A white beard decorated his face and it smiled at him friendly.

The guard leaned over and looked down at Yolta, his sword still drawn.
“How did you get in here?” He asked loudly, demanding an answer. “Speak!”

“Your vigilance is commendable.” Proper etiquette had proved effective at such accessions in the past. Yolta’s eyes glanced over the guard’s uniform. “Sergeant” He added and smiled again. “But I assure you, I pose no thread to you or your community.”

The sergeant just stared at this creature, every thing was wrong about it. Normally xvarts are violent and savage, quite the opposite of the one standing before him.
Yolta continued. “As for your enquiry how I entered, well, this is simple. Through the front gate, how else could I passed your watchful gaze?”

Talking like this got on his nerves, Yolta preferred simple and casual conversation. He pointed towards the front gate, towards the guard who saw him appear just a minute ago. “He let me in about fifteen minutes ago.”

[Magus]

The sergeant stared in disbelief at the creature in front of him. The thing talked? He’d come across such creatures before, always on the other end of his sword, always screaming and jabbering like wild animals. In his younger days, he’d helped put an entire village of them to the sword without a second thought. They were nasty, savage little goblin creatures, and the best xvart was a dead one as far as he cared.

This one was different though. And that made him suspicious.

He glanced at Geldyn. “You let this…thing in the town?” he asked skeptically, glaring at the younger man.

Geldyn met his gaze. “No sir. I let you know as soon as I saw him, sir.”

“That’s what I thought.” He looked at the xvart in front of him. “I don’t like you. I think you’re a spy. You’re coming with me. Now.” He brandished his powerful great sword, itching for an excuse to cleave this uppity goblinoid in two.

[Magus]

Her torch flickered, its small circle of light wavering within the oppressive darkness. Aerie forged ahead, scouring the room for hidden panels, buttons…anything. The air of the crypt was damp and moldy, and she felt sick to her stomach. Even empty as it was, she never felt comfortable in such places. The dusty scent of decay made her want to gag, but that was only half of it. She hated being underground…closed in on all sides like some trapped animal. The avariel needed to spread their wings…

She shook her head, dismissing the thought. Now was not the time for such musings. She ran her hand over the wall, and something clicked. The wall opened before her, revealing some moss-covered stairs leading down. She was almost there…

She reached the end of the stairs. Looking into the room, she saw she was not alone. A fire burned in the hearth on the opposite wall, and in front of it stood a man with his back to her. He was dressed in shimmering blue robes that seemed to shift before her eyes, the fabric sparkling with otherworldly luster. Fine pale blonde hair hung to his shoulders, and there was a certain dignity and majesty to his manner, evident even in the way he stood. He held an elaborate staff of fine wrought silver, topped with a magnificent gem that must have been worth a small kingdom alone. It glowed eerily as he grasped the staff, its prismatic colors at once dazzling and beautiful.

No…it couldn’t be…him. Could it? Could her long search be finally over?

“Magus?”

She whispered it, tentatively, as if upon uttering the name the scene would fade and disappear, and she would be alone once again.

The man turned, and she found herself face-to-face with the hideous skull of a lich. Glowing red eyes pierced her from the depths of bleached white eye sockets, bony taloned hands sliding along the luridly glowing staff. As she watched in horror, thick clumps of sickly blonde hair fell to the ground, piece by rotted piece. The monster grinned at her, its smile terrible as death itself.

AERIE…

Aerie awoke with a small shriek. Her heart pounding, gasping for breath, she lied her head back on her pillow. Tears streamed unchecked down her cheek, glinting in the silvery moonlight.

[Aegis]

"I don't like it..." Rail said, almost grumbling to himself, something the Assassin found himself doing more and more often in the arid heat of the Calim****e desert. He took the large canteen of water bouncing endlessly at his hip, and raised it to his head, uncapping it along the way. Ferchen tossed an amused smile towards the stoic Assassin, before the man doused his hiar back with the cool liquid.

The four rode through the desert, having acquired a score of camals that would take them from the City of Theives. They head North East, and with great speed. Sethin and Virrilis rode at the head, neither having said a word for the many hours they had already spent riding, leaving Ferchen to cope with Rail in behind.

"Though I trust the elf, his double is another matter..." He returned the cap to it's place in the canteen, then the canteen back to where it hung from the camal's back. "He is a product of the Demon, and is ripe with magic. I doubt he is to be trusted."

Ferchen looked forward as Rail spoke his concerns. She couldn't deny any of them, for she thought them as well. Sethin was the whole reason for them being in the southern deserts, and in Calim****e. Virrilis had asked the two of them to pursue Sethin with him, to defeat the clone, and now they were in league with it. "I don't think Virrilis is one to trust so easily..." She turned her head slightly towards Rail, who was running his natural remaining hand through his now damp hair. "I am sure there is something being hidden from us both, though I don't know what..." She turned her gaze back to where Sethin and Virrilis rode, btoh appearing opposite the other.

To her, Virrilis appeared as a desert prince, adorned in white silks flowing from his body, his honey blonde hair tied back, and neatly groomed. Where his hair ended, a deep blue sash continued on, it's length wrapped about the elf's slender, yet tone frame, only to trail along his side, concealing the simple sheathe holding 'Lash Bearer'. Sethin looked as if he were the mirror image of the Bladesinger, which seemed eerily fitting in the Ranger's mind. The clone wore tight fitting, black material, each muscle seemingly defined by the clothing. The only flecks of colour coming from the occasional sighting of the sapphire blue sheathes strapped to his back, hiding behind the mass of free flowing white hair. The two riding side by side seemed appropriate, and disturbing at the same time, a sight she never thought she would witness...

[CM]

Talwar woke suddenly. He never slept well the first couple of days after his pilgrimage. He was always haunted by his failure and the loss he felt so deeply. Breathing in the fresh clean air of his hometown. His home? Not anymore, not ever since that faithful night. He only came back now for his vigil and to see that his good friend was alive and well. Those were the only two things that mattered to him.

Getting up swiftly, Talwar donned the clothes left from him by his bed. It was night, and maybe Geldyn was on the watch. It would be good to get reacquainted with him and what had happened to the town over the years. Without a second thought, Talwar brought both his scimitars to their scabbards and started to walk out of the door, when the thought occurred to him "Do I even need these here, in this peaceful town?". Mulling over this for a minute or two, Talwar decided it was best that he carried them. "You never know what could happen,” he thought smirking into the dark.

Dressed and armed, Talwar headed out of the building as silent as the wind and proceed to the main gate. Senses honed through years of living on his own since the age of 5, Talwar noticed all the changes that had occurred in the town. Once it had been growing at a rapid rate. Now there were abandoned homes and shops that seemed to have been closed for months now. He would get his answers from Geldyn he knew that.

Reaching the gate he was astonished to find an Xvart with a white beard standing at the gate with a man who appeared to be a higher-ranking officer and Geldyn. Knowing something was not right, with the brandished sword and the fact no Xvart would ever be alone, Talwar started to move quicker. This smelled like an ambush and his only thought was of Geldyn's safety.

Nur and Haq were in Talwar’s hands as quick as lightening and his pace turned from a slow walk to a deliberate run towards the current confrontation. He had chosen his two scimitars, Haq and Nur for specific reasons over the years. Haq could detect any creature of an evil nature within a large area and Nur had the ability to cause extra damage born of the fury of a long dead Azer King.

Skidding his way in between the Xvart and the other humans, Talwar asked with a smile, “So what brings you to this fair town Xvart?”

[ScardyBob]

Shortly after Gidim had picked his place outside the city, the guard who had refused him entry gave a shout and disappeared from the gate. Under most circumstances he wouldn’t have given a second thought to such occurrences, but ever since he had started resting, his mind had been racing with the thought of what had brought him to this city.

‘This is your chance to get in!’

The thought had come so suddenly it was frightening. But he knew it was right. With a muffled groan and a quick motion of his body he was up and ready. Gripped by the desire to get into the city, Gidim hurriedly shuffled to the gate. Slowly opening it, he glanced in to see what had distracted the guard. An xvart was standing in front of the two guards. As the guards were speaking to the xvart, a man, with two scimitars drawn, rushed between the xvart and the guards.

‘Fool, that is no ordinary xvart!’ Rushed through Gidim’s head.

Once again he was surprised at the abruptness, but had no time to ponder it as he saw the guards starting to look around.

‘Quickly into the inn!’ a small inn lay to the side of the town near the gate.

He slowly edged through the gate and made a quick dash towards the inn. TRAVELER’S HAVEN was posted across the front of the building. With one more look to make sure no one had seen him, Gidim ducked into the inn.

[Rob-hin]

Yolta cursed to himself buy remained smiling, he had hoped for the two of them to be distracted long enough for him to cast a quickened suggestion spell. With it, he could have convinced the guards that he was harmless. The fist chance he gets, he decided, he would buy a ring of suggestion especially for such occasions.

“Of course, sir, will I come with you; if only to prove my harmlessness.” About to follow the sergeant, he noticed a person approaching them with great speed.
Two scimitars, fine magical weapons by the looks of it, blocked the line of communication between him and the sergeant; as the man positioned himself between them. Yolta wondered how the sergeant would respond about this new man challenging his authority.
“So what brings you to this fair town Xvart?” Two distrusting eyes looked down upon him.
The man didn’t look like an officer, but Yolta could not yet decide if they new each other, so he responded as diplomatic as he could. “It seemed like a beautiful village from afar, I had hoped to have a nice meal and a safe night of sleep. Perhaps do a little shopping tomorrow.” This was no lie, though he doubted anybody here would have a ring of suggestion.

Out of sight of the four men, a dark figure sneaked in through the gate and sneaked into the local inn.

[Aegis]

The group travelled only as long as the day light remained, knowing that to travel in the desert surrounding Calim****e would be be foolish, in that the temperature would drop dangerously low, and that there were all manners of creatures in the desert, not to forget any wandering bands of theives. They had step up camp by a small rocky outcropping, the smooth stone surface providing enough shelter from any winds that may happen to flare up during the night, and as a defensible spot if the need arose.

Virrilis, Ferchen and Rail sat around the fire, the now familar pipe dangling from the corner of the assassin's mouth, his artifical hand resting on his knee, the other propping himself up. Virrilis sat cross legged, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands pressed together by his face, his gaze locked intently on the fire. Ferchen sat near to Virrilis, partially concerned for the Bladesinger, but also concerned about the proximity of Sethin. None of the three trusted the clone. They had pursued him into the desert in order to kill him, and now they travelled with him. She glanced off to the side of the camp. Sethin sat atop one of the rocks, his leg and hair draped over the edge and hanging lightly. He seemed to be fixated on the unending darkness of the desert, as if something were to reveal itself. She didn't care he sat in solitude. She prefered it, in truth. As a discple of Mieliekki, and Ranger, she was determined to protect people from the dangers of the wild, and the threats posed from abnormalities of nature. Sethin certainly fit into both.

She turned her gaze back to the fire, and gave a quick look to Rail. He was watching both her and Virrilis with interest, as he so often did, his intentions always masked behind the stoic expression he seemed to wear so often. Even though they hadn't stopped long before hand, the camp was uncomfortably silent, no one saying what was on their minds. She turned to Virrilis, and lightly touched his arm. As she was about to say something, anything to break the silence, the Bladesinger surprised her.

"Sethin and I are linked..." He said calmly, his gaze unwaivering from the fire. Rail lowered his pipe, something of interest having been said, the assassin having long since learned the usefullness of information. Ferchen let her hand linger along Virrilis' arm for a moment longer. "Lazal created him from within me, using everything I despised within me."

He turned his gaze upwards slightly from the fire, the shadows dancing eeirly along the Bladesinger's face. "In essence, he is no different then I was when you knew me as Virdel. He embodies the malice, the greed, and the egotism that I displayed while masquerading." Virrilis shook his head lightly, and Ferchen slid closer to him. "I have been giving it great thought, of late. Trying to determine how Lazal created such a mirror image of myself, and I beleive it was because of my time spent as Virdel. Those thoughts, emotions, we're close enough to the surface, that the Demon was able to exploit them."

"Typical of magicians and their ilk..." Rail interjected pointedly, his dislike of the art showing through the stoic exterior. The other two by the fire glanced at him, Ferchen shrugging in response, Virrilis saying nothing. "They take your weakness, and they exploit it. Though he was my friend, I am sure Magus had done the same to many who worked for him, and even with him. Sorcery, is quite often, merely the art of misdirection. Lead your enemy or target to believe one thing, while you plan something different. There is not consistency to it, which makes it such a dangerous ability, and one that should be monitored more closely..."

Ferchen was about to say something, again, but Virrilis stepped in too quickly. "I have often wondered of your relationship with the Arch Magi. Your thoughts of magic have always been worn upon your sleeve, even if others had not noticed." As if in response to Ferchen's proximity, his hand listed casually over to hers, giving it a bref squeeze, as if trying to reassure about something. "You clearly have no affinity to the arcane, and yet you called Magus your friend-"

"Ally." Rail interjected quickly.

"What you will," Virrilis added afterwords. "never-the-less, you did not kill the man, as you have surely done countless times before. Why was this man different?"

Rail looked towards the elf, and then the fire. After a moment of silence, he took a long draw from the pipe he was still holding. "My reasons are, and always have been, my own, Bladesinger." He looked back towards Virrilis. "Ask yourself why I have not driven my blade into your back? You are one of the few in these lands that have mastered both blade and sorcery, and yet I have not made any move to kill you. Perhaps you will come to the answer you seek." After finishing the words, Rail took one last draw from the pipe, before turning it upside down over the fire, dumping the remaining contents into the blaze. The then stood from the warmth of the fire, and walked off to where he had earlier pitched his tent.

Virrilis and Ferchen watched as the assassin left, both sitting in a silence brought on by questions.

On the rocky outcropping, Sethin heard every word, a small grin finding it's way to his lips. Virrilis understood quickly. In his palm, the etchings on the Nether stone seemed to glow will a dull green light. He palmed it quickly, as to not attract any unwanted attention to it. He slipped it back into the pouch it usually was stowed away in. It had been only a few hours of travelling, but he already saw the rising tension of his presence. It would be an interesting trip to the Netheril Deserts. A very interesting one...

[Xandax]

Waking up after a quite night, well as quiet as could be after the incident with that creature, near the break of dawn, Xandax got out of bed.
He put on his armour – it was not exactly comfortable to constantly be wearing, but it was second nature to him now, so he hardly realised it – and decided to go down and get some food before exploring this town. He put on his dusty robe and wrapped Ferox in some rags. "It is proberly best to keep a low profile" Xandax thought to himself.

Taking the wrapped sword and his shield in his hand, Xandax walked down the stairs and sat down at one of the tables with his back against the wall.
The barkeep came up to him; it was the same women as before. Xandax ordered some food, which soon afterwards served to him. He paid the barkeep and started eating.

[Magus]

“Excuse me, but I believe I can handle an xvart without the meddling of some pompous freesword.” The sergeant glared at Talwar menacingly, unimpressed by his reputation. Without hesitation, he pushed Talwar aside and stood in front of the xvart. “Move.” He motioned with his greatsword in the direction of the town jail.

Before Talwar could react, Geldyn caught his gaze, his friend’s eyes imploring him to let it go and back off.

* * * * *

The barkeep looked up as a hunched man covered by a dirty rag of a cloak entered the Inn. She saw a flash of scaly skin as the man moved. Her eyes widened in disgust and fright. “Out! Away with you, filthy leper!” She grabbed a broom and took a step forward, waving it in front of her. “Go! Or I’ll call the guard!”

“What’s all this commotion?”

Gidim glanced over to see a pretty young elven lady in clean white robes standing by the staircase. A finely-crafted elven holy symbol hung from her neck, shining golden in the dull tavern light. She yawned, and noticing his gaze, smiled. She walked over to them, her movements simple but graceful, and looked at the barkeep shaking her broom at the hunched old man. “Is that any way to treat your customers?” she asked, lightly chiding. She moved towards the old man.

“Stay away from him! He’s a leper!” the barkeep warned her.

Aerie shook her head, a small smile on her face. “My faith will protect me.” She kneeled down, bringing her eyes level with his. “My name is Aerie. What is yours?” She smiled gently, her blue-grey eyes friendly and inviting, though a bit tired perhaps.

[Xandax]

Xandax was sitting eating when the figure entered the bar. The barkeep tried to get the person out. Some elf woman came down from the top stairs and went to help the person, while the barkeep mentioned he was a leper.

Xandax continued to eat his food.

“My name is Aerie. What is yours?” the elf asked the person.

Xandax stopped eating, and looked closer. He knew that name. Xandax thought to himself.
“Wasn’t she with …… and that creature ….. Magus”. Xandax looked around.

Xandax leaned back in his chair and observed closer, wondering what they where doing in this forsaken place and where Magus was, they were usually close to him.

[Rob-hin]

Walking slowly towards the jail Yolta leaned heavily on his staff, shuffling step by slow step, making sure the sergeant noticed his low physical abilities. “Faster.” The point of a sword pocked into his back. “I am an old man and can’t walk that fast.” Yolta responded, truth being he irritated even himself with this slow pass.

Arriving at the jail the sergeant opened the door for him and while stepping inside, Yolta observed his night resting place. It was simple to say the least, a chair and a desk, a weapon rack closed with a firm lock and a small jail cage containing a wooden board which served as a bed. The place looked like it didn’t have guests on a regular basis. The door to the jail cage was open and Yolta was directed inside immediately.

Since he didn’t carry any weapons, Yolta assumed he didn’t have to give of his few possessions; besides who would rob an old man… xvart, of his walking stick? He hopped onto the bed and made himself comfortable.

Yolta closed his eyes and intended to sleep till morning and see what happens then.

[Aegis]

Dawn had broken, and the it wasn't long before the sun was bearing down on the group. They hadn't stayed in the camp for long, packing up, and moving out again swiftly. It was more than a desire to get as far from Pasha Trium as possible, but there was something else unsettling to them, something closer. Unlike the previous portian of the travel, Sethin was in the lead, alone. Virrilis had sunk into the back, behind Rail and Ferchen, a dark look etched onto his once placid exterior. The most Rail and Ferchen could figure, was that the presence of Sethin set the Bladesinger off. The clone being there was concerning more then just Virrilis. Rarely did Rail take his calculating eyes of the dangerous clone, the glint of death often appearing within them. Rail had as much desire to see Sethin dead as Virrilis did.

It was at times such as these, Ferchen often found herself wondering about her actual role in the trio following the clone. She had not directly met Sethin, until Virrilis showed up the previous night with him in tow, insisting that they leave immediatly. She failed to see the true danger of Sethin, knowing only that the clone had almost bested Virrilis, as well as Rail, in combat, and that he was the spawn of the demon Lazal. But, he was also a part of Virrilis. Could he truely be so much of a reverse image of the Bladesinger that he couldn't be trusted? Even when Virrilis had masqueraded as a Drow in the city of Coin, it was only convincing the point of him being one of the evil race, but his natural charisma allowed people to see enough of the true elf, to not call him an enemy on sight. She pushed a loose strand of her hair back from her eyes, and looked towards Sethin, who sat atop the camel, looking forward with a determination wrought from survival. After a moment, she glanced back towards Virrilis. He, too, was looking towards the clone, but his was a look of hatred and contempt, a look almost unknown to the Bladesinger's comrades. She turned away quickly, the look of Virrilis was too much right now.

*****

Though Sethin's eyes never left the Northern route from the Calimshan desert, he idley rubbed the Nethril artifact with his gloved hand, each passing of his thumb leaving a trail of green light, and a brighter tracing of the markings. He felt the power of the artifact. It was what had attracted him to taking the stone from Pasha Trium in the first place. A c0cky smirk ethced itself onto his face thinking of how easily the Pasha had been betrayed, and stolen from. No matter, he thought to himself. Something was telling him that taking the artifact was far from a trival task, and that Trium wouldn't easily stop searching for them He ran his thumb over the stone again, leaving a brighter trail, and brighter markings.