Scattered Embers: Flames Rekindled (story)

[dragon wench]

Pale green interlaced with shifting gold formed a canopy over the still figure sprawled out upon earth, moss and musky leaf cover. The full heat of summer had not yet descended and a cool breeze, still shadowed by winter's clasp, moved across a set of contemplative eyes.

High above, birds chittered, brazenly proclaiming what they considered rightfully theirs.

Tashara stretched, enjoying the feel of damp, silken moss beneath restless fingertips. She inhaled the heady scents surrounding her, and for a moment the woman longed to experience, ever more intensely, the full complexity of smells only accessible through her lupine form.

It had been such a revelation when she had finally acquired the ability to become a wolf at will. All her senses suddenly seemed amplified a thousand times. Tashara felt as though, up until that point, she had never truly smelled or heard, never truly understood her surrounding world. She smiled at the memory of that first transformation, her first easy lope through sweetly-scented meadow, hushed stands of murmuring pines, deep ravines and emerald glades. Even the frantic scurrying of terrified rabbits... potential prey... had sent a thrill of ecstatic awareness coursing through her every fibre. It had been two years ago, but she still recalled every moment vividly. The utter joy, complete freedom and more peace than she had ever known.

A disdainful "harrumph," interrupted Tashara's reverie, and she idly directed an eye towards its source.

Some fifteen paces from where she lay a diminutive dragon, no more than perhaps ten inches tall, preened his wings in between haughty glances at his mistress.

“What do you want Axis? Have your animal companion friends outwitted you at another game of hide-and-go-seek?”

The small fairy dragon scowled at her, obviously miffed she had so easily divined the cause for his presence.

“It are those smelly tree huggers, I'm sure they train their animal companions in the arts of stealth.”

Tashara grinned wickedly. “Or it could just be that your fireballs give you away when you get overly excited.”

Axis glared in indignation, attempted to ignore her remark, and drew himself up to his full height.

“But of course, they don't realize I simply humour them by playing their games. They have yet to grasp that, I, as the familiar of a powerful mage, possessed with magics of my own, am infinitely superior.”

Tashara sighed. Whether or not it was a wistful sigh, or an expression of irritation, the dragon could not fully tell.

“I don't really practice those magic arts anymore, you know that.”

Axis glared a reply. “Yes, I do know that, you're wasting your time and talents with these smelly tree huggers.”

Tashara wondered if she should cast one of her favourite druid spells, Rainstorm, over the familiar. Without waiting for her response, Axis asked, “Don't you at least miss it?”

“At times I do,” she replied thoughtfully.
“But I have also grown much by learning the ways of the druids. I'm no longer the same person I was when I left that life behind.”

“You are the same person, being a druid just gives you a few more layers beneath which to hide.”

That hit a nerve. “Careful Axis, or I might just trade you in for an animal companion.”

“You wouldn't do that, how could you possibly exist without my unparalleled guidance and intelligence.”
“Or maybe you would... perhaps a handsome he-wolf.. hmmm.” The dragon fixed her with a positively lecherous stare.

Tashara, ignoring the latter comment, groaned. “I really should have renamed you Edwin.”

“Hah! Now there's a mage of some repute! He would never have sullied himself by an association with these tree huggers.”

This harmonious interchange between “mistress,” and familiar was suddenly interrupted by a noisy crashing through the undergrowth and urgent cries calling out her name.

T'Shanor burst into view, and breathlessly stated the reason for his appearance in a single word. “ORCS!!!”

Tashara leapt up. “Orcs? Where?”

“About three hours march away to the West. They are headed straight towards us, about 500 of them, maybe more.”

She inhaled sharply, and wanted to ask why orcs would have penetrated into the forests of Tethyr. Her elven friends had told her when she had first arrived that no orc had dared to tread upon this sacred ground for centuries. But it was not the time for questions. Instead, she busied her mind with strategies as T'Shanor loped alongside her in the direction of the community's war council. It was a war council in name only, however. This particular group of elves had not truly seen conflict in hundreds of years.

As if guessing her thoughts, the tall, slender figure at her side asked, “Do you still have your wizard magics memorised? If not, you might have time to rest before they reach us.”
Tashara was grateful that she had kept her favourite mage spells ready to use, and she nodded in affirmation while making a mental list of the arsenal at her disposal, not forgetting the dangerously sharp longsword and light, enchanted chain mail she kept in the small hut called “home.”

“I have a lot of area of effect spells....fireballs, horrid wilting... cloud kill... sleep.. horror.. chaos...web...icestorm.... Plenty of magic missiles and minute meteors as well. Hopefully that will help to incapacitate them and reduce their numbers."
The numbers worried her. The entire elven settlement was home to no more than 500 souls, and of those only half would be experienced enough to enter into battle. Although there were some mages and fighters, the majority amongst these elves were skilled archers, rangers and druids. As she had learned, however, the druid channeling of natural forces was also extremely powerful, and she had been awed as she first learned to weave those living strands linking her to the elements. Call lightening, though it could not be used indoors, was particularly impressive, and unlike it's mage equivalent, lightening bolt, it did not target friends. Instead, great thundering flashes would hurl themselves from the sky striking down any who would harm the caster. Then there were spells like entangle, spike growth and spike stones that would slow down a cluster of enemies while stabbing, spearing and cutting into armor and flesh.

With a sudden jolt, Tashara realised she was almost looking forward to the coming battle.. it had been a long time. Axis, who was perched on her shoulder, and keenly aware of her thoughts, snickered into her ear.

“Just shut up, Okay? And be careful how you aim those fireballs of yours, we don't want to scorch the trees if we can help it, nor our friends.”

“Dirty tree huggers, they are your friends.”

“Indeed, in which case you would find it beneficial to your health to be careful.”

T'Shanor gave her a somewhat curious sidelong glance, and she was grateful that the elf was unable to hear her conversation with Axis. The telepathic link between mage and familiar had many uses.

[dragon wench]

Soon, they reached the settlement. Before proceeding to the war council, Tashara ducked into her own hut and quickly found her armor and sword. Though she had not used either in the past five years, both were in excellent condition. She had been careful to ensure they remained in complete repair. The sight of these reminders, though, caused her a sudden shudder, and unbidden memories of her last battle came flooding back. Using the full force of her more recently acquired druidic powers, however, she successfully pushed them away. “The past is the past,” she murmured softly. For once, Axis said nothing on the subject, and instead reminded her that it would be wise to grab some healing potions, since it was never easy to heal one's self with a spell in the midst of battle.

Thus equipped, Tashara sped over to the clearing where the elven leaders had drawn up some preliminary plans. They seemed relieved to see her, and updated her on their tactical discussion. It seemed they wanted her to initially cast spells such as sleep and chaos over large groups of the enemy, followed by fireballs and similarly destructive magics. Their archers, meanwhile, would take down individual orcs who had survived the searing flames, acids and other magics flying from her fingertips. Tashara nodded, though it was with a frown.

“I can do this easily enough, and it makes sense. But, you should know, the last time I fought orcs they did not cluster together as much. If this particular group of orcs is similarly intelligent it will be more difficult to use area of effect magic.”

T'Shanor spoke. "Our scouts have identified their exact location, the orcs are marching in legion formation, We could sneak through the forest, a forest the orcs do not know, and take them by surprise... before they even reach our families.. and children.”

Another leader spoke up, “But can Tashara sneak?”

She inwardly rolled her eyes. “I do have an improved invisibly spell memorised.”

So it was agreed. The entire party of able fighters would glide silently through the forest, denying the orcs of the surprise attack they obviously had planned.

The journey towards the orc's location was uneventful, though Tashara marveled at the elven ability to to move unseen and unheard, especially considering that their group consisted of more than 200.

Upon reaching their destination, the mage and numerous archers carefully climbed into arcing branches and waited until they heard the bird whistles of their scouts.

A quick series of chirps, followed by a long, drawn out call was her signal. Without hesitating Tashara launched her spell triggers. Chaos, horror, and sleep swept out towards vast numbers of orcs. She quickly followed with fireballs, cloudkills and horrid wilting spells. The air, almost instantly, was filled with surprised screams and the stench of burning orcish flesh. Their enemies, at least those still standing with their wits fully intact, looked around in stunned shock, trying to discern the sudden source of the attack. Numerous druids cast spike stones, spike growth and call lightening; agonised screams could be heard as stone, vine and undergrowth penetrated and twisted into cumbersome plate mail and unprotected skin. Lightening bolts from the sky crashed down, instantly electrocuting the metal-plated orcs whose armor only served as a convenient mobile conductor. From her vantage point in the tree, Tashara was able to target an area a considerable distance away with web, ensnaring a large group of orcs in sticky strands that rendered them immobile. The archers, taking advantage of the confusion, rained down arrows, picking off each remaining orc, one by one.

It was over quickly. The plan had worked, impressively so. Not a single elf had been injured, and the party had succeeded in bringing down a legion of orcs more than twice it's size. Only a straggling cluster of the grunting humanoids remained, and these were swiftly taken prisoner; they would be questioned upon return to the elven settlement.

The march home took much longer. The prisoners were severely wounded, and their typically heavy armor slowed them down even more. Finally, in sheer disgust, several of the druids cast healing spells at the captives, if only to increase their speed, and hopefully, their interest in talking.

Soon enough, tents, huts and cabins loomed out of the gathering dusk and a crowd of worried elves surrounded the returning party asking questions and staring with undisguised loathing at the orcs.

The captives, under heavy guard, were ushered into a quickly constructed makeshift pen. Tashara wondered if a more permanent prison would be built, but the dark look in the eyes of the elven leaders supplied her answer. These orcs would be stripped of any information they might provide and then executed. She grimaced... there were elements of war that she had never been comfortable with.

She followed the elven leaders into a hut. After swallowing down food and drink the party began their discussions. Although she had been fully accepted into their ranks, Tashara remained silent at first, still hesitant to voice her thoughts in a company that had so recently (at least in elven terms) admitted her into its inner circle.

After a time, she asked the question that had been tugging at her since news of the orcish presence first reached her ears.

“Why would they have come here... it has been hundreds of years, has it not?”

T'Shanor answered her, “There have been occasional skirmishes around the edges of Tethyr, but nothing of this magnitude.”

“There must be something or someone behind this then," the woman replied, still cautious.

The elves agreed, and deep worry burned from sharp, slanting eyes. An elf spoke, “One of us needs to investigate what is happening beyond these forests. This is likely only a first sign of something far more ominous”

In unison, all eyes turned towards Tashara. Before she could even ask, they explained.

“The orcs were coming from the North and West, you know those lands.”

“And you are not an elf,” added another voice, “You would have better chance of not arousing suspicions.”

She spoke then, “And what of the prisoners, surely some information will be gleaned from them.”

“Yes, some, but they will also lie, we will need accurate and trusted counsel.”

Tashara sighed, her thoughts a mixture of deep regret and anticipation. Axis, still perched on her shoulder, could not contain his utter jubilation and danced excitedly from one horned foot to another.

“I would be honoured,” she murmured, bowing her head.

[Magrus]

Wiping sweat from his brow, the little gnome sighed and set down his wrench.

"This is it Nhutcluk, it's done. My greatest achievement is finished!"

Turning his head, and glancing over, he spots Nhutcluk munching happily on a tree. Growling his frustrating, the little gnome snatches up his wrench and hurls it at the rather large, dark scaled lizard. The lizard lights up in a flash of electricity and the wrench is caught in the field and tossed high into the air as the lizard complacently keeps stripping branch after branch of leaves. Stomping his foot, the gnome curses and reaches to grab another wrench when the first one, spinning wildly through the air, slams into his head and knocks him to the ground.

Moaning in pain and clutching his head, the gnome is suddenly lifted high into the air and starts screeching. He's then gently set down on his feet and turns around ready to blast the wretch who dared to manhandle the Great Snirf, when he gazes into the reptilian eyes of Nhutcluk. Glaring at the lizard, well, craning his neck to glare up at the lizard he shouts..

"My Duo-Cyclic-All-Terain-Gnome-War-Cart is ready you great beast! Prepare yourself!"

Rolling it's eyes, Nhutcluk ponder's over towards the front of the contraption and allows himself to be strapped into the front of it. Turning it's head around to stare at the gnome as Snirf climbs into the seat behind him, he turns back and awaits for orders.

"This, is the greatest day of my life! I shall be reknowed among my people and n-"

The lizard jumps to a trot, tossing the little gnome back into his seat with a loud thwack.

"Confound it you great beast! You ruined my speech!" Snirf screams.

The lizard slows to a walk and grins slightly to himself.

"Forward Nhutcluk! We shall see how fast this thing really can go now. Run for that cliff and show me what this thing can do!"

After days of being forced to sit in that cavern, the lizard follows through with enthusiam. Charging at the cliff-face, he rears back, and grabs onto the wall, rapidly climbing up it. Oddly enough, the strange, shiny cart's wheels stick to it as well!

"AHA! It works! Head for that town near that forest friend. We shall show them who's the fool now!"

The lizard grunts and finishes climbing up the cliff and heads toward the town in the distance at a slower pace. Snirf leans back, drifting off in his own little world for a time. After about an hour, he sits up, and spots a deer munching in the distance. Reaching forward, he grasps the handles in front of him, tugging on them and pulling them back, the lizard slows to a halt. Snirf whispers to Nhutcluk

"You see that deer?"

Nhutcluk nods.

"Well, sneak up on it, we'll have meat tonight!"

Nhutcluk grins and silently pulls the cart along across the field, the well oiled machine running smoothly and silently. Leaning out of the seat, Snirf waits until he comes close to the deer, and suddenly, a glowing blue short-swort appears in his hands, then glows brighter. As he moves a little closer, it is lit up in bright red flames. Creeping up behind the deer, he pulls his arm back, and throws the brightly glowing blade at the deer. Panicking, the deer moves out of the way. Snirf curses and raises his hand and launches a brilliant red bolt of fire at the deer, burning it to a crisp where it stands.

"Confound it lizard! You cost me my dinner! Now what am I going to eat?!"

The lizard, still grinning, turns toward the massive forest and starts plodding towards those wonderfully large trees. Still cursing, Snirf is waving his arms wildly, when he spots a hare staring at them. Another blade appears in the gnomes hand and he launches it, spitting the hare in one, smooth motion. Yanking on the handles, he stops Nhutcluk and jumps down to go grab the hare. The blade having dissapeared, he happily snatches the hare up, and trots back to jump into the seat again, pulling on the handles which sets two small boots to kicking the flanks of the lizard.

"Woohoo! I have dinner you rotten beast! Now lets make camp so I can cook this thing eh?"

Tugging on the handles to signal to stop, the lizard trots towards the trees and starts munching on them as he stops. Cursing again the gnome fumes.

"You, do as I say beast. Not the other way around. You hear that?!"

Nhutcluk snorts and keeps eating the leaves off of the branches of the trees nearby. Frustrated, the little gnome grasps the hare, produces yet another blade in his hand and sets to cleaning it. When done, he holds the raw meat in both hands, and suddenly his hands are wreathed in fire. After a few moments, the flame dissapears and Snirf sighs contentedly.

"Finally done. Now, it's time to eat!"

While munching on steaming hot rabbit meat, he reminisces about old times.

"Do you recall the time we were cast out of the vast city of Glitterdeep my friend? I do. Such a horrible misunderstanding...I was just testing my new trick! I didn't know it would set the library ablaze. Ah, what a horrible trick that ended up being. Well, new adventures my friend! We've come a long way since breaking out of that dark place and onto the surface. Why, you even grew to an enormous size while I learned all of my new tricks. Didn't you!"

Sighing, Nhutcluk curls up in front of the contraption and falls asleep.

"Confound it lizard! I was talking to you!"

[T'lainya]

Xivaril's heart pounded and he fidgeted nervously as Endelia Silverbranch approached. The young elf was dressed in pale blue robes adorned only by the silver crescent moon embroidered on the front. The young priest had only been ordained a sevenday ago, graduating from novitiate to cleric. Endelia would be bringing his new assignment, one that would take him outside the walls of Evereska for the first time in his life.

“Corellon's light upon thee brother.” Endelia greeted her young protege.

“May the stars light thy path s-s-sister.” Xivaril stammered out, inwardly cursing his lack of composure. He was used to addressing the priestess as a revered elder, not an equal.

Endelia smiled. “Are you ready to begin your new calling?”

“I hope so. I mean I hope that I am deserving of the trust you place in me.”

Endelia hid her amusement at Xivaril's earnestness and smiled fondly at him. “I'm sure you will serve the Coronal well. You will be traveling to a small settlement near the western edge of Cormyr. You will work under the guidance of Dermondil Rainseed.” She looked around the small chamber, then turned to the door, motioning Xivaril to follow.

T'lainya stood in one of the open courtyards adjacent to the high fane. A great ash tree dominated the center, the trunk thicker than a wine cask. Morning glory and wisteria climbed over every surface, while the small silver blossoms of Sehanine's tears dotted the ground. The priestess inhaled deeply, basking in the warm serenity of the sun. Peace was a rare commodity in her life. She was more familiar with the hazards of the open road and battles against those who threatened Evereska.

She had just returned from Anauroch. The burning desert was rife with dangers, including the shades and phaerinn warring with each other and any soul unfortunate to be caught in the undead struggle. The incessant warring had driven a lich named Kalmazzhirrhan from his desert lair to the mountains separating Evereska from Anauroch. The lich had taken to slaughtering unwary travelers in a bid to create an undead army of his own. T'lainya and a small band had confronted the creature and it's minions, destroying them and the phylactery that held the liches essence. She shook her head to banish the unpleasant images, Nimiel the mage setting off a trap, the resulting acid spray nearly blinding her. She had been lucky, T'lainya thought grimly, the healing wouldn't leave scars, perhaps Nimiel would learn caution from the incident. She could still remember the sound of shattered bones and the rotten smell of undead flesh.

She took one last look around the courtyard, imprinting the beauty into her mind. She offered a silent thanks that such peacefulness existed and walked into the temple. The marble floors gleamed like mirrors, reflecting the light to the high ceiling. T'lainya smiled at the novitiates busily polishing floors, pillars, walls; indeed anything within reach. She nodded towards the stern looking gold-haired elf overseeing them.

“Master Forthryn, diligent as ever I see. May Corellons light guide thee.”

“M'lady T'lainya, it is good you have returned unscathed. I trust that you are well rested? I understand that our scouts have disturbing news from the south. A feywardens work is never done I suppose. (Even a half-breeds) he muttered under his breath. Ahhh and may the stars guide thee on thy path.” The master of novitiates nodded, his tone courteous but cold.

T'lainya smiled ignoring the slight discourtesy. “Is Endelia about? I would speak to her before I set out upon my never ending duties.” she said wryly.

Forthryn frowned slightly and said “I believe she is in the junior priests quarters, another of her fledglings is leaving the nest today.”

“My thanks Forthryn.” T'lainya said, reminding the elf that she still outranked him. He tensed at her words,and glared at the half elf, but could not hold her gaze. In truth she was tired of his tenacious dislike and distrust of half elves. He had made her time as a novice a grinding trial . He would never accept her fully, no matter how dutifully she served.

[T'lainya]

“He is jealous you know.” A soft voice spoke behind her. “He still seethes that you were chosen to join the ranks of the feywardens.” Endelia stepped forward and embraced her former pupil.

“My friend! You delight my heart and eyes!” T'lainya's eyes sparkled with pleasure as she returned her friends embrace.

Endelia pulled a young elf forward. “May I introduce you to Xivaril? He is newly ordained among us. We will travel to the edge of Cormyr, where he will assume his new duties.”

“Under Dermondil? A good choice, he is patient and thoughtful, perfect for a mentor. He will guide you in the transition from assisting in priestly duties to assuming them.” T'lainya studied Xivaril. She saw a young elf of medium height, golden haired with light blue eyes looking out of an honest face. He seemd nervous, and was trying unsuccessfully to conceal it.

Xivaril looked at T'lainya, trying not to stare. He saw a tall, slender half elf clad in a simple azure gown edged with silver thread. The silver crescent moon was worked in mithril on the bodice. Her hair was long and red, cascading down to her waist, held back from her face with two simple combs. Then he saw her eyes and gasped. They were deep and green, all the hues of spring and new leaves, jade and emerald. The pupils were azure, star shaped and almost glowing with an inner light. Xivaril felt that she could see straight into his soul. With a tremendous effort he broke eye contact, his gaze drawn to her throat. What he had taken for an amulet was something else entirely. A thin silver line circled her neck, a shining silvery crescent moon pulsed within the pale skin.

T'lainya noticed Xivarils surprise and replied gently to his unspoken question. “That was where my holy symbol rested. It was merged into my skin during the battle with the abomination, what once was the avatar of the dead god Moander. If it hadn't been for the Dark Flames...” Her voice trailed off. She allowed herself a brief recollection of her friends. It had been some time since she had seen any of them.

Xivaril blushed slightly as he realized his curiosity might be considered rude. He and the other novices had heard stories of Lord Lyanders daughter, most centering around her battle prowess or occasional loss of temper. Something to do with a lecherous drunk and the insect plague spell. Xivaril knew that some of the full blooded elves were unhappy with a half elf not only being accepted into the clergy but into the faernsuora-the feywardens. The specialty priests of Corellon Larethian were some of the most powerful and respected elves of the realm. He knew that T'lainya had worked hard for the Tel'Quessir, never balking from the most dangerous or unpleasant assignments. He wondered briefly how the more stiff necked elves had felt when she was named to the inner circle of the faithful. He caught Endelia watching him, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

“Curiosity satisfied?” She asked, barely stifling her laughter at Xivarils discomfiture.

“Errm yes, I mean I'm sorry...I intended no harm.” he said sheepishly.

T'lainya laughed delightedly. “No harm was intended and no harm was done. Most don't have the courage to ask.”

Endelia laughed too. “Where are you off to next?”

“I'm not sure.” T'lainya frowned. “Forthryn said there had been disturbing reports from various regions...Tethyr, the High Forest and the Northern Sword Coast. I suppose I'll find out more this evening from the inner circle. And tonight I dine with my father, i'm sure he'll have information too.”

“Perhaps your path will link with ours for a short time. It's been too long since we've shared tales over a campfire.” Endelia smiled. “Give my regards to Lyander.”

“I shall. Peace upon thee my friend.”

[Cuchulain82]

Setanta strode among the dead, trying to find some sembelance of order among the bodies. The orcs lay dead where they had fallen, burned and scarred, death clinging to all the corpses in the same, unnatural way.

I just don't get it he thought, these orcs were on the move, and now they all lay where they were attacked.

Sighing, Setanta tried to make some sense of the slaughter. He had always been very good at discerning what happened during the course of the battle, but this left him more than a little confused.

"It's almost as if it was one big ambush, not a battle at all..."

Well, a battlefield was a battlefield, and he had seen enough of them, so Setanta set out, intent on finding whoever was responsible for this destruction. After looking over the bodies and finding nothing out of the ordinary, Setanta slowly followed the only remaining tracks, heading slowly in the direction of whoever had attacked the group of Orcs.

Hopefully they'll be the group I'm looking for... if not...... well, I guess that answer will come with time...

[CM]

He had had enough. Confounded bear, annoying humans and weird tavern. He had enough of all of this. Dusting himself off and getting off the large bear, Fas grabbed his gear and Mr. Tiddles and marched out the door. The tavern was weird and the people were even weirder. Crazy more like it. He longed for Yshania's tavern. But they had all left without him. They had abandoned them. He squeezed Mr. Tiddles hard and the cat screeched his annoyance at having his bones crushed.

"Well Mr. Tiddles, it is you and me again, it seems we shall find adventure else where or maybe a cutie who shall fall for my haftershave. They shall write tales about us Mr. Tiddles, Bards shall sing of our fame and fortune and our great adventures. "Fas, Mr. Tiddles and the quest for the haftershave". Yes that is what we shall call it", grinned Fas as he mumbled on.

Mr. Tiddles rolleyed his cat eyes in annoyance, Fas, he thought, was always over dramatic and will never get a lass, so he might as well forget his quest and get Mr. Tiddles a nice bowl of milk. Mr. Tiddles climbed up on to Fas's head, curled up and fell asleep. Fas and his cat travelled for many days before reaching a human settlement, from which both were kicked out promptly for being extremely annoying and hitting on all the female inhabitants. Not a pretty sight.

So they travelled some more, Fas learnt to fight with a short sword and shield only after he was picked up, robbed and basically treated like a court jester. He travelled for a year and a half, learning the various trades needed for survival and Mr. Tiddles was there the entire time. During this period, Fas was slapped by 2978 women in total. Kicked by 2984 and thrown out of 6829 bars. But he learnt everything the hard way and had yet to recieve the true gift of the haftershave.

He met many haffers who all hated him. However for one old hafling who seemed to understand Fas on a much more personal level. He taught Fas everything. To use a sword and shield. Use two short swords and how to fight, run and hit on women. Fas still got slapped regardless. Once learning this all, the old man known as Hank Wank, kicked Fas out of his home after Fas got into Hank Wank's special stash of shine. That was the end of a beautiful friendship and a start of a drunken binge.

Fas left then heading south of the Spine World back into the lush lands of the elves.

[Magrus]

Snirf was jolted awake to the dawning sun, and the screeching of a creature in front of him. Stretching and turning towards the sound he says

"Nhutcluk, stop chewing on his head and let him speak. That's a good boy. What is it you were doing around here filth? Planning on taking my Duo-Cycle? I thought so! Battle stations beast!"

Snatching up his rather large, bulbous, shiny helmet, he crams it on his head and leans forward as the lizard stands up to its full height in front of the terrified and mangled orc. The orc, screaming hysterically and bleeding horribly, attempts to limp away into the saftey of the trees. Whimpering "crazy elfs'es an' gnomes'es" he catches Snirf's attention with his babblings. Jumping onto the lizards back, and running down across it's body to the end of his snout, he points his finger at the orc and shouts

"Elves you say?! Where? STOP or I'll fry you! There, that's better. What happened?"

The orc glares at the huge black helmet and spits on it and says

"Elfs'es in trees. We's was gettin firewood's when boom! Fires and deaths in our way! I ran away, missed the fires, and the deaths, and the nasty, nasty elfs'es arrows. Then stumble into beast here and it munch on head!"

Nhutcluk grins and shifts around, unceremoniously dumping Snirf onto the orc in the process. Sputtering, Snirf clambors around untop of the miserable creature and bellows a challenge to wrestle. The orc, terrified again, throws the little gnome to the ground under him as the gnome screeches and is suddenly ablaze in hot flames. Burning all over from the flames licking at his skin the orc tries to run, but the little gnome has a grip like a devil. Wrapping his hands around the orcs neck, he holds on tight and fries the orc as he's flailing around. Bearing the crisped orc to the ground, Snirf lets the flames writhing his body die out before jumping back into the seat of his Duo-Cycle.

"Nhutcluk! Good job catching that fiend. We should scout this area out to investigate his story. Head that-away! Double-time beast!"

Trotting along the edge of the tree-line, the two made their way around to the remains of a large host of orcs. Dead orcs. Searching through the bodies, it seemed as if the creature had been telling the truth. Looking up, he spots a humanoid in the distance searching through the bodies as well. Pulling on the two handles in front him, twin boots smack into Nhutcluk's hide and he shouts...

"Onward beast! We shall entreat with that personage in the distance and find out what went on here!"

Trotting through the killing field, the come upon a man walking through the field.

"Ho there!" Snirf says. "Who are you and what's your business with all of this?"

[Bloodstalker]

Bloodstalker rode Slowly down the main street of town, appearing for all the world the weary traveler he was.I had been a long three months on the rode since he'd felt the urge to leave Icewind Dale again. Some would wonder why he bothered to leave at all, since his path would undoubtably lead him back to the northlands that he for some reason still considered his home. A home in the sense that his blood would always crave the harsh winds and jagged peaks of what small scattered remembrences of his youth could tell him of peace, but he also knew enough to know that for all the affection he had for it, he did not truly belong there.

Had his weary mind been occupied with thought, he would have wondered at the idea of belonging anywhere. In all his life, he had never truly found a place to call his. He had believed himself to be in such a place a little over four years earlier among the Dark Flames, but as time went by it had become apparent that the answers he sought would not be answered in that company. At least at that time. While they had been very dear to him, some part of him had always been witheld from everyone. Even those he had forged the closest ties to. He had seen this, and yet been powerless to stop his withdrawal. Aegis had questioned him about it,the elf being one of Bloodstalkers earliest friends in the group, but to no avail. The same had been true for Nippy, Mysteria, and all the others who tried to breach the subject. It had put undue stress on his relations with them all, most notably the one that had been growing steadily for awhile with Aqua-Chan.

Even then, he may have stayed in their company, trying to find himself among friends had not his past caught up with him at last. Kalador's appearance had been sudden, and unerving in the extreme seeing as how BS had believed the bounty hunter dead. After a vicious battle in Windspear Hills which had left both combatants severely wounded, Kalador had managed to escape. While all had greeted his return from the fight with relief, he himself had known finally that there could be no future for himself until he laid the past to rest. Aegis he believed had understood, having the peculiar insight all elves seemed to posess, as had Thantor, who had long known what haunted him. Most of the others had argued that he did not need to face such things alone, and had offered support in whatever way they could. But he had refused, instead leaving the next morning.in the year following, he had found some measure of acceptance with himself, dealing with his problems head on until he had been free enough to let go of what he could not control. He had not returned to the DF however, instead wandering the realms, altering his occupation to fit wherever he happened to be at the time. Which is how he found himself here in Windhaven once again working as guard on a caravan from Athkatla.

His passing as he made his way toward the town guard barracks was met with little more than passing glances. He was familiar to the inhabitants, as Windhaven was one of the few places he managed to return to on a semi-regular basis. While he held few close friends locally, none thought it a stange sight to see him, a tall, broad shouldered man with long flowing black hair, looking like he just stepped out of any of the Nine Hells, swing down from the saddle and walk into the barracks.

The guard at the door gave him a cursory inspection, recognized him immediatly, and waved him toward the back office where Delin Trawl could be found. BS nodded his thanks wearily as he walked by, closing the door behind him as he stepped into the Captains room.

Delin sat at his desk, his brows furrowed as he mumbeled to himself admist the mountain of paperwork that always tended to accumulate in any setting. He didn't even bother to look up as BS slumped into the chair across from him, instead grunting what he supposed would pass as a greeting before finally speaking.

"You're late."

"Take it up with the caravans leader," BS said, leaning back in his seat and propping his feet up on the egde of the desk."We had a few problems, fell behind a bit, nothing to worry yourself about."

Delin's head snapped up as his eyes burned into BS. "What kind of problems? Bandits, orcs? and get your feet off my desk, you're muddying my reports."

Removing his feet from their offending position, BS suppressed a small grin. "Nothing near so heroic sounding. A couple busted axles, the rain washed out the roads in a couple places and we had to backtrack a bit. As for bandits, nothing you wouldn't expect, just the occasional misguided soul trying to avoid work."

"So you didn't see anything that was a bit off? No group that seemed too well organized?"

"And how organized would you expect a couple show-off kids who are tired of farming and want to get famous and rich the easy way to be?" BS answered disinterestedly.

"I mean it BS, if you seen anything, even any sign of a large group passing through, or some.."

"What is this, a damned inquisition?" BS interrupted, slightly irritated at the way his friend was doggedly pressing him.

Delin sighed and slumped back into his chair, losing the hard edged nervousness he'd had earlier. "Sorry if I seem a bit put out. It's just that rumors have been going around of something going on. I'm just looking for anything that'll help me figure out what."

Bloodstalker shifted forward in his seat, his interest piqued."I've been hearing the same whispers and rumors for the past three weeks or so. Chalked it up to superstition or simple making things up out of boredom. Locals are always making up some evil or another to scare themselves to death. I didn't think it would have reached this far though if that were the case. What do you know about any of it?"

"Not much different than you do most likely. The odd farmer carrying tales, travellers worrying over something they don't even have a reason for. I'd about dismissed it myself until a few days ago i heard something I could'nt afford to overlook."

A moments heasitation, and BS got tired of Delins inherent love dramatic moment. "Well, you gonna tell me or what? I would like to get something to eat and a bath this tenday if it's all the same to you."

"Orcs." Delin spoke as casually as if he'd just metioned that the room needed painting."And your right, you could use the bath."

"Where?"

"Don't have the specifics. All I know is a few reports have come in saying a band passed through here not long ago. Quite a large number for their kind to from what I can gather. Averything points to them heading to the southeast. Probably somewhere in the vicinity of Tethyr, which makes it too far to be able to confirm anything.."Delin trailed off.

BS picked up the thought that had been left unsaid."But not far enough away to be able to ignore it either.I've been in that general area a few times, it wouldn't take more than three or four days on a good horse to get there. So what do you plan on doing?"

At the moment, nothing. I don't have the men to be able to spare a scouting party for that long. Until I get some more solid information, I'll just have to try and keep an eye open, maybe increase the area of the patrol routes for awhile. And you? How long you gonna be in town this time?"

"Couple days at the least, maybe more. I'm looking forward to anything that doesn't require me sitting a saddle all day. Speaking of which,I'm gonna get that bath and dinner. They still got my room set up over at the inn?" Bs asked, rising and making his way towards the door.

"As always. They figure you add some color to the place I suppose. I'll be around later and we'll split a bottle."

"Sounds good to me. And let me no if you hear anything or if you need something. Since I'll be around anyway, I might as well at least appear to be useful."

Delin simply nodded and returned to his paperwork as BS let himself out, his mind digesting what he'd heard, and wondering why he never chose to come to Windhaven when it was anywhere near the peaceful little community it seemed outwardly to be.

[T'lainya]

T'lainya rubbed her eyes wearily. The meeting of the inner circle had gone on for hours. The circle was comprised of the senior clergy of all the Seldarine, the elven deities who protected Evereska. In addition a number of mages, advisers and sages had been present, as well as King Druaghdhor. The meeting had touched on the shade war brewing in Anauroch, as well as the vaguer reports from tethyr and the High Forest. Those reports were vaguer, well organized goblinkin raids, the usual troll conflicts and some heavy bandit activity along the trade routes. Nothing seemed unusual, yet she had a nagging feeling that something was wrong.

She looked up to see her father watching her. “Will you be staying long? I've missed you. Although i would certainly understand if you were inclined to miss Lady Falunders's dinner party. Which is in two days.” he said with an eloquent grimace.
“Lord and Lady Falunder are having a dinner party?” T'lainya's eyes widened in a mixture of fear and laughter. “After the last one? Their eldest son attempted to conjure an efreet to light the candelabra. I thought they'd never put the flames out!”

“Especially after the angry efreet summoned in the elementals.” Lyander was laughing uncontrollably now.

“Not to mention the conjured birds that swarmed the dinner table and ended up pulling Lady Falunder's wig off!” T'lainya giggled. “It's good to see you father. I think however I must decline the party. I want to accompany Endelia and Xivaril to Cormyr. The reports of bandits concerns me.”

“I suspect that Lady Endelia can take care of herself.” Lyanders eyes gleamed in the soft candlelight. “However I suppose you two have much to catch up on.” (How like her mother she is, he thought to himself, the same tilt of her chin, the same fiery hair...and temper he chuckled to himself).

T'lainya saw the far away look in Lyanders eyes. He's thinking of my mother she thought. “Come father, let us watch the stars and think of those in Arvendor.”

Lyander rose, offering his arm to T'lainya and they walked out into the terraced gardens.

Dawn came over the mountains, rose and gold light that carried the scent of roses and a promise of hope. T'lainya finished packing her traveling gear, spell components, potions and such arranged for maximum efficiency. She donned her armor, finely wrought elven chain of blue and silver. The lethal mace named Star of the Seldarine and her moonblade, aglow with faerie fire running up and down the blade. She saluted the rising sun with the blade and sheathed it. Her plain robes and cloak covered the bright mail and weapons. Lyander stood in the doorway and bid T'lainya good journey. She turned and blew a kiss, then went off to meet Endelia and Xivaril.

[Cuchulain82]

Setanta was not surprised often- he had seen battle, traveled for years at a time, and found himself in more sticky situations than any one person should ever encounter. He had been trained not to be surprised. The fighting life did not favor those who were easily surprised. However, for all his lack of surprise, he was regularly stunned by the some of the encounters he found himself in. Looking across the field, Setanta knew that this would be one of those stunning times. Indeed, if his life was a strange fishing trip, it looked like he was about to land a whopper.

Across the open field, not too far from the group of orc bodies, was a small gnome in a strange cart being pulled by a large lizard.

“What in the nine hells is that?” he said outloud.

Setanta didn’t have much time to consider the strange situation because the gnome was approaching him, and they were closing the distance rather quickly.

"Ho there!" announced the gnome, "Who are you and what's your business with all of this?"

Setanta looked at the gnome. He was small, like all gnomes, and disheveled looking. He had a strange energy around him, like he had too many cups Calimshan bitter black tea. The gnome was wiry and looked like he needed a bath.

But then, Setanta thought, don’t I as well? Doesn’t anyone who has been on the road, killing time by inspecting piles of dead orcs?

Scrutinizing the gnome caused Setanta to take a look at himself. He was a little bit taller than average, but thicker, extremely well muscled with no excess flab. He had no hair anywhere on his body, was wearing reinforced leather armor and carried a sword belted to his hip. He had picked up a spear off of a dead orc to use as a walking stick, and he wore a backpack and boots. He hadn’t taken a bath in days. All in all, Setanta realized that he was pretty grubby too, and that he probably looked pretty menacing as well, with the sword and spear and armor and all…

“AHEM!” said the gnome, regaining Setanta’s attention, “WHO are YOU and WHAT IS your BUSINESS out here?!”

“Ho and well met sir,” Setanta replied. “My name is Setanta. I have no business here, at least not per se. I was traveling and I came across the trail of a large group of orcs. Shortly thereafter, I came across the orcs, all as you see them now.”

The gnome listened intently from the cart, and the lizard regarded them both with what seemed to be an intelligent, if somewhat detached, stare. Well, it was a stare that looked intelligent for a big lizard pulling a gnome in a cart. The more he thought about it, the more strange the whole situation seemed.

“What is your name and what is your business?” Setanta asked the gnome.

[werebeargoddess]

Kieshe plopped down onto the bed. She wasn't in the least tired; it had simply been the excuse that she had used to get away from the people in the common room. She looked over to where her lute lay unceremoniously on a chair, got up, and put it carefully back into the case. Then she promptly plopped back down onto the bed. Nobody said being a bard was going to be easy.

Kieshe sighed into her pillow. That was one of the many things that her older brother had told her. Her brother, like her, was also a bard, and had been the person who had inspired her to be a bard in the first place. But safe to say, he was a much better bard than she was.

Kieshe resisted the sudden urge to pound her pillow and throw a fit. She had been a wandering bard for several years now. At first, she had made a fair piece of coin, and could afford to stay at the higher-class inns. But now, the only way she could find room and board was if she sang and played her lute. Oh, that was a fine way to live, at least at first. But as time went on, the locals who were staying at the inn as well began to demand that she sing more. The innkeepers began to demand better, longer, more complicated songs, for pay. Sometimes they would take pity on her because of her duel heritage, and would let her stay if she played only one or two songs.

Kieshe gave into the urge that she was getting and did pound her pillow, though she didn't throw a fit. That would attract unwanted attention. But dammit, she didn't want to live like this, going from tavern to inn, singing her heart out every night. Oh, she wanted to sing every night, but not for a bunch of rowdy drunks who wouldn't be paying as much attention to her song as they were to her. No, she wanted to follow a group of heroes, and be able to sing for them. They would actually be paying attention to her song, and not to how nice her chest looked.

Maybe I should go south, to Tethyr, she thought suddenly. But no, she couldn't do that. There were a large number of elves there. They might take the sight of her the wrong way, and would be antagonistic. But... she had always wanted to go farther south than where she was. And who knows, they might even appreciate having an amateur bard there. Someone might even take pity on her, and help her play her lute better. Who knows, an adventurer might even hear her and take her with them. Kieshe fell asleep with those thoughts still going around in her head.

Kieshe was up before anyone else, which worked to her advantage. She ate quickly, and was out the door of the inn when the first patrons were straggling downstairs for breakfast.

Kieshe walked briskly down the road. She got the occasional stares from passerby, but she ignored them. She no longer really cared what people though about her being a half-elf. People should just get used to it, in Kieshe's way of thinking. After a quarter-hour, she was walking through the gates of Athkatla, and entered the countryside.

Kieshe thought briefly of going to Trademeet, but decided against it. The High Mayor had liked her well enough, but the noble families, for some reason, didn't, and had demanded that she leave. She sighed briefly. She was never meant to do well in cities like that. Kieshe looked up then, and saw what looked like a red-shouldered hawk. She smiled. She loved all birds, especially birds-of-prey. She envied their freedom. She supposed, suddenly, that she could give up her life as a bard, and become a falconer. Then she shook her head. No, I won't do that. I won't make much of a living off that unless she became the falconer for a ruling family, and besides, she didn't want to take away a raptor's freedom just because she wanted to do something besides being a bard.

She was several hours out of Athkatla when she saw the smoke. If she remembered the countryside correctly, there weren't any cities that were this close to Athkatla, so the smoke must be coming from a farmhouse. Please, oh please let it not be because of bandits, she thought as she went towards the smoke.