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scurvgirl · 5 years ago

Text

Saar

Qunlat - danger; dangerous

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What? Two SoR updates within a week?? This is what happens when I don’t have work!

Interpretations of Falon’din and Elgar’nan belong to @feynites

Nimronyn (Memae), Sylmae (Mamae), Melarue, Merith, Henne’thel, Daern’thal belong to @justanartsysideblog

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“Asha’thylgar was lost due to Commander Zeal’s shortsightedness. He refused to listen to my council when I advised him to send for more reinforcements to ensure our position,” Certainty declares in front of his lord and the lord Elgar’nan. He has been punished for his failure to bring Asha’thylgar in to pay for her crimes, thoroughly punished. The wounds have only closed this morning after a healer was brought in to make him “meeting worthy”. His bones were mended, skin stitched back together. But it is his lord’s right to punish him, he failed. The loss of the Fear spirit also displeased Lord Falon’din, but all things can be repaired.

“Is this true, Zeal?” Elgar’nan asks, a halo of fire growing in size atop his head. Zeal pants, his hair and large swaths of skin have been burned from him - and not entirely from Elgar’nan either. Asha’thylgar’s keeper had torn through the camp with her flames and magic. Certainty now bore his own scar down his back from the fire. No matter, the scar will fuel him just as his Lord’s desire for Asha’thylgar.

“Certainty failed to express the seriousness of the solution -

“Enough of these excuses! Both of you FAILED! SPECTACULARLY!” Elgar’nan booms, rising from his throne. Falon’din remains on his, watching, blue eyes darting from Zeal to Certainty. His facade wavers for just a moment, giving Certainty a glimpse of the horror of his burned face.

Even with the burns, Certainty’s lord is more beautiful than any other person to have ever existed.

“My Lord,” Certainty says, falling to his knees in abject prostration, “It is my every privilege and love of life to serve you. Beat me, break me, and I will come back stronger and more dedicated to you than before. I will bring Asha’thylgar to you, I swear it with my very blood.” He trails a sharpened claw over his palm so that blood flows, binding him to his vow.

With extreme grace, Lord Falon’din rises from his repose.

“It is so difficult to find loyalty like yours, Certainty.” He runs a finger down Certainty’s face before raising his hand, pressing the finger into the blood. Certainty gasps but does not grimace at the pain. Relish in it, it is what the Lord wishes.

“Is what you say true? Is the failure to secure Asha’thylgar due to Zeal?” A heavy question and one that Certainty answers with ease.

“Yes.”

Falon’din straightens and turns to Zeal. His hand reaches out and secures around Zeal’s neck.

“FALON’DIN!” Elgar’nan shouts.

“I AM OWED!” Falon’din roars back as the life is pulled out of Zeal. Falon’din inhales as if he is breathing in Zeal’s life force. Perhaps he is, Certainty doesn’t know. What he does know is that Falon’din has granted him another chance.

And he will make the most of it. Asha’thylgar can elude him for only so long.

When Ash was a little girl, before her magic manifested, her and Mama had to cross the Frostback mountains into Ferelden. She doesn’t remember much from the trip other than it was bitterly cold. She clung to Mama the entire time inside of her cloak. She whined and cried about the cold. It felt like it was invading her body and there was nothing she could do. Inescapably cold.

On her seventeenth birthday, a volcano erupted from the magical torsion in the Fade that now merged fully with the waking world. The ash and soot shot up from the eruption blocked the sun. The next month was spent freezing and cut off from the main source of heat. She huddled with Uthvir, trying to stay warm. The cold only abated when the sky was set aflame and the end of the world was further hastened.

Ash has experienced cold. She knows it causes deep issues within her, even with her fire. Perhaps it is because of her fire that the cold affects her so much. She has experienced cold, and yet this chill is unlike all of the cold that has touched her.

This cold slips inside of her spine, wraps a hand around it as a voice whispers unknowable words in her ear. She feels the cold spread into her body, chasing the heat that normally courses through her body. Mamae shifts in discomfort while Ash grimaces in pain.

“Da’len?” Mamae asks and Ash waves her off. She is no stranger to pain.

“I don’t handle the cold well,” she says softly, “I’ll be fine.” Just as she says that, Nimronyn opens her mouth and golden fire spills out, blowing back due to their momentum. It curves over the barrier, chasing away the invading chill. Ash feels a hiss and pop where the cold had been leaching into her body. It slithers away, replaced by the familiar, comforting warmth of Memae’s fire.

Ash inhales and exhales a directed flame towards Memae in gratitude. The small blue flicker travels up and circles around Memae’s antlers before dissipating along her scales. She rumbles in affectionate acknowledgement that makes Ash smile briefly before turning her attention to the pulsating black mass of sucking energy. It pulls at Ash and a deep seated worry takes root.

Demons, Nanae once said, are corrupted spirits. They corrupt for a number of reasons, each one unique to that demon. Most corruptions are situational and dependent upon what the spirit embodied - a spirit of wisdom can turn to pride if its knowledge is never questioned, or if it remains in isolation, or perhaps if it decides that it can fix the world. They were fond of that analogy. Looking back, Ash understands why.

But this mass of negative energy is unlike anything she has ever encountered. Besides its massive size, the demon feels different. It should have been a Keeper, which...what could have happened to this spirit that was on the brink of turning into an immensely powerful being like a Keeper to turn it into...this? The idea terrifies her, but she also feels for it too. It must have been so horrible and traumatic to do this. As much as she fears the great beast before her, she can’t help but feel for it as well. A part of her recognizes that she could have easily been this - terrible and dark and lashing out in pain due to her trauma. It’s only because her adoptive mothers found her that she was able to work past it, to grow from her ashes instead of continuing to burn.

“Lock into formation to bolster the barrier!” A shout from another aravel interrupts Ash’s thoughts, making her realize they are about to breach the living darkness. It’s strange, for something so dangerous, it seems...so inviting.

Ash brings her spear forward, holding onto it so that her thumbs run over specific runes for barrier creation. She forces her magic into the spear then out to join the many others also lending their strength for the barrier. Their combined magic sets into a lattice pattern over the existing barrier, reinforcing it just as they breach the darkness.

It is not like nightfall, there is no gradual loss of light. It is a sudden, all encompassing void that leaves Ash temporarily blind as her eyes adjust.

Chanting reaches her ears then several small lights materialize inside the barrier around the aravels. Those not lending their strength to the barrier are lighting the way, she realizes, or at least keeping a light so that everyone can see what is happening.

What Ash first saw as one giant entity becomes clearer as really a mass of negative energy and spirits, colliding and separating in chaotic fashion. Their forms split then reform, and they scream as they hurtle through space so fast they nearly shatter. Several of the spirits, lesser demons, she recognizes as Rage and Despair, careen towards the barrier at breakneck speeds. They do not slow and shatter themselves upon the barrier.

“What is this?” Ash asks in disbelieving horror.

“Keepers cannot corrupt once they are corporeal, but they can corrupt still as spirits. It’s a delicate time. When what was corrupted into Desolation, it created a nexus of negative magical energies - spirits that came into contact with it are twisted and trapped. Turned into unwilling demons that further feed Desolation’s own power.” Sylmae’s voice is low and harsh but it does not escape Ash’s notice that there is concern there. She doesn’t imagine it is for Desolation per se, but more for Nimronyn.

Ash’s brow furrows. Spirits can be such delicate things with their natures. A tip in the wrong direction and they can corrupt or even shatter. Those that become Keepers are old and strong, true, but that fear of corruption...it stays, doesn’t it? Does Mamae fear Memae will corrupt still with all the fighting?

Worse, could it happen? Is that what the madness is? The Keepers corrupting as they go against their natures?

Unwilling to continue this line of thinking, Ash directs her attention to the swirling mass of demons. More shatter upon impact of the barrier as they continue to fly in deeper. While the barrier keeps the lesser demons out, she can hear them. Screaming spirits who assume misshapen faces that press against the barrier before they crack and shatter, begging for help. Poor, lost spirits sucked into Desolation’s pit.

Ash hazards a glance up and nearly loses formation with the barrier. While the barrier is keeping all the aravels and those within it safe, the Keepers are left exposed. The demons crash into Memae, screaming and clawing at her. Fire flies across her scales, chasing them off but only more replace those that fall off or shatter. She shakes her head, the talismans hanging from her antlers jerking around as she somehow continues her steady flight.

“Mamae!” Ash cries but Sylmae is already gone, leaping onto aravels and scaling them so she can get to Memae.

“Hold your position!” She shouts down to Ash as she climbs, one hand propelling her upwards while the other holds tightly to her weapon. Ash takes a deep breath and locks herself back into position, pushing more energy into the barrier. Her fire skitters across the lattice work, shattering several more lesser demons. She glances up to see Mamae leaping into the air and breaching the barrier to grab hold of Memae’s foot. Ash keeps herself from hollering in victory as Sylmae begins to swing demons and spirits off of Memae. She clambers up onto Memae’s back properly and the hammer begins to swing in full arcs, felling multiple demons with each swing.

The barrier rocks and Ash nearly stumbles, her gaze going down as she rights herself. Merith is fairing no better than Memae, worse actually. A cloud of green tinged air surrounds him that Ash recognizes as poison but poison does so little to those without bodies. Ash is about to call for someone to help him when a flash of black of fire barrels past her only to land on the aravel below hers.

Melarue. They are shrouded in a black flame as they leap from aravel to aravel, weapon raised high. It is a spear-like thing, their weapon, with a wicked blade attached resembles the end of a sword at one end. They launch themselves down to Merith and disappear into a sea of black.

Fear pulses through Ash. Has she lost them again? Only having just found them? They have not reconciled or -

There! She seems them! An incredibly fast figure battling the dark back with their own black fire. It wraps around the demons, yanking them from Merith and tossing them into the barrier. Their weapon glints by the light provided by the barrier as they carve into the demons. They are fast and meticulous as they clean Merith of the clawing fiends.

Reassured, Ash returns her focus to the barrier. It is becoming more difficult to maintain as more and more demons throw themselves against it. Each hit drains it just a bit more. How long can they keep this up? There is no end in sight of this horrid place, and if anything, it is getting worse.

The demons stop shattering upon impact and instead begin to wail upon the barrier, ghostly talons and fangs and wings ripping into it. She funnels another burst of fire into it, but it does little to stem the tide. Few demons die from it, none shatter.

“We need more power!” She shouts over the roars of the Keepers and the screams of the demons.

“From where?!” Henne’thel shouts back to her from her central aravel.

From where, indeed. She racks her brain, thinking…

“Blood!”

“Are you insane! The demons draw power from that!” Henne’thel shouts, clearly straining as she carriers the bulk of the barrier.

“So can we! If you can hold it, I can send out a pulse of fire to get us through!”

“Are you sure!”

“Yes!”

“Then fucking do it!” Henne’thel screams.

“Letting the barrier go,” Ash yells before she steps back. Immediately the weight shifts off her and Henne’thel groans loudly, a draconic sound as she takes on more of the barrier. Only for a moment, Ash reminds herself, grabbing the knife from her belt.

Taking a deep breath, Ash slices her palm and begins to recite a spell her nanae taught her.

“I didn’t know you had fire!”

“It’s a Fade Fire, da’len, now pay attention.”

She harnesses the memory and the spell inside of her. The power concentrates in her palm, a hot white sphere she guides to her spear. Carefully, she eases the spear forward just so that the tip reaches outside of the barrier.

Using all the force inside her body, she forces that sphere of power out through her spear.

It explodes from her and the spear into the inky air. A blazing white supernova tinged red with her blood. Magic shots from her and blazes through the demons in an arc surrounding barrier. It A great pulse of fiery magic that sends the demons up in smoke or flying from them in terror.

Drained and needing to catch her breath, Ash stumbles back, her spear retreating from the outside.

“Good, Ash! Now back in formation!” Henne’thel calls. Right, she has to help. With a groan and a set determination that is not so easily overwhelmed, Ash rises to her feet and resumes the position. Her magic joins the others to hold the barrier together. The shift is painful but quick, locking her into the system again.

A glance down shows that her burst of fire helped Melarue as well. They need only shove off the remains of demons from Merith’s hide. There are wounds all over Merith’s body that they quickly set to bandaging. A glance upward reveals a similar scene for Memae, but she seems to be in a better position overall. There is less blood sliding down her sides and there are no large wounds. Relief courses through Ash. They will survive this, this is only the trial before the promised land - quite literally.

The journey to Skyhold had been fraught as well. Haven had never been a secure location, which had only been exploited by the Red Templars lead by a mad, Blighted Corypheus who knew far more than they ever gave him credit for. She had nearly lost her mama that day to the avalanche she caused. Nanae had to carry her, screaming and crying to not leave Mama behind, away from the battle.

It was over a week before he had taken them to Skyhold, and even longer clearing the rubble to make it somewhat livable. For all its faults, Skyhold had been amazing. It was big enough for an army and defensible. In the end, it fell because he knew it so well.

This land they are traveling to is unknown to their enemies. It is far, far from the empire and from anyone that would interfere with their growth and resistance. It may not be entirely true, but when all you have is hope, you have to hope hard to get through the worst of it. Right now, speeding through a maelstrom of demons with only a barrier maintained by a couple dozen people, she needs all the hope she can get.

A great quake shakes Ash from her thoughts and pulls her attention to her surroundings once more. The darkness around them opens up, keening as it is pulled into a singular nexus below them.

“She’s here!” Henne’thel yells and Ash knows - they approach Desolation.

Another quake rocks the barrier and the Keepers grumble with discontent and worry. The shadows move, twining up over the barrier - long tentacles curving over the sphere. Magical weight presses against Ash, making her grunt at the strain. She’s pulling them down, Ash realizes. Or at least she is attempting to pull them. Memae hisses and her wings snap more quickly. All at once, fire chases the shadowy tendrils, snapping much of their hold. Nimronyn roars once more and begins to ascend. Merith issues a replying roar and follows Nimronyn. The aravels rock at the sudden direction shift, but Ash and the others hold fast, maintaining the barrier.

They fly high, up, up to escape the reaching tentacles when a roar shakes the world around them and a great mass smashes into the barrier. Unable to withstand the sudden onslaught, the barrier shatters.

When Fear saw an opportunity to escape Certainty and his lackeys, it took it. The night Asha’thylgar attacked, its cage was damaged, allowing it to shrink into the tiniest form it could then scurry away in frantic escape. It ran even as it knew that the chances for capture were high. It ran and ran and flew so much and so fast that it wasn’t until days later that it realized that no one had come after it.

It had stopped, looked around - no one was pursuing it.

Fear was...free?

Unsure of what to do with this newfound freedom, Fear continued to fly. To put more distance between it and the empire, just to be safe. It could be wrong, after all, they could be pursuing it and just biding their time. Fear wasn’t going to risk it.

It flew and flew until it felt her. As soon as it felt her, it tried to turn in the other direction, but like a fish caught in a whirlpool, struggle was futile. Little Fear was sent into the mass of Desolation. It was all it could do to keep from the other demons caught in her storm. It was flung through the air, ricocheting off of spikes in power and abnormalities in the Dreaming. It tried to escape, over and over again, to no avail. The pull was too strong.

Soon, it found itself being pulled into the nexus, spiraling down...down…

Chaos erupts with the shattered barrier. The once carefully held aravels go spinning, their magicks no longer tethered to each other. Ash’s aravel spins and careens downwards, a shadowy tendril shooting up and grasping her aravel.

“No!” She shouts, stabbing her spear into the tentacle and sending forth her fire. It screams and sizzles but holds fast.

“Fuck off!” She summons a white hot whip of fire and slams it into the tendril. It screeches and blessedly releases its hold. Before Ash can set to righting the aravel, three more tendrils shoot up. They seize the aravel and begin to tear it to shreds in its anger. Ash springs into action, summoning as much fire as she dares to fight the tendrils. But as she fights, she cannot right the quickly descending aravel. And if she rights the aravel, it gets torn apart. It very well may be torn apart anyways.

A roar of draconic pain catches her ear before she can decide anything. Her head automatically snaps up to see shadowed tentacles wrapping around Merith’s body, pulling him down. Melarue stands upon him, slashing and burning the tentacles but there are too many, Merith is too grand of a target -

Decided, Ash backs up to the hull of the aravel and angles her spear downward. Focusing on the Dreaming and the will to go, she sets the spear ablaze. The thrust is immediate and the aravel speeds through the air, wrenching itself free of the tendrils. The sail is shredded and the cabin has been opened to the world but she is ascending and it’s holding, that’s all that matters.

She directs the aravel close to a thick tentacle then whips her spear around while continuing the strong blaze of fire. It slams into the tentacle and she forces the fire down it, severing it and its hold on Merith. One down. She looks for and finds another tentacle, wrapped around Merith’s back leg. Melarue is fighting one that keeps trying to secure his neck -

Ash goes for the one on the leg, quickly attacking and severing it so she can take aim for the other tentacle. She sends a blast of fire farther down the tentacle, severing it. Melarue untangles it from Merith’s neck, then runs along his back to hack at more of the tendrils now trying to widen his wounds.

“For fuck’s sake,” Ash groans, casting fire as close to Merith as she dares. Her aravel rocks and starts to descend once more. Shit. She can’t keep the aravel up and fight the damned tentacles at the same time.

Somehow sensing her conflict, Melarue turns from their task for the briefest moment, “Let it go! Get up here!” They shout. Shit. Ash backs up only to run and leap across the space between the aravel and Merith.

For a brief moment, she feels the pull of gravity and wonders if she won’t make it - only to collide with Merith’s paw. Holding fat, Ash clambers up to his back to aid Melarue in ridding the Keeper of his assailants. She sweeps her spear down across his flank, slicing into a tentacle. It begins to writhe so she sets it aflame. Black fire joins hers for a moment then redirects to another tentacle, engulfing it.

Black and blue flames dance over Merith’s scales, and together they manage to push the tentacles far enough off to allow him to fly upward to rejoin the others. Ash doesn’t dare look up to see what is going on, lest she be distracted from the task at hand, but she hears another dragon’s roar and knows that Henne’thel must have taken on her draconic shape.

Ash and Melarue are on their knees as Merith’s ascends, looking for some stability even as they sweep their weapons down and out to the still reaching tentacles. They’re back to back, fighting, not unlike how she always pictured her nanae and mama fighting together - closing rifts and dispatching Red Templars.

A tentacle whips out and smacks Melarue hard enough to send them sprawling. They grunt and slide down Merith’s hide.

“No!” Ash shouts and lunges, stretching herself so that she straddles Merith’s spine as she reaches for and grabs Melarue’s hand. She grimaces at the stretch, but she has them, she’s not losing them. “Climb up me, I can’t pull you up!” She grinds out and they set to pulling themselves back to Merith’s steady back over Ash’s body. They pull and tug but it’s over quickly as they settle themselves back onto Merith.

“Thank you,” they breathe. She nods, still regaining her breath and trying not to pay too much attention to the aching stretch in her side and groin. She reaches out and touches their arm in acknowledgement.

The tentacles amazingly recede into the darkness below, allowing Merith to fly even faster. They’re so close to rejoining the others, and with the tentacles gone, Ash looks up.

Nimronyn and Henne’thel have managed to gather most of the aravels back between them, a new haphazard barrier surrounding them all. Sylmae is still astride Nimronyn, fighting off tentacles herself. Daern’thal of all people sits atop Henne’thel, but instead of fighting the tentacles, he seems to be casting what looks to be wide nets to pull in stray aravels.

She rests a hand on Merith, feeling his pain and determination to reach the rest of the clans. They just need to get through this and then he can rest. She suspects the other Keepers will need to rest as well.

Ash is contemplating how much farther they have to go to escape Desolation when she feels it. A great magical pull that snaps her attention to in front of Merith’s head. The biggest tentacle yet shoots up from the dark, larger than any of the Keepers and arcs down, too fast for Merith to dodge -

The tentacle slams into Merith. Ash is thrown violently from his back and she screams, unable to hold onto her spear. She flies through the air, accelerating downward into the darkness while Merith roars and Melarue yells. Everything is moving so fast, it’s hard to keep track of where she is and where the others are -

A wing clips her, redirecting her right into Melarue.

She smashes into them with a broken scream. The base of her right horn collides right into their face and she feels more than hears the snap of their nose breaking. They clutch at each other, trying to hold onto something sturdy even as they plummet.

“Stop! Stop!” Ash cries, moving her grasp to their hands. “Force fire out of your feet!” She screams, their position shifting until they are falling belly first. Dammit, wrong position. Ash tries to reangle herself so that they’re falling feet-first. Her and Melarue both strain for the feat, and once in that position - fire!

They don’t stop plummeting right away, the fire while being forced down, comes up around them in a swirling mass of black and blue. Purple eyes meet bright silver ones and for a moment, she feels so close to death’s doorstep she swears she is finally going to cross over. She could curse it. How long has she thrown herself carelessly towards death? How often has she come so close, waiting to be reunited with her family, only to live? And now that she wants to live, she dies?

The universe can fucking suck it, she decides, and forces more power out of herself until there is nothing left. The fire burns brighter and brighter until it is no longer black and blue but black and white that surrounds them - and then it doesn’t surround them, but propels them up!

Melarue smiles and even with the blood running down their face, they look so much like her nanae in that moment it makes her heart ache and spurr her to continue the flame. She, they, can do this. Together.

“Not sssooo fasssssst!” A thunderous voice echoes around them. All light save for her white flames flash out, leaving them in the dark. In a breath, what feels like a great hand seizes Melarue and Ash and forces them down. Ash’s concentration breaks and her fire goes out. They fall, fall -

Stop.

The sudden cease of falling jars them, jerking them back until it is like they are on their knees on the ground, looking up -

To the face of a monster.

Her glowing orange eyes are the size of aravels, peering down at them in hated curiosity. Shades and other demons trapped from her nexus make up the rest of her “face”, writhing and opening their own eyes to gaze upon Ash and Melarue. In hope? In fear?

“You daaaare enter my realm!”

“We mean only to pass through,” Melarue says.

“Ssssilenccce!” Desolation booms. “You will not take them from me! They are MINE!” A shade detaches itself from Desolation’s face and launches itself at Melarue, claws extended. She can see them struggle and know from her own immobility they cannot move -

“Stop! Please! It...It was my idea to come through here!” She shouts and the Shade stops just short of Melarue before turning its attention to her, its eyes burning orange. It slinks toward her, growling low.

“Ashokara!”

“Shut up!” She hisses back to Melarue even as they glower and fight against their restraints.

“Whyyy?” Desolation hisses, “You can’t have them!”

“You were going to be Keeper, right? You weren’t always like this,” Ash says, “when I heard that, I thought how could someone so great fall so far? What happened to you? Who, what hurt you?”

“Ssshut up!” She screams.

Ash continues, “You lost them, didn’t you? They were taken from you, the people you were meant to Keep. They were taken from you!”

“ENOUGH!” Desolation quakes with power and the Shade leaps forward, wrapping its claws around Ash’s throat. She gasps and feels its darkness slip into her mind.

“You’re all mine, now! Mine!” She wants Ash’s memories? She can have them!

Ash opens her mind like a book and remembers her world, burning and dying all around her. She remembers running from a collapsing Skyhold, an explosion taking her mama and then her nanae. She remembers having to let Aili go to plummet to her death. She remembers Uthvir’s shout for her to run as they twisted themselves into a more monstrous version of themselves. She remembers how the corruption overwhelmed even them. She lets Desolation see and feel it all.

“WHAT IS THISSSSSS?” Desolation wails. It’s only when Ash opens her eyes does she realize she had closed them. To her amazed horror, her memories play in the clouds of darkness around her. Not just the world burning though, but precious memories of Nanae tucking her into bed, reading to her. Mama singing to her as they walked along a flowering path in Orlais. Uthvir showing her how to properly hold a spear and stealing apple cakes from the kitchens with Aili. Krem giving her a soft dragon plush that has purple eyes just like hers. Dorian reading magical texts aloud to her because she always struggled with the words.

Mama and Nanae coming home and sweeping her into a hug, telling her they love her.

Love and heartbreak paint each memory and Desolation seems...enthralled by them.

“I lost them all too,” Ash says quietly, “because someone thought they knew how to fix the world and destroyed it instead. I lost...everyone I loved. I wanted to die for a long time, to see them again.” Desolation shifts so that her face is mere inches from Ash’s.

“Why didn’t you?” The question is softer than the screams from before and asked so...earnestly. It makes Ash’s heart hurt - this creature is not so different from her, is she?

“Some amazing people showed me it’s possible to love again. I still love all of them, and I love new people - as long as I am alive...I can love, and I can grow. And so can you.”

Desolation...blinks and the orange gives way to a soft blue. The demons still. One falls off, then another, and another. Or they’re released, Ash doesn’t know, all she knows is that Desolation isn’t what she seems. All this pain, all this rage - she is the product of what something did to her and she survived the only way she knew how.

“Who were you?” Ash asks, “what happened to you?”

Instead of replying, new memories begin to play around them. A beautiful, verdant field stretches out before them and in it rests a clan with a truly radiant Keeper. Their scales are an iridescent shade of green and instead of horns, two large frills crown their head and run the entire length of their serpentine body. She knows somehow that they were Patience, a softer spirit that took the form of a Keeper many, many years ago. She sees another spirit, a beautiful blue spirit of...Love. And Love loved the clan so much, she loved this Keeper too. As time stretched on, she grew more powerful and Patience waited for her while she gained enough power to become a Keeper herself. A clan with two Keepers - it was always the goal, and they were so close.

The memories swirl and rage and despair taint the images. A foreign force with no Keeper arrived, two elves astride harts approached Patience. Elves Ash recognize as Mythal and Elgar’nan, though younger and not nearly as powerful as she knows them. They brought Patience to talks under the guise of peace and then...slaughtered them. When their people railed against this, they too were slaughtered.

Love...lost everything, lost their love, lost what tethered her to the world. She felt her power was immense and so she laid waste to the Empire’s camp, she burned it and with each soul she took, she corrupted further and further. She wanted to shatter, she wanted to break, but couldn’t. So she flung herself to this far corner of the Dreaming to wallow, corrupting further and further until she didn’t recognize herself.

“You will always love them, you will always be Love,” Ash says to her, “they will always remember you as Love.” Testing the boundaries, Ash attempts to move her arm and finds she can. With her limited mobility, she reaches up and touches Desolation’s face that is now just shadow with the demons having fled.

A corrupted spirit cannot revert back to what it was previously, but it can change into something new, something...different. Desolation closes its eyes for the last time...to open them as Hope. Ash smiles, tears rolling down her face. That is always the first step, isn’t it? Hoping to move forward.

The darkness slowly dissipates and Hope’s form shifts from shadows to a sheer dark blue. Her hands come up under Ash and Melarue and they rise.

Nimronyn is diving and flying as fast she can when Ash spies her. “Memae!” She calls and Forgiveness turns, holding Ash and Melarue out to the searching Keeper.

Memae turns just as fast as she can, her jaw opening to release fire -

“Memae, no! She’s different now!” Ash calls, waving for her to stop. Her mouth doesn’t close but it doesn’t open any more than it already is. She stops just short of colliding with Hope’s face. The two stare at each other while Mamae leans down and helps Ash and Melarue to Memae’s back.

“Come quickly. Vhenan, we need to go, Merith can’t hold it for long,” Mamae says in Nimronyn’s ear. Clearly not happy about it, Memae turns and flies back to the aravels.

Ash, feeling the exhaustion and relief in equal measures flow through her, turns to look back at Hope. She winks and mimes blowing a kiss, but when she blows, a great magical wind catches them all. Ash yips in surprise to find them flying through the Dreaming - her, Memae, the aravels, Henne’thel, Merith, everyone - until they are at the edge of where they were to exit Desolation’s realm.

Memae works her wings quickly to orient herself.

“What did you do?” Mamae asks bewildered, staring at Ash.

Before Ash can say anything, Melarue answers, “She helped the spirit, who just helped us, it seems.”

They then take a moment to look around them. The sky is a brilliant shade of indigo, the land below is catching the dying sunlight but there is enough for Ash to know where they are.

“Glittering wildflowers,” she murmurs.

They made it. They’re home.

#my writing #seeker of rebellion au #ashokara #nimronyn #sylmae #melarue #merith #henne'thel #daern'thal #elgar'nan #falon'din #fear #fic

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aggie-the-poet · 6 years ago

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The Ceremony

Chapter One: The Ceremony

Goddess Tears Masterlist

Summary: The reader is of elven heritage, living within the city of Danu’s Garden. Working as one of the magistrature representatives, the reader is called to council on account of foreign visitors of Asgard coming to negotiate an alliance in such dire times. The elven people give their greatest asset to aid in the war, but not willingly. A frustrated reader finds solace in the sly prince of Asgard.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: mild swearing, snarkiness, sassy Loki

Word Count: 2857 (I know it’s long oops! This one just has a lot of lore, but the next chapters will probably be shorter.)

Author’s Note: I based the elven culture on parts of my own. Some of the language between the elves are in gaelic, so I’ll translate them in the beginning for reference. I tried making context clues to have it seem understandable and natural.

Also, this is set after Ragnarok but before Infinity War. Pretend the horrors of Infinity War never happened! This is going to be like the set up of Infinity War where Thor finds more people to help defeat Thanos.

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Go raibh maith agat- may you have goodness (thank you)

Vinok- a floral wreath worn as a crown during special occasions

Is é mo theach do theach- my home is your home

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Church bells are ringing off in the distance. I wonder which priest will be performing the ceremony today. There’s a lingering scent of bonfire smoke in the air, causing a smile within me. Great fires are to be lit today, for today is one to be written in the history books. Today is to bring peace to our lands, to end the discrimination against our people at last.

Rising from my cot, I stretch my arms and legs. My bones crack with a satisfactory pop, and a yawn is expelled from my mouth. Once I stand up, I ground myself and step outside my tent. Only a few others are up already. I always was an early bird. I nod happily to the others awake, taking note of their determination in training. This should be a pleasant day far from the fighting. I suppose some folks just need to be prepared at all times. It’s a bad idea to become too comfortable, especially soldiers. We’re always on the move, anyways.

I decide to head down to the church to make myself useful. The ministers always need help in one form or another. I take the longer route, enjoying the feeling of the breeze swaying me back and forth. Once I make it to the church I greet Merith, a young man training under the head priest.

“Yahey, Y/n! It’s wonderful to see you on such a fantastic day!” Merith shines, bowing his head before making his way over to me.

“Indeed. I’m sure you’re all on your toes today. We’re all a tad nervous, but I have the highest of hopes. Anyways, I came to offer my assistance.” I offer.

“Go raibh maith agat, Y/n. You’re too kind to us. Fortunately, some of the local children are helping us set up decorations. The priests are preparing for the morning ritual, but the others and I are left to deliver blessed vinoks to today’s participants. There’s not much for you to help with here, truthfully, but I’m sure you’re well needed at the city’s council.” Merith chuckles, generating a grumble from myself.

“I know. That’s partially why I offered my help. I know how swamped I’ll be later, so I was hoping you could take up my time before the council finds me.” I explain.

“Well,” Merith starts. “You are our representative of magickal defenses. And today is going to be the day you’re most needed so I wouldn’t get your hopes up on escaping them for long. They know how early you rise as well.”

“Stop teasing! I can’t help it; I just get so restless.” I slump defeatedly.

“Uh oh, you may want to hide behind the shrubbery if you don’t want to get caught.” Merith points out. “You know who is on his way over here.” Immediately, I dive into the bushes beside Merith. The thorns scrape all over my face, but nothing is worse than getting caught by Ettrian, the representative of Queen Fennore.

“Y/n, get out of the damn garden. I saw you jump in there, you know. I have eyes.” Ettrian glares. I simply poke my head out, not fully committing to leaving the safety of the bushes.

“C’mon, sir. Please don’t make me go just yet! I want to enjoy my last bit of freedom before my work really starts.” I plead with a trembling lip. None of this works on Ettrian of course.

“Out. Now.” He states bluntly.

“Fine…” I exit the shrubbery and adjust my clothing and give Merith an apologetic look before following Ettrian to the palace. The walk is long, silent, and awkward. So to lighten the mood I offer up a conversation.

“So are you excited for the big day, sir?”

“I suppose. Admittedly, I would’ve preferred to have us stay in isolation for the rest of our days. As long as we’re away from the fighting, we won’t have a war on our hands.” He replies.

“Well, you can’t fully expect such a war to stay away from us forever. These people visiting spoke quite desperately about it, stating it was a matter that affects all beings in the universe. If that is true, we can’t just watch idly.” I state quite passionately.

“Hm. I have no doubt someone of your status would want a war at any time.” Ettrian snaps coldly.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I stop and glare.

“Y/n! I’m so happy to see you on such a momentous day! Please, come inside.” Queen Fennore quickly grabs my hand and leads me inside the back sunroom of the palace. I don’t speak, as Ettrian’s statement still flutters around my head. I look up to see her staring at me with a frown. “Don’t pay any mind to him. He means well, but he’s not exactly the lightest of persons.”

“No kidding,” I reply, walking to the open window. I close my eyes and smell the fresh flowers being delivered to every citizen. The scent takes me back to my childhood, before the days I knew the harsh reality of war and peace.

“Are you nervous about today?” My queen asks me softly. I simply nod, not looking at her just yet. “I’m not quite sure what the diplomats will be looking for in us, but we must give them our best if the situation is truly as dangerous as they said it was. I don’t believe these men would be asking for… our help if it wasn’t so.”

“It’s just so unfair. We’re a peaceful civilization, yet we’re dragged into petty war time after time.” I finally look her in the eyes. Her golden iris glows with the incoming sunlight. She brushes her long dark hair to one side and steps towards me. She reaches out and touches my face with her lithe fingers.

“I fear they will ask too much of us… of you,” Queen Fennore whispers with a pained look.

“I’m prepared to make any sacrifice necessary for the sake of our people.” I proudly state.

“I know, but you’ve always been the one sacrificing everything. It should be someone else for once.” She pleads.

“No one else can. You know I’m the only one they’ll need.” I take her shoulders into my hand and give a soft squeeze. I smile falsely, trying to show content with our future.

“I know I must let you go yet again… but you will be missed greatly. Not just by me, but by the people as well.” My queen informs me. This causes a genuine grin to creep onto my lips.

“Even Ettrian?” I joke.

“Yes! Especially Ettrian! He secretly finds you charming, you know?” She jokes back. We both share one last laugh before heading to our changing rooms.

Queen Fennore wears her most elegant gown, paired with her jeweled headdress. I, on the other hand, am forced to wear the most horrendous robe. It’s far too loose for any swift mobility, and it’s all black, symbolic of mystery and magick. I would much prefer to wear my armor, but today is perhaps our last day of peace, therefore all armor and weapons must be stashed away.

“You look beautiful, my queen.” I admire Queen Fennore. A light blush dashes across her face.

“As do you, Y/n.” She offers. I nod, taking her arm and leading her to the entrance of the palace. Almost all the citizens will be awake by now, most definitely waiting by the palace gates awaiting their queen.

“Take a deep breath, Y/n. I fear I may hold mine this entire day.” She grabs my arm tighter as we approach the doors.

“Relax, my queen. Today is to be that of celebration. All will be well.” I reassure her, and with that, the grand front doors are swung open. We’re met by thousands of smiling faces, young and old, all come to relish their queen on this momentous day.

No guards are needed to keep people back from the queen. Everyone knows enough to offer Queen Fennore her respective space. People cheer and whistle from a comfortable distance away from us, offering the occasional flower or hand to shake. Queen Fennore makes it a point to accept every gift and touch every hand lent her way. She always was such a people-driven queen. The support and safety of the people was always her main concern. For that, she is truly loved by all her people. It takes us over an hour to finally get to the center of the city, where the ceremony is to be held. There, we await the arrival of our expected guests. Not long after, a messenger runs along the path from the port.

“The princes have arrived, Queen Fennore!” He announces out of breath. A thunderous cheer erupts from the crowd around us. Flowers are thrown onto the pathway, veils are tossed up in the air, and people have begun dancing around in circles. In the short distance, I spot two looming figures strutting toward us.

“I present to you: The Princes of Asgard! Thor and Loki Odinson!” The messenger yells at the top of his lungs before reporting back into the crowd. The two Asgardians loom over our people, at least a head taller than everyone. Their broad shoulders contract to our slim features. They’re so foreign, and it unnerves me.

The bigger one walks ahead of his brother. His light hair is short and choppy, uncharacteristic of an Asgardian. Behind him, the brother with long raven hair glances around suspiciously. They both wear their armor, against our wishes.

Give them the benefit of the doubt, Y/n. I’m sure they wear armor as a formality. Don’t get angry. Don’t glare at them. Just be calm and smile politely.

“Welcome! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Odinsons.” Queen Fennore melodically greets the princes.

“Your majesty, it’s wonderful to meet you as well. I am Thor, and this is my brother Loki. We’re both so appreciative to be here with you all today.” The bigger one speaks up, extending his hand to the queen. She tenderly grips his hand, giving it a solid shake. Loki steps up next, silently shaking hands with the queen as well. Immediately, Queen Fennore turns to me and pulls me up to her side.

“This is my advisor in magickal affairs, Y/n. Say greetings, Y/n.” She whispers to me with stern eyes.

“A pleasure to meet you both. I look forward to working with you both.” I offer bluntly, but before they can reach out their hands, I snap a little. “I’m concerned seeing you both in armor, considering our agreement was to forbid all objects of war on this day.”

“Ah, yes… Well, we just like to be ready to defend at all times…” Thor awkwardly explains, shifting from foot to foot.

“As the head of defenses, I assure you no harm will come to you today. Understand that we feel quite at a disadvantage, seeing as how we’ve locked away all armor and weapons, leaving us open and vulnerable for you. Was this not the purpose of our celebration? Are we not in agreement on this?” I feel Queen Fennore grab my arm, giving it a tub to get me to let up.

“A little bit of armor won’t hurt anybody. Besides, you and your people still have your magickal abilities, no? Can’t quite stache that away, can you?” Loki suddenly shares his thoughts. My eyes narrow into his.

“The purpose of magick isn’t inherently for war. What you do with the magick is what counts.” I stand my ground.

“Based on that logic, a knife can’t kill you on its own. A murderer must accompany it for it to do harm.” Loki throws back with a smirk. What I’d do if only I could slap that smirk off his face.

“Alright, how about we go inside for our meeting. We’ve prepared a number of our best dishes for you all to enjoy. Let our peoples celebrate together while we sort things out. Follow me!” Queen Fennore quickly takes my hand and leads me away from the princes.

“I thought we were going to be on our best behavior today!” She scream-whispers at me. I can hear Thor doing the same to his brother, but I can’t quite make out what they’re saying.

“I was! I was simply pointing out their misunderstanding with their wardrobe.” I snark. We make it back to the palace and head to the dining room. There lie plates full of freshly prepared food. Vegetables and fruit, meat and bread, all laid out and ready to be eaten. We all take our seats, Queen Fennore and I sitting at one end of the table, Thor and Loki sitting at the other.

“What a lovely feast!” Thor praises.

“Please, enjoy!” Queen Fennore announces, yet I am in no mood to eat.

“What is it you want from us?” I inquire. Thor spats out the meat he stuffed into his mouth.

“Pardon?” He sheepishly looks at me.

“You called this peace treaty for a reason. Something is coming and you need our help in fighting it, correct? Then what is it you want from us?” I sternly press the issue.

“Y/n! Remember your manners!” My queen scolds me.

“Well, I suppose we need anything you can give us. Soldiers, supplies, hell a place to stay would be much appreciated.” Thor chuckles sadly.

“Soldiers we can’t afford to give. As you know, elves are hated all across the galaxy. We must preserve our forces in case of an invasion, which happens far too frequently. Supplies we can give, but only if there is enough to go around here first. As for a place to stay, wouldn’t Asgard be your preferred shelter?” I don’t give the queen a chance to answer. She’s far too polite in these circumstances for anything to get done for our benefit. However, I glance at her for approval. She simply nods and looks onto the princes.

“Asgard is… gone. All we have is our ship. This is all that is left of us.” Thor looks down in grief.

“Our sincerest apologies, your highness.” Queen Fennore offers. Thor smiles gratefully, but Loki looks unimpressed.

“That is a shame. Very well, Danu’s Garden will now act as a safe haven for the Asgardian people. Ettrian, inform the local representatives of this and tell them to open the shelters. Give the Asgardians beds, food, and water rations.” I order.

“Just like that? No questions asked?” Loki snaps suspiciously.

“There’s no need for further convincing. You’re now our closest allies, and if your people are in need we are more than willing to help.” I grin at the satisfaction of surprising Loki.

“Thank you so much! If you are ever in need, we shall offer you our help as well.” Thor stands in happiness, rushing over to the queen to shake her hand once more.

“Of course, your highness. Is é mo theach do theach.” My queen smiles warmly.

“I suppose you’ll need me as well,” I state sadly, knowing the queen wishes against this. “I can help you defeat what it is you’re up against.”

“What can you do to help?” Loki laughs bitterly.

“I’m the head magician of our people. I’ve mastered countless spells. I’ve won countless battles. I may not have the strength of an Asgardian, but my skills in battle are not to be taken lightly.” I glare across the table.

“Y/n is, by all means, the strongest of our people. We may not be able to sacrifice our numbers, but you’d have our greatest weapon.” Queen Fennore defends me. I cringe at the thought of being referred to as a weapon.

“Wonderful! We’re very grateful to have you then! Right, Loki?” Thor gives his brother a look. A sigh comes from his brother, followed by a confirming nod.

“That’s settled then. The earliest we can send you off is tomorrow morning. Will that suffice?” My queen offers.

“That will do well. We thank you for your generosity and hospitality.” Both brothers shake the queen's hands again, giving me only a small nod and awkward grin.

“Now, go. Be with your people and rejoice in the peace this one day!” Queen Fennore exclaims with false happiness. This seems to satisfy the princes as they head for the exit, leaving only myself and my queen.

“This isn’t the way it has to be.” She whispers, not daring to look me in the eyes.

“It must. I’m so sorry, my queen, but I must go. Whatever it is they face, I must fight it head on. I must protect you and our people in the best way I can. This is it.” I try to reason with her, but she’s having none of it.

“I know you must leave, but I don’t want to lose you.” She holds my hands and presses her forehead to mine.

“I promise I will return to you, my queen.” I mentally cross my heart, swearing to myself to not let Queen Fennore down.

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I hope you all like this new story! I wanted to try a different kind of fanfiction that has a lot more backstory and lore to it. I hope it’s not too much!

I love feedback, so comment your thoughts! My requests are also open, so feel free to send an ask!

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justanartsysideblog · 6 years ago

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Treachery

Treachery was Deceit, once, when Melarue was only Cunning.

So close that many believed they were twin-souls, always twining about one another, so in contrast to the Keeper Merith, who Cunning was inexplicably drawn to.

Merith’s death was the beginning of it all. His slow descent into madness, and Cunning beginning to corrupt into something else, only taking a body to keep from shattering in its grief and loss and helplessness at not finding a way to keep the madness at bay, or its origin.

A weaker spirit would have shattered, would have let itself break and be free of pain. But Cunning would not shatter, would not when it thought it could find a way to fix things, when it believed it could navigate this labyrinth of questions and loss and come out a victor in some fashion.

Cunning became Melarue, and everything changed.

Deceit remained Deceit, for a time, until the day Princess Sylaise arrived to pick up the remnants of Merith’s clan for her own. Sylaise sealed her own fate then, when she looked upon Melarue and found them pleasing, and commented about a burgeoning empire.

That is when Deceit became Treachery, when Melarue locked eyes with the princess, and they formed a plan of seduction and murder and revenge, because clever Melarue was still cunning deep down, and Princess Sylaise’ appearance had connected pieces of a puzzle that only they could see.

Only three people in the world knew that the Heartless Black Serpent’s plans began because of the loss of one they loved dearly; Melarue themselves, Treachery, and little Morwen, barely more than a child when his parents were slaughtered in Merith’s madness. Everyone else thought the Black Serpent desired power out of greed.

Reputation is important, and a reputation as someone cruel and mysterious and powerful can work wonders, even if it isn’t entirely true.

Treachery never suspected their own reputation would grow to such mythic proportions, especially after taking a body. So many rumors of their machinations and plots, of their deceitful and seducing whispers...it is nearly overwhelming at first.

But as they know so well, reputations are important. They let the image grow, let people believe what they want because there is no way to change what has happened, and there is a power in being believed so scheming and cunning.

It does hurt though, more than they care to admit.

Trust is...a difficult thing to earn. No one trusts Treachery, because how can one trust the embodiment of such a thing? Melarue knows, of course, lives with one foot in that same dark circle, but the other part of them does not. Melarue has their consorts, has Mirena, has their son.

Treachery has their flowers.

They have their own private garden in the middle of their estate, not far from the palace. They tend to it themselves, and speak to the blooms, tell them stories but never secrets, for Treachery knows the weight of a stolen secret. You cannot take back words that you never spoke, after all.

They have their vipers, the snakes that so many claim they embody. They collect brightly scaled ones, whose vibrant markings warn of danger and death, and keep them in large glass terrariums in their office. It is where they take those that need questioning, that need a little nudge, a little intimidation to loosen their tongues. It is enough, sometimes, to have them sit in that room and leave the top of one of those terrariums open.

Sometimes they leave the elf alone in that room, and let them discover that one of the terrariums is empty, and wait. The viper is always safely somewhere else, for Treachery would never let their precious pets come to harm, but those they interrogate do not know that. The fear of the unknown is a powerful force, can do so much more than brute strength.

Treachery knows that their flowers and their serpents are not a proper replacement for a person. They cannot talk back when Treachery asks them about their day. The little hole in their chest remains, and aches sometimes, especially when they wake in the middle of the night to some innocuous sound and the first thought that runs through their head is “I’m alone, no one would know I had died till morning” and the second thought of “no one would care”.

It is a lonely place, where Treachery finds home. A needed place, they know, but so very, very lonely.

#four kingdoms au #had to do a little something for treachery #because I love them #treachery #quick colored sketch

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zortartrix · 2 months ago

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Bunch of ocs

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darkelfshadow · 7 years ago

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Session Summary - 45

AKA “The Wayward Harper”

Adventures in Taggeriell

Session 45 (Date: 19th May 2018)

Players Present:

- Rob (Known as “Oloma”) Human Female.

- Travis (Known as “Trenchant”) Human Male.

- Sean (Known as “Seanicus”) Elf Male.

- Bob (Known as “Sir Krondor) Dwarf Male.

- Arthur (Known as “Gim”) Dwarf Male.

Absent Players

- Paul (Known as “Labarett”) Elf Male. <Played by Travis>

NPC

- (Known as “Naillae”) Elf Female. <Controlled by DM>

- (Known as “Nac”) Half-elf Male. <Controlled by Rob>

Summary

- Fireday, 5th Abadius in the year 815 (Second Era). Early Spring.

- The party begin this session, just before noon on the north trade route road, standing in the middle of the remains of the battle from last sessions orc ambush. Dead bodies of orcs are scattered everywhere. The party survey the scene as Seanicus waves his hand to dismiss the green light that swirls around the area. The horse on the lead security wagon is dead, cut down by the attacking orcs, and Nac is still unconscious but his bleeding and wounds have been stabilised thanks to words of enchantment from Labarett.

- The party, Bruhomn and the other wagon security guards all get to work to deal with the situation and get moving as fast as possible. Oloma moves around the area trying to find the tracks of where the orcs came from but it appears they have been here a few days, waiting for a caravan to attack, and the rains from a few days previous have washed away any chance of finding where the band of orcs had come from. Bruhomn and some of his staff get about the messy work of removing the harness from the dead horse, moving the animal off the road, and attaching a spare horse to the front wagon. Some of the party search about the bodies of the orcs but can not find anything of value. Whilst this is going on Trenchant is standing a top one of the tall rock formations with Bruhomn’s spy glass and is keeping a watch to make sure they are not attacked by any more foes whilst repairs are under way.

- Labarett is kneeling down casting a spell of healing upon Nac just as a small winged flying snake about 2 feet long suddenly appears in the air near Nac and then lands at the feet of Nac, who is starting to sit up coughing.

- Labarett moves to grab one of his long swords exclaiming, “A snake!”

- Nac quickly puts out one hand to stop Labarett saying, “No wait. That is for me.”

- The winged serpent drops a small messenger scroll at the feet of Nac and then leaps towards Nac and seems to vanish as it nears him.

- Labarett sheaves his long sword and turns to Nac, “You want to explain what that was?”

- Nac turns a cold stare to the Barbarian, “No.”

- Naillae moves closer and says, “I’ve seen that before. When I was doing a job for Halia in Phandalin, there was one time I saw Halia receive a message from a flying snake that popped in and out of thin air. I saw it from a distance and Halia never knew I was there. I never mentioned to Halia I saw it as I figured it might not be good for my health if she knew.”

- Nac stands up brushing the dust off himself and says, “Yes, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut about this too.”

- Labarett takes a step forward, to place his imposing figure between Nac and Naillae, an edge of constrained anger tones his voice, “Are you threatening another member of our fellowship?”

- Nac smiles, “No Labarett, I’m giving Naillae some life advise, if she wants to keep her life that is. I would not lay a hand on her but there are others, within my group that would kill to keep that knowledge secret.”

- Naillae leans around Labarett and looks at Nac, “You mean the Zhentarim, don’t you? I thought we were allies with the Zhentarim now?”

- Nac replies, “I’m not threatening you Naillae, I’m warning you. There are those in the Zhentarim that would kill for less. The Zhentarim may be cooperating with the other groups at this time but make no mistake. When this business with the Cult is done the Zhentarim will return to the shadows and once again protecting itself from knowledge. Those people that spoke out too much previously will be remembered. For your sake I caution you to be careful what you say and who might over hear. The eyes and ears of the Zhentarim are everywhere.”

- The caravan is once again ready to head off. The party take up the lead wagon position, except for Labarett and Seanicus who stay in the rear security wagon to help guard the rear. The rest of the afternoon passes uneventfully and the caravan does not stop for a midday break or meal as Bruhomn wishes to reach Dunfrun well before sunrise so he can start sorting out getting the sick members of the caravan seen too as soon as possible.

- With still an hour and half of light left before sunset the road moves in between two large rocky hills. Between the hills spans an enormous stone fortress made up of a series of large towers made of white stone. The tops of each tower are brightly coloured red. Along the sides of both of the rocky hills are many manned sentry posts. High above the fortress, placed on the north hill, is a high stone wall behind which can be seen the tops of various building.

- The road is leading straight to the largest of the white towers, the size of the base of the tower easily the same size as a small town, and the two tall stone doors there are closed. Many Dwarves, all armed and wearing similar armour with a red scarf draped over one shoulder, can be seen walking the tops of the defensive walls and manning large catapults and ballistas.

- Trenchant, pulls out his Doss Lute and begins to sing a song about the exploits of the caravan and bravery of the wagon guards who defend it. Nac bends his head down and sighs, “Bloody bards.”

- The song echoes around the valley and the stone walls of the fortress as the caravan slowly proceeds onwards. Some of the Dwarves up above can be seen nodding their heads in time to the tune. The large stone doors of the fortress begin to open as Leda rides up next to the party in the front wagon just as Trenchant finishes his song.

- Leda speaks in a loud enough voice to carry to the party in the adjacent wagon, “Welcome to Dunfrun. This is a Clanless Dwarf strong hold. It has no Thane that rules here, as it isn’t a Clan, but the duty of rulership is held between a Char, or ceremonial chief and a Dar, or the war chief. The reality is the war chief runs Dunfrun. There are many exiled Dwarves here, kicked out of their Clans, and they eventually end up here, bitter and with nothing left to lose. Just be careful you don’t go wandering around here alone. Follow me, we’re going through the main tower and out to the other side to the stockyards where the wagons will be staying.”

- The caravan follows Leda through the large stone doors into an impressive display of Dwarvish stone work. The ground level of the tower is one large open space, the ceiling which is forty feet high is seemingly held up by an occasional large thick stone pillar. Many arched windows let in an abundance of light. Inside the tower is a town, with roads, buildings, market squares, inns and all manner of shops. The streets are filled with a throng of people, mostly Dwarf but also with some Humans, Halfling, Tiefling and Dragonborn. All of the Humans have very dark skin. Scattered around the far circular edge of the tower can be seen wide stone steps raising to another level above. Leda tells the party that this is just one level of many like levels of this tower.

- Winding through the many streets the caravan eventually comes to the far side of the tower city and exits via a pair of stone doors, though large, are not as large as the main entry doors that the party entered the city by. They continue through into a inner compound area of some size, protected on all sides either by the rocky hills or large stone walls. Leda leads them to an empty area of the stockyard. There are scattered wagons and horses here and there.

- Once the caravan has halted Bruhomn gets off and starts to prepare for the stay. After paying the party for their guard duty for the last segment he tells them that the caravan will be staying in Dunfrun for two days as he will need to organise dealing with the deceased wagon drivers and their gear and see to the medical aid for the sick people within the wagon. The party are free to do what they like for the next two days and can either camp in tents next to the caravan or hire rooms in one of the many inns in town.

- The party look over to the cultists in the their wagons and can see they are setting up their tents to stay with the wagon. Bruhomn advises the party that with all the Dwarven soldiers walking around the area the wagons should be safe.

- As the party stand around the caravan deciding what to do, the Bag Of Sharing on Trenchant’s back tightens. Trenchant takes the bag off his back and then waits for it to loosen again before opening it. He pulls out a parchment note that he unfolds and starts to read, “It’s another letter from Valder. It reads, greetings friends. I have been continuing my studies into the book. I have learnt that the twin Elven Red Wizards Virion and Merith crafted the six dragon masks in the Wave Echo Cave Spell Forge: white, black, green, blue, red and a clear one. Each of the coloured Dragon Masks grants resistance to certain types of damage, protects the wearer and defends them, enhances certain abilities that involve breath attacks, grant dragon sight and speech, and each of the coloured masks grant certain other powers like water breathing or assisting in dealing damage to enemy foes.”

- Seanicus looks confused, “What book? Who’s Valder? What do the Dragon Masks have to do with this?”

- Nac replies, “Before you joined us. Valder was a former travelling companion, a Wizard. He left our group to stay in Lington as an assistant librarian in the Royal Library to research a large book there called Dragons Of The Council. The book tells about the Dragon Wars two thousand years ago when the Cult tried to call Tiamat into the world by forging the Dragon Masks. They failed but the masks still exist and now the Cult is searching for them to try again.”

- The party decide to get some business sorted whilst it is still daylight and after bidding Bruhomn farewell and promising to return on the morning two days from now, the party leave and make their way back to the ground level of the tower town and enter the busy settlement. Sounds and smells assault them as they walk around the busy town. All the signs on the shop fronts and street signs are written in Dwarvish.

- Gim asks a passing Dwarf about what inns or taverns are around here and is told about three near by ones on this level, the Buhrad Ats (Translation: “Golden Axe Tavern”), the Bof Smag Gar (Translation: “Home of the Strong Smoke House”) and the Syr Lin (Translation: “Silver Moon Inn”).

- The party decide to split up to save some time and then meet up later at the Golden Axe tavern but heeding Leda’s warning they make sure not to go wandering alone around the town. Seanicus and Oloma want to find somewhere to sell the black mushrooms Seanicus collected from the Bad Lands. Sir Krondor and Gim, glad to be in a Dwarven town, decide they will head straight for the Golden Axe tavern to get some drinking done and lastly Nac, Trenchant and Naillae decide to wander around the town looking what is about. Labarett decides to stay with the Dwarven cousins to make sure they don’t get into too much trouble or drink too much. Before splitting up Oloma asks Naillae if she can find and purchase a specialised crafting kit.

- Seanicus and Oloma look around trying to find an alchemist or herbal shop. They ask some of the locals but each Dwarf they speak to either completely ignores them or curses them in Dwarvish before walking off. They eventually see a sign, one of many that indicate the various shops and services available, and see that there is a sign in Dwarvish with “Nadmul’s Mystical Services and Readings” pointing upwards near one of the large stone stairways that leads to the next level. The pair walk up the stairs and find themselves on another open large level similar to the ground level. Streets and buildings are visible filling the open area and Dwarves walk to and fro. The buildings on this level appear to be more into crafts and trade, with black smiths, tanners, weavers, dye makers, and all manner of crafts.

- Following another sign the pair eventually come to a stone building, well made and clean, with a sign out the front in Dwarvish indicating “Nadmul’s Mystic Hut”. The pair enter a clean premises with a colourful and sparkling interior, as many dangling crystals and beads hanging from the ceiling catch the light from many scented candles that burn through out the room. Coloured feathers and scarfs adorn the room and in one corner is a round table covered in a red cover, with a black silk cloth covering a small round object.

- A female Dwarf, with striking red hair and dressed in purple robes adorned with silver stars, smiles and speaks in Dwarvish, “Welcome to my shop, I am Nadmul, how may I help you?”

- Oloma speaks in common, “My friend here has some black mushrooms from the Bad Lands to sell.”

- Nadmul changes her speech into common and informs them that she has no use for the stuff herself but knows that the mushrooms are used to make a potent brew at the Bof Smag Gar downstairs. She gives them directions on how to get there. Oloma and Seanicus look over the wares on offer but nothing interests them or they are too expensive.

- Oloma looks over at the round table, “What’s that used for?”

- Nadmul moves over to the table and removes the black silk cloth to reveal a large round crystal orb, “For a gold coin I can read your fortune.”

- Oloma takes out a coin and moves to sit down at the table, as Nadmul takes the coin and sits down opposite her. Oloma reaches out with her mind towards Nadmul and can sense her thoughts. The Dwarf touches her hands to the orb and then instructs Oloma to do the same. When Oloma touches the orb her connection to the Nadmul is broken and her entire focus is drawn to the orb. Light and smoke swirls within the orb and Oloma can see shapes and images forming within the smoke but they are hard to make out.

- Nadmul speaks, “You are a traveller from a far land.”

- Oloma sees shapes forming within the orb, is that the elder tower of Halruaan? A face? The smoke swirls to reveal the face of a female with a look of sadness. Mother? Mother!

- Nadmul continues, “You have made new friends and new alliances.” The smoke swirls and a series of faces and figures fly past, so fast as to be hard to see. Was that Morthos? A flash of white then a series of faces flashes past, some Oloma can see and recognise, Sir Krondor’s, Trenchant, the others moved too fast for her to see.

- Nadmul speaks, “A time will come when you will have to make a decision between yourself and others.” The orb goes dark, swirling with black smoke and from within a figure stands with their back to Oloma, the face hidden. The figure holds up a long sword, glowing yellow at first and then turns to purple. From within the smoke another figure moves but Oloma can not see it clearly and then fire, an explosion of heat and power so intense that for a moment her sight is blinded. Who was the figure? What decision?

- Nadmul takes her hands off the orb and her eyes, which had been completely white, return to normal. She speaks, “Was the vision to your liking?”

- Oloma nods, blinking, unsure of what to say, “Yes.”

- The pair quickly leave shop, Oloma looking behind her at the hut, the vision of the figure standing within the fire still seared on her sight.

- On the way back Seanicus and Oloma stop at an open wooden market stall that is selling various weapons. Seanicus attempts to buy a sling but has to pay the outrageous price of 1 gold coin for the item. It is obvious the Dwarf shop keeper is inflating the prices because neither Seanicus or Oloma are Dwarves. When they attempt to buy some sling bullets and the Dwarf again tries to charge them 1 gold coin Oloma uses her psionics to cause a distraction behind the shop keeper and Seanicus grabs the bag of bullets and the pair run off into the large crowd without paying for it.

- They look for the stairs down and begin to make their way over to the Golden Axe tavern to reunite with the party.

***

- Sir Krondor, Gim and Labarett have found the Golden Axe tavern and taken a seat at one of the tables within. The place is busy with many Dwarves seated at tables drinking, eating, talking and playing games. Everyone in the tavern keeps looks at Labarett, the only non-Dwarf in the place. Sir Krondor and Gim talk to the owner, Arak, and order two drinks for each of them and one drink for Labarett. When the drinks come out Sir Krondor and Gim’s eyes open wide and they smile broadly looking at the two drinks sitting in front of each of them. Each drink is the size of a small bucket. Labarett looks at the single large drink in front of him with some trepidation, it is the biggest size mug he has ever seen.

- The three sit and relax and enjoy their drink. Sir Krondor and Gim speak to the Arak, in Dwarvish, about the town and other news, whilst Labarett who can not speak Dwarvish, just sits and smiles and nods his head occasionally.

- Arak asks in Dwarvish, “Why are you two hanging around with a bloody Elf?”

- Sir Krondor sighs and replies in Dwarvish, “I know right. We have to baby sit him. He’s a bit slow. Don’t want him going off by himself and getting lost. We all work for the same boss as guards on a caravan.”

- Arak smiles, “Right. Right. You could always arrange an accident to occur to him. I know people that could arrange that. You wouldn’t have to look after him then.”

- Labarett, oblivious that the inn keeper has just offered to do him serious harm, is sitting and smiling.

- Sir Krondor replies, “Oh no. We would get in trouble if we lost him.”

- Arak leaves the three to drink in peace.

***

- While Nac, Trenchant and Naillae are wandering about they come to a large open public square that has many open stalls set up in a large fresh food market. There is a raised platform on the side of the square, obviously used for public speaking, and Trenchant decides to put on a performance. The Bard walks up to the platform and takes out his Doss Lute and begins to play a song about the many great deeds of the Dwarves past and present. At first the Dwaves around the area ignore him but then eventually a crowd starts to form around the bard, clapping and cheering about the songs.

- Trenchant is enjoying the song and cheering. Naillae is standing next to platform looking up at the Bard with obvious affection. Nac looks across at her and scoffs in displeasure.

- Trenchant then changes the song lyrics to talk about a new threat coming to the lands outside of Dunfrun, the Dragons, and the need for the brave and strong Dwarves of Dunfrun to join the fight. Trenchant watches the happy faces of the Dwarves one by one stop smiling and with a scowl turn and walk away. Trenchant knows immediately he has misread the audience and he has lost them. As he plays out the last chord, all the Dwarves have left, and only one person, an elderly female human stands just outside the front of a near by inn. She is smiling and tapping her feet in time to the last few bars.

- She wears a fine green dress, with detailed embroidery. Long white hair falls on either side of a smiling and welcoming face. As the song ends she claps at Trenchant, “You play well young man.”

- Trenchant looks over at her and starts to walk over to her, Naillae and Nac following. The Bard asks, “I think I lost my audience. What did I do wrong?”

- The female smiles, “You need to know your audience. The Dwarves of Dunfrun are a proud lot, boastful too, but they have grown insular and withdrawn from the rest of the world. They do not care of the problems that lay outside of these walls. And they grow worse year to year. They do not trust or like non-Dwarves or outsiders. They no longer patrol the northern lands or the northern trade route. Bandits and others have become more of a problem in these parts now. But come, let me buy you a drink for your song, I do love music and the sound of it is rare in these parts. My name is Livia.”

- Trenchant, Nac and Naillae follow her into the inn, which a sign in Dwarvish reads the “Syr Lin” (Translation: “Silver Moon”). Naillae says she’ll head over to the bar and drink there and see if she can learn where to get the crafting kit Oloma wanted. Nac and Trenchant follow Livia to a round table near a front window, which from a half drunk mug, a brown travelling cloak hung over a chair and a small backpack laying next to the table, must have been where Livia was already seated.

- Nac and Trenchant sit at two of the unoccupied chairs whilst Livia takes the travelling cloak and placed it over her shoulders before sitting down too.

- She waves down one of the Dwarven inn staff and orders drinks for Nac and Trenchant. When the drinks are delivered Trenchant notices in the dust of the near by window is a scribble. To anyone else it would be appear to be a random mark, with no meaning, but to Trenchant, he immediately recognises it as a Harper sign for “help”.

- Trenchant leans over and says, “Thank you for the drink.” and then extends a hand out to Livia to shake it. She takes the hand and smiles, feeling the quick and secret finger sign that Trenchant makes, the secret hand shake of a Harper.

- Still smiling, she lets go of Trenchant’s hand and then takes a small silver box out from an inner pocket of her cloak. She places it in the middle of the table and then opens the lid. Nac and Trenchant felt a pressure flow over them but nothing else.

- Nac looks at the elderly female suspiciously, “What was that?”

- Livia smiles, “Something that will allow us to talk without fear of others hearing.”

- Nac asks, “It places a silence around us?”

- Livia replies to Nac, “No, people will still hear us but they will not hear what we really say, only a mundane boring conversation about the weather and cooking recipes.”

- Turning to Trenchant she speaks, “I am Livia, Brightcandle of the Harpers.” (Third Rank).

- Trenchant nods, “I am Trenchant, Harpshadow of the Harpers.” (Second Rank).

- Trenchant and Livia speak about Harper matters, Nac muttering under his breath about “bloody harpers.” It appears that Livia’s apprentice and newly joined member of the Harpers, a Watcher (First Rank) by the name of Ignaaz, has gone missing whilst searching for the location of an orc lair near Dunfrun. Livia can not look for him as she must remain in the Syr Lin Inn waiting for a important contact. She asks Trenchant if he can search for her missing apprentice.

- Livia speaks, “Ignaaz is new to the Harpers. He is still learning and sometimes he takes risks when patience or prudence is needed. He will learn one day, if given the chance. I fear he has been captured and taken back to the orc’s lair. Have you heard of the treatment orcs give to captured foes? They play with them like toys, torturing them for days until they are near death and then finally kill them for food.”

- Trenchant asks, “How will we find Ignaaz or the lair now?”

- Livia says, “A Dwarf hunter by the name of Onnar drinks at the Bof Smag Gar. He knows the location of the lair but each time Ignaaz tried to ask him he was so drunk that he could not speak. Perhaps if you try to speak to him now you might be lucky and find him sober enough.”

- Trenchant answers, “We will speak to Onnar and then we will find your wayward Harper, Ignaaz.”

- Nac leans forward, “First, we need to discuss the how much this is going to cost you in gold to find him.”

- Livia raises one eyebrow in disgust and turns to Trenchant, “He’s with you?”

- Trenchant, looking embarrassed replies, “Yes. He’s not with the Harpers.”

- Livia turns back to Nac, “I find it highly insulting that the need the coin would even go through your brain. He is a Harper, and Harpers look after each other, like family. I will leave this in your capable hands Trenchant Harpshadow, please find Ignaaz.”

- Trenchant grabs Nac and in company with Naillae, who was unsuccessful in finding anything from the Dwarves as they don’t appear willing to help a non-Dwarf, leave the inn to head over to the Golden Axe to regroup with the rest of the party.

***

- A short time later the party are all reunited and seated within the Golden Axe inn. They discuss what to do next. Seanicus states he needs to go to the Bof Smag Gar to sell his black mushrooms and Trenchant says he needs to go there too to speak to the Dwarven hunter Onnar. Oloma asks Naillae if she has been successful in finding the item Oloma asked for but when Naillae replies that the Dwarves don’t seen to trust or like any non-Dwarves Oloma and Seanicus nod in agreement and understanding.

- The party all head out of the inn and see that there are now large flaming braziers along the circular walls and the pillars that hold up the ceiling. There is little smoke coming from the fires and what there is is somehow directed through holes in the tower to the outside. It must be evening now as the many windows are in darkness.

- Walking through the many streets the party make their way over to a run down part of the lower section of the town. The houses here are dirty and unkept and the people wandering around here all appear desperate. All the eyes of the locals here look hard at the party, as if wondering if the risk the party poses is worth the risk to try and rob them. Seanicus summons his Shadow Hound follow behind to look out for trouble. Likewise, Oloma uses her psionics to improve her senses and toughen her skin in case of attack.

- The party arrive at a wooden building with a broken sign out the front with “Bof Smag Gar” written in Dwarvish script. Some of the windows of the building are broken. A strong unpleasant smell comes from the building. It gives everyone a headache.

- Out the front of the building, seated on a broken wooden bench, are two Dwarves. One appears unconscious, as he is slumped backwards on the seat with vomit on his chest, and the other Dwarf is holding a wooden mug, looking around with red blood shot eyes.

- Sir Krondor walks up to the two Dwarves and asks about Onnar the hunter. It takes him a while to get any answers from the conscious Dwarf but he eventually only learns that Onnar may be inside.

- Opening the door to the building, a white fume of sickly smelling smoke drifts out. They enter the dark room, only scattered candles are around the room. A long bar is on the far wall, where two Dwarves stand behind, a pair of battle axes on hooks hang on the wall near them. Around the room are tables, chairs and rugs over which are seated or laying about twenty Dwarves in various states ranging from unconscious to semi-sober. Some Dwarves are drinking and some are smoking and all are in a pitiful state, wearing dirty and torn clothes, unkept hair, and from the smell obviously have not washed in weeks.

- The party sit down at an empty table.

- One of the Dwarves from behind the bar comes over, “You in the right place? You don’t seem like the sort we normally serve.”

- Sir Krondor speaks, “We’re here to speak to Onnar the Hunter. Is he here?”

- The bar keeper looks up and says sarcastically, “Onnar, Onnar? I know the name. If only something could loosen the block in my memory I might remember where he is.”

- Trenchant throws a gold coin onto the greasy table and the Dwarf grabs it immediately and then points to a corner table with a lone occupant, “That’s him there. You ordering any drink or smoke?”

- When the party inform the Dwarf they will not be buying anything he turns and walks back to stand behind the bar.

- Seanicus, Oloma and Sir Krondor make their way over to the bar whilst the rest of the party walk over to see the Onnar.

- Onnar the Dwarf Hunter is seated at the table, with a half drunk mug in front of him. He is wearing dirty, torn travelling gear. A backpack and longbow that have seen better days are laying on the floor next to him. Trenchant bangs his hand down onto the table, “You Onnar?”

- The Dwarf blinks a few times and then looks up, his eyes trying to focus on the where the voice came from. In a slurred voice the Dwarf replies, “Yeah, I’m Onnar, who wants to know.”

- Trenchant sits down and speaks to the Dwarf hunter. Luckily the party have caught Onnar before he has drunk too much and he is sober enough to talk too. He does know the location of the orc lair, having come across it in the near by mountains by accident on a hunt a few weeks ago.

- Trenchant asks again, “So you’ve never heard of someone called Ignaaz and you’ve never told anyone where this orc lair is?”

- Onnar burps, “Nope, who would I tell?”

- Trenchant says, “You will lead us to the lair tomorrow.”

- Onnar snaps, “I don’t have time to go leading you around the place.”

- Gim leans over and smiles, the light reflecting off the two great axes strapped to his back, “Yes, you do.” (Intimidation check successful).

- Onnar looks up at the grinning face of Gim and slowly replies, “Yes, I do.”

- Trenchant says, “Excellent. Then you’re coming with us now and staying with us in the Golden Axe. You can lead us to the lair first thing tomorrow morning.”

- Onnar slurs, “I can’t afford that fancy place!”

- Trenchant answers quickly, “We will pay for your accomodation and meals.”

- Onnar stands up, unsteady on his feet, “You hear that boys! I’m staying in the Buhrad Ats!”

- No one else in the inn notices or pays any attention to the outburst. Trenchant puts the half drunk mug away and leads Onnar away, “That’s enough drink. I need you sober for tomorrow.”

- Seanicus, Oloma and Sir Krondor leave the bar and reunite with the party.

- Naillae asks, “How did you go? Did you sell the black mushrooms?”

- Sir Krondor smiles, “Yes. The little weasel tried to fleece us! I got him to pay us a fair and honest price.”

- The party walk out of the Buhrad Ats and walk back to the Golden Axe, helping the unsteady Onnar walk. Once they arrive at the Golden Axe they arrange and pay for rooms and meals from Arak the inn keeper. Labarett and Seanicus take Onnar with them into a shared room to keep on eye on him. The party retire to their respective rooms and get to sleep. The rest of the night goes uneventfully.

- Starday, 6th Abadius in the year 815 (Second Era). Early Spring.

- The morning sees the coming of a sunny day with medium winds bringing a cool breeze. It looks like the weather will be pleasant for the coming incursion into the mountains.

- After a large breakfast the party prepare to leave. Onnar is looking much more sober now and much more capable. He checks his equipment and makes sure it is stowed and ready for travel.

- The party leave Dunfrun and Onnar leads the way. Any doubts about the Hunter’s abilities are quickly squashed when they see the now sober Dwarf moving with a practised ease. He leads the party away from Dunfrun towards the east and up into the Anum mountains that stretch for hundreds of miles to the north, west and east.

- Trenchant keeps an eye on Onnar and is impressed with his skill as a tracker. The Dwarf is somehow picking out the way amongst a bleak and featureless landscape. Trenchant moves upwards to speak to Onnar, “You have some skill out here in the wilds. Why do waste your life away with what ever coin you have on drink?”

- Onnar turns to look at Trenchant, and says nothing. At first Trenchant does not think he will get a reply, then after a time Onnar speaks, his voice filled with pain, “I’m not proud of what I’ve become. I drink to forget. I was married to a fine woman and had two children. That was when I was living in Clan Moribek. Then my family was killed by bandits whilst out in the mountains around the Clan stronghold. I blamed everyone. I blamed the other Dwarves for not protecting my wife, I blamed the Thane for not driving out the bandits from around our stronghold, I blamed my wife for going out that day. But really deep down, I blamed myself for not being there when they needed me. I turned to drink. I become violent and disruptive. I attacked the Thane in a drunken rage. I was banished by the Thane. Left the Clan a broken man. I can never return to Clan Moribek.”

- Trenchant looks at the neck of Onnar, “I’m sorry for your lose Onnar. You don’t have the mark of a traitor branded on you. Why is that?”

- Onnar smiles, “Oh the Thane wanted to alright. And I deserved it, mark my words boy, I attacked the Thane of my Clan. What can be more dishonourable than that? But one of his advisors, my cousin, convinced the Thane that my tragic story should be taken into consideration in passing sentence. So instead of being branded a traitor and bared from all Clans, I was just banished from his Clan. I headed out west and ended up here at Dunfrun with all the other Dwarves that have failed in life. Drink is all I have left. I go out when I’m sober and hunt big game, the rarer stuff that is in demand. I get a good price for it back in Dunfrun and then I use the money to drink until I forget again.”

- Trenchant leaves Onnar to the task of leading them and the party continue onwards, speeded up by the gift of Labarett’s supernatural abilities. After only an hour, Onnar crouches down and slowly moves up to a large rock and peers over it. The party likewise move up carefully.

- Onnar speaks, “Up ahead is a long cliff, not high, but long. An old river bed and dry waterfall are there. There are lots of caves along the cliff face but one of them is marked, you can’t miss it. That’s the one you want with the orcs. There’s a trail of sorts here, must be made by the passing orcs. Looks a fair number of them too. Follow the trail from now on. Good luck.”

- Onnar starts to turn around to leave. Trenchant stops him with a hand, “Onnar come with us. We could use your skill with a bow.”

- The Dwarf laughs, “You wanted me to take you to the lair. That’s the lair. I’m no hero and this isn’t my problem. And my skill with the bow extends to hitting large animals that are standing still and not aware I’m even there. I don’t want to try firing at fast moving orcs intent to take my head off for lunch! If you survive, head back west. You shouldn’t miss Dunfrun but even if you do miss it, you have to cross the road so just follow that into the town.”

- With that Onnar turns and walks away. The party watch him go and then proceed onwards towards where Onnar indicated the cliff starts. They continue forward following the rough trail and after a moment they see that the trail is splitting into two. One path winds downwards to the lower ground and one path stays on the upper ground of the cliff.

- The party have a quick discussion as to whether to stay on the high or low path and vote to stay on the higher ground. They continue following the trail until they see further ahead it leads to the edge of the cliff where there is a pile of bones sticking up. An old, dry river bed can be seen further ahead.

- Labarett speaks, “That’s the river bed Onnar spoke of and that must be the marker. Now what?”

- Trenchant speaks, “Wait here, I’ll scout ahead with my cloak and see if it’s safe. I’ll throw a rock if it is.”

- Trenchant pulls up the hood of his cloak and then the cloak takes on the bland colours of the rock around them, making him blend into the surrounding. He moves cautiously across the lose rocks, making no sound thanks to his Boots of Elvenkind. He climbs up a nearby small hill and looks around him. He can see no sign of orcs. He throws a small rock towards the party and seeing the sign they move forward, with Gim, Oloma and Seanicus leading the way and moving closer to the cliff edge and the bone marker.

- The three look over the edge and can see caves everywhere but directly below there are two caves, one at the ground floor below and one set half way up the cliff face. Another bone marker is placed next to the cave on the bottom. Seanicus sends forth his shadow hound to the ground cave and the has it wait there on look out.

- Seanicus leans over the cliff edge and looks at the rocks, “It would appear that this section of rock has had a lot of use, they are claw and foot marks all over it.” (Successful Perception check).

- Gim speaks, “Orcs like to climb, dam good at it too. And they have claws. This must be how they get in and out.”

- Labarett speaks, “Then way is there another path that goes to the larger bottom cave? Why would the orcs need or use that too?”

- No one has an answer.

- Oloma waves over Naillae and the Rogue Elf moves over to the cliff edge and then proceeds to climb upside down towards the nearest cave. She pops her head into the cave to look inside and then turns around to climb back up to the top. She climbs up and stands next to the party and tells them that the cave goes back into a cavern and all she can see is bats on the ceiling but no orcs.

- Trenchant rejoins the group and removes his hood to reappear saying, “Well then lets see what’s in the upper cave.”

- The party hammer a spike into the ground and tie a rope to it. The rope is tied around Nac, being the heaviest in the party due to his armour, and the rest of the party helps lower him down whilst he climbs down into the upper cave. Once there he unties the rope around him and waits until one by one the party climb down and into the cave. Naillae is last to come, removes the spike and takes the rope with her and then easily climbs down unaided to join the others in the cave.

- The party move forward and follow the cave passage into a larger cavern. There appears to be no other exits from here.

- Gim looks around, “This doesn’t make any sense. Why would the orcs climb into a dead end cave?”

- Nac moves to one of the cavern walls, “Everyone start looking for secret doors.”

- Seanicus kneels down, “I’ll perform my ritual of Detect Magic, maybe something hidden here.”

- Labarett also sits down, “And I’ll perform my ritual of Speak to Animals. The bats here might give us some information.”

- The party all start checking the walls but the size of the cavern and the rough nature of the walls and rock make it slow going. After ten minutes Nac and Oloma both locate a hidden section of rock that as they are running there hands over it, it easily swings back to reveal a hidden stairway going down and bending round slightly. When they let go of the rock section it swings back into place to once again look like a normal section of the cavern wall.

- Nac calls out, “Found a secret stairway, what about you two, have you discovered anything?”

- Seanicus stands up, “No, there is nothing magic here.”

- Labarett stands too, “The bats are difficult to understand but I did get that the orcs do come through here, a large group of them. They come and go as a group about every week or two.”

- Gim asks, “A hunting party?”

- “Maybe,” replies Labarett and continues, “But the bats mentioned another thing I don’t understand. They said the ones of our size, which must be the orcs, come through this cave, but the ones of a much larger size come through the cave down below.”

- Trenchant asks, “Any idea what these large creatures are?”

- Labarett shakes his head with a no. The party prepare to go down the stairs and because the stairs are narrow have to descend single file. The stairs curve around and go a fair distance but Gim doesn’t think they have descended too fair as the incline of the steps wasn’t that much (Successful Stone cunning check).

- The stairs end at a small 10’ square room with no other seeming exits again. The party begin to search the small area for another secret door. Sir Krondor and Gim, being the first in line down the stairs begin to search the small area but can’t find anything. Oloma comes down too but can’t find anything either.

- Gim turns back to the rest of the party still waiting on the stairs as there is no more room in this small area, “Check out the walls on the stairway might be a button there.”

- The rest of the party start to search the stairway but no one can find anything until Naillae sees a small indentation that she presses and it clicks but with no apparent affect.

- Oloma tells her to press the button again and she’ll try to push the forward wall at the same time. Naillae presses the button and Oloma places her hand onto the plain stone wall at the end of the small room and it swings open to reveal a large cavern light by a campfire. Around the campfire, a dozen orcs turn to see the stone door swing open and immediately raise up grabbing their weapons. Other orcs, from around the corner of the cavern pop into view.

- Oloma and Gim, using the element of surprise to their advantage quickly rush in. Gim move around to the right and engages the closest orcs and Oloma steps inside and then vanishes to reappear in the corner of the cavern behind some raised broken stalagmites that provide some cover.

- The party are struggling to get down the narrow stairs quick enough and are finding it hard to enter the cavern quickly. The orcs, half naked wearing only a loin cloth and with war paint all over them, rush forward screaming. Orc Berserkers. They show no fear and are fighting recklessly and dangerously.

- Two large orcs, wearing armour are getting up from their seated positions on the side of the cavern. These orcs each have an eye missing, apparently gouged out. A medallion around each of their necks has a simple metal disc with an engraved eye on it. These two special orcs are Eyes of Gruumsh. They have willingly sacrificed one of their eyes to the Orc God Gruumsh and in doing so have been granted divine powers by the god. They are his emissaries, his clerics.

- Oloma, from her spot behind the broken stalagmites sees the orcs beginning to rush forward and the two Eyes of Gruumsh beginning to stand up. She unleashes a powerful psionic blast into the room that kills five of the orcs and badly wounds the two Eyes of Gruumsh.

- Seanicus has managed to squeeze his way forward towards the secret door and looking into the cavern speaks words of power to summon within a green light that swirls and moves around the cavern, attacking the orcs as it does so.

- The Orc Berserkers rush in, not caring for the display of magic and psionics all around them. They know no fear and will fight to death. Their great axes swing towards Gim and Oloma as they are the only ones of the party in the cavern. One of the Eyes of Gruumsh starts to cough blood and falls backwards dead, succumbing to the green light of Seanicus’s spell of Sickening Radiance. The other remaining Eye of Gruumsh does not succumb to the green light and points his hand at three of the Orc Berserkers that are attacking the party. He Blesses them in the name of Gruumsh, a yellow pale light now surrounds them; their attacks shall ring true in the great Orc gods name!

- Oloma finds herself surrounded by four Orc Berserkers but thankfully only one can reach her as the broken stalagmites are giving her cover. She summons her Soul Blades and prepares to fight back. One of the orcs swings its great axe at her whilst another throws it weapon at her head, narrowly missing her.

- Nac calls upon the power of his Goddess, Takhisis, and brings her Aid to Labarett, Sir Krondor and Gim, empowering them to fight longer and harder and then the Cleric moves into the cavern.

- Gim is pushing the orcs back from the secret door, allowing Sir Krondor and Labarett to both move in. Sir Krondor’s green war hammer swinging into the head of an orc whilst Labarett’s battle axe Snaidh swings into chest of another orc. Gim not to be outdone swings his great axe into the head of one orc and slices the top half of the head clean off killing the creature (Critical Hit - Triple Damage and Blinded).

- Seanicus moves forward into the room only to be surrounded by two more Berserkers, one of which grabs him whilst the other attacks him. Sir Krondor, Labarett and Gim having cleared the orcs around them quickly move towards Seanicus and kill the orcs attacking the Warlock.

- Oloma aims a psionic attack at the last Orc Eye of Gruumsh, killing him. As the orc lets out one last breath his dead body falls backwards and it hits a section of the cavern wall which then swings back to reveal a hidden door.

- The party have managed to enter and over whelm the orcs quickly. They move into the cavern and begin searching the dead bodies. They can see that this cavern leads to the outside area and is the bottom cave they saw from above. The secret stone door is 15’ high and 10’ feet wide and beyond it a set of 10’ wide stone steps descend down with a slight bend. The secret door, though being one large solid block of stone easily moves and swings even with just one hand pushing it with no effort.

- Gim looks at the door, “That is Dwarvish make. No one else could make a stone door so large and so perfectly balanced.”

- Naillae looks at the large door, “Why are all Dwarvish doors so big?”

- Nac replies, “It’s a Dwarf thing. They’re over compensating.”

- The bodies of the orcs have nothing of value. Trenchant takes the two eye medallions.

- The party spend some time searching the cavern for other possible secret doors but can not find anything else. They decide to go back upstairs to the upper cavern with the bats and again search it for secret doors but again find nothing else.

- They decide to proceed down the 10’ wide stone steps, the two cousins Sir Krondor and Gim leading the way. The stairs descend for some distance, the air getting colder around them, until they see an opening up ahead. Gim believes they have descended about 70’ below the surface of the ground.

- Seanicus sends his Shadow Hound forward into the room to see what lays ahead. Through the eyes of his invisible hound Seanicus sees a large carven filled with stalagmites. A thin layer of cold mist covers the ground but still visible on the ground is littered bones and rubbish all over. The cavern is so large and of an odd shape that not all of it is visible. To the left is an open stone archway, that stands 10’ wide and 15’ high that has some engravings upon it. Light is coming from somewhere beyond the open archway. Two broken stone pillars stand before the archway. In the far corner of the cavern is a large hay pile, flattened like a bed, and seated upon it is a large Ogre. The massive beast has his back to the direction of the party and appears to be eating a large dead animal, the crunching sound of its jaws crushing the bones of the animal echo through out the cavern.

- Wishing to check out as much of the room as possible, the Shadow Hound is sent further and it sees a second Ogre seated on another pile of hay on the opposite corner to the first Ogre, in a small portion of the cavern to the side and behind the entry stairs from where the party are positioned.

- The party decide to send in Oloma and Trenchant who will sneak forward into the room to get a better look. The two enter the room slowly and head to the left to a near by formation of large stalagmites. Trenchant is silent, his Boots of Elvenkind making no noise on the uneven ground but Oloma walks onto a piece of bone and it brakes with a loud enough snap that even the party waiting up on the stairs can hear it.

- From the Ogre near the stairway, the sound of it raising up can be heard by everyone. Oloma moves back into a safer position whilst Gim comes running down the stairs and into the room. The sound of his rattling armour and pounding feet has now drawn the attention of the far Ogre who now stops eating to turn and look towards the party.

- Gim readies his great axe for combat. As a flash of colour runs past him, Labarett is charging at full speed into the room and towards the closest Ogre. The Elf Barbarian Sorcerer does not hesitate, in a full rage he starts to swing his enchanted battle axe towards the approaching Ogre. The battle axe cuts a deep wound (Critical Hit on a Charge).

- Oloma looks across the cavern at the Ogre standing on the far side and turns her mind towards the Ogre. Oloma’s psionics concentrate into the Ogre’s mind and force it to escape into itself, shattering its resolve and making it unlikely to want to attack or approach the party. The Ogre is now cowering down and covering its face with its large hands.

- Seanicus steps towards the cavern entry and leans around the corner to see that the Ogre that Oloma just affected is standing on the pile of hay. Seanicus aims a spell at the hay and a small bonfire erupts under the feet of the Ogre and the hay pile immediately erupt into flames.

- Sir Krondor runs down the stairs pulling out his long bow and sees the Ogre lit up on fire on the far side of the cavern. Unfortunately Sir Krondor does not see Trenchant standing in the way as the Bard still has his Cloak of Elvenkind on and is camouflaged from view. Sir Krondor fires an arrow at the flaming Ogre but hits Trenchant instead injuring him (Fumble attack that was rerolled from using Inspiration that was again rolled as a Fumble). Trenchant grits his teeth in pain from the blow but does not yell out in order to not give away his position.

- Naillae stays well back from the cavern entrance and waits for an opportunity to use her unique talents.

- The Ogre that the party have engaged near the stairs moves closer to the party and swing its massive great club. The Ogre standing in the flaming hay pile, its mind still confused and affected by Oloma’s psionics, jumps out of the fire and around a corner to try and hide from the view of the party.

- A third Ogre now raises up into view, having previously been laying down asleep behind a large pillar of stone. Now the party face the threat of three Ogres! This new Ogre strides easily to reach the party, its long thick legs making large strides and comes to stand in front of Sir Krondor. The large creature swings its great club and strikes the ground near the Dwarf with a loud thud.

- Trenchant, still hidden by his cloak, carefully moves away from the Ogre, who does not notice he is there, and moves to the large rock pillar. The Bard places an oil flask onto the ground near him.

- Gim and Labarett takes turns swinging their weapons into one of the Ogres, the large beast unable to avoid their blows and finding it hard to hit the pair. With a loud roar Labarett slices his battle axe into the leg of the Ogre forcing it to kneel down and allowing Gim to slice open the neck of the beast with his great axe. A loud thud sounds as the creature hits the ground dead.

- From the large stone archway, that has light coming from it, appears a group of Orcs running into the cavern. There are fourteen Orcs dressed in hide armour, four Orc Berserkers covered in war paint and a single Orc Orog wearing full plate armour. The group is running in at full speed. One of them knocks over the oil flask placed on the ground by Trenchant, the oil splashes onto his legs and so too the legs of an adjacent Orc but does not slow them down.

- Seanicus, still looking into the cavern from the entry way, sees the new threat of the Orcs and summons a Sickening Radiance into the cavern. Suddenly the air is filled with green light as it swirls around attacking all the foes within.

- Labarett charges towards the new Ogre and begins to swing his battle axe Snaidh into the Ogre’s back. At the same time, Sir Krondor drops his long bow and reaches for his war hammer from his back. The Dwarf Knight does not bother to take his shield out but rather holds his weapon two handed and begins to pound into the Ogre, joining Labarett’s attack, the sickening sound of breaking bones filling the cavern with each strike of his war hammer into the Ogre. The last swing of Sir Krondor’s war hammer slams into the chest of the Ogre and as it coughs up blood, gurgling and unable to breath, it falls to the ground to die.

- Naillae, standing behind Seanicus in the entry way, throws daggers at the approaching Orcs. Then she exclaims in panic and takes a step back as the figure of the Orc Orog, wearing full plate armour, comes into view to stand directly in front of Seanicus, who also leans back to try to get away.

- The final Ogre, trying to move forward away from the fire, suddenly falls forward, its eyes closed, as it succumbs to the green light of Sickening Radiance slowly draining it of life. Now only the Orcs remain.

- Trenchant, still hidden, summons a Stinking Cloud at the on coming Orcs to try to slow them down. A noxious thick yellow cloud appears around the Orcs. Coughing can be heard coming from it but the cloud is soo thick as to make it impossible to see them now. The Bard then moves back away.

- Nac summons a spell around him, soon the air is filled with whirling pale Spirit Guardians that glow with a faint white light. They surround Nac and attack and slow down any foe that comes near him.

- Gim and Labarett are trying to move back to the entry way, striking Orcs aside as they do, desperate to aid Seanicus and Naillae against the threat of the Orc Orog. Sir Krondor too is moving from Orc to Orc, bringing them down.

- Oloma moves to the side and opens her mind fully, allowing a powerful blast of psionic energy to flood forth. She directs it towards the yellow cloud of stinking vapours and the force of the wave is so great the minds of all the orcs trapped within the cloud are shattered. They all fall down dead. Oloma sighs with the effort, her reserves of psionic potential are dwindling.

- Seanicus summons a bonfire under the feet of the Orc Orog. He howls in pain as the flames lick up his legs, heating his full plate armour. Naillae throws two daggers at the Orc Orog but the daggers just bounce off the armour of the foe. The Orog screams in pain from the fire that is heating him up and the combined power of the green light of the Sickening Radiance and the white swirling Spirit Guardians attacking him. He drops to the ground dead.

- Most of the Orc Berserkers also succumb to the twin energies of the green and white eldritch powers raging around them. The last Orc Berserker is quickly dropped by the combined blows of Gim, Labarett and Sir Krondor (Fumble attack by Sir Krondor but his Master Work war hammer ignores Fumbles).

- The battle is over and all the foes are dead.

- The whole party is smiling and ecstatic from their overwhelming victory.

- Nac boasts, “That’s how you do it. Blast them into oblivion! Don’t give them a chance!”

- Sir Krondor bends down to pick up his long bow and sighs, “No, that’s not how you do it. Do you know how many more caverns we face? Do you know how many more foes we face? Are these foes the strongest we will face in here or the weakest?”

- Nac shrugs, “I don’t know. Who cares?”

- Sir Krondor, “I care. I’ve been fighting wars and battles long enough to know you are all being reckless. You are wasting your limited spells on the likes of these. Orcs! Ogres! By the gods we could have cut them down with blades and hammer. We didn’t need to waste precious spells on the likes of those. Let’s hope for our sakes that we don’t get caught short if we face a greater threat later on in this cavern. You may wish you hadn’t wasted them on a flashy light show to see who could kill the most grunts in the quickest possible time!”

XP Allocation

Group - Combined (This is equally divided by the number of players who were involved)

Quests (Only quests that are completed or rendered undoable, during this session, are shown here)

- Arrive Next Settlement (Dunfrun) = 200 XP

- Accept The Quest From The Harper (Livia) = 100 XP

- Locate the Orc Lair = 100 XP

Creatures Overcome

- Orcs - Eye Of Gruumsh = 900 XP

- Orcs - Berserkers = 3400 XP

- Ogres = 1350 XP

- Orc - Orog = 450 XP

- Orcs = 1000 XP

Individual (This is only given to that person and is not divided amongst all players)

Special Bonus (Outstanding Role Playing)

Nil

XP Levels and Player Allocations

Player : Start + Received = Total (Notes)

Rob : 42064 + 937 = 43001

Arthur : 30076 + 937 = 31013

Travis : 29720 + 1171 = 30891

Paul : 25594 + 702 = 26296

Sean : 27205 + 937 = 28142

Bob : 25763 + 937 = 26700

NPC (Naillae) : + (468)

NPC (Nac): + (468)

#D&D #DnD #5th #5e #RPG #HOTDQ

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thatwitchrevan · 7 years ago

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also merith is probably legitimately flummoxed by w/e the hell bastila is doing, even with recent revelations about human rights violations and manipulations running through her mind. obviously she knows bastila isn’t the jedi she’s supposed to be and all that but like? trying to kill her? working with malak..ish? WEARING BLACK? what happened?? to her girl? she’s so confused

#and at some point she's like 'okay so i did it again.'#continues niche shitposting

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my-head-is-an-animal · 3 years ago

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All Things Begin With Hardship

Lord Elrond x OFC

Warnings: Mild injury description, loss.

Content: Fluff and Angst

Summary: When the village of Barepoint is overrun by Orcs, Katrine must find her way to Rivendell and ask Lord Elrond for help, but once she arrives, the great Elven lord becomes more than just a little curious and soon, smitten.

Chapter 11 - Return To Barepoint

The week was over and I woke the morning I was to leave for Barepoint, we hadn��t heard back from Caverntree or Ridgeway, but I hoped they would help if they could. Arwen was already in the stables by the time I arrived, I gave Bellor a stroke on his long face and went to ready another horse.

Merith, Alwin and Ailred were going about readying their own horses, they were no longer wearing Rivendell’s colours, instead they wore their own travelling clothes, each of them with their chosen weapons and it was something I knew I needed to do as well. If I could find a decent sword that fit me, I could at least defend myself and look like a leader.

Elrond had entered the stables, he was already wearing his red armour, much like the rest of the company, he approached me and gave a small smile.

‘I believe Bellor would be a more appropriate horse for you.’ He said. I blinked, confused. ‘He’s been good to me, but I feel his allegiance lies elsewhere these days.’ I looked over to see the big, strong horse getting restless.

Elrond took the saddle from the white stallion I had been preparing and gestured for me to follow him over to Bellor, who began calming down.

‘Bellor has always served me well, but since your arrival he has shown more loyalty to you. I hope you will accept him as your own.’ Elrond finished strapping the saddle to Bellor who was happy to allow him to do so. ‘Take care of him and he will always take care of you.’ Elrond squeezed my shoulder and smiled, before leaving me to ready another horse.

I looked up at Bellor and stroked his face, his eyes were black, but I could see a calmness in them that relaxed me as well.

We eventually rode out of Rivendell with Alwin and Ailred leading the way, Merith stayed next to me and Elrond was behind me. We had a party of maybe twenty Elves who had volunteered to escort us to Barepoint, and I was gradually getting more and more nervous. The heat under my thin leather armour was getting unbearable, but I stayed quiet and just concentrated on riding behind the two brothers. Merith had been the one to tell me that they had the same mother but two different fathers, Ailred’s father had died in battle a thousand years previous when Ailred was just a child, she soon met Alwin’s father and six hundred years ago, Alwin was born. Merith himself was closer to one and a half thousand years old and I was suddenly incredibly intimidated by him. What did see in me?

It was a day’s ride to the outskirts of Barepoint and I could feel my heart growing heavy the closer we got. I could just about see the blackened buildings of the place I once called home, the fields had been burnt as well, everything looked like a wasteland.

‘Lady Katrine?’ Merith frowned, it seemed I had stopped riding and Bellor stood still, waiting for me to spur him forwards, but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t find the will to continue. I could still hear echoes of the screaming and my people dying as I rode away.

I felt Elrond ride up beside me, but I didn’t dare look at him, I could feel the tears forming in my eyes anyway and if I looked at him, I would reveal myself.

‘Katrine, it’s not much further.’ He said. ‘This is just the first challenge and the first chance to shape yourself.’ No one could hear what he was saying except me and I appreciated it. The truth was, he was right, this was the first chance to show what kind of person I was going to be.

I couldn’t let fear get the better of me, I couldn’t let the memory of my past be known or how much it haunted me, I needed to be a pillar of strength and courage.

I suddenly felt my body work of its own accord, I was pushing Bellor forward at a pace I’d never ridden before, Barepoint was the only destination I had on my mind. I couldn’t hear whether anyone had followed me, but I knew that Elrond would never leave me alone in my time of need and I needed every piece of strength he could give me.

The village was baron, burnt down and without a trace of life. I jumped down from Bellor and went about inspecting the nearest buildings, it looked like nothing had survived the fires. The only thing in the whole place that had been left standing was the village meeting hall, it was made of stone and only the size of a dining hall. It used to be filled with a large table and a few chairs, as well as anything we couldn’t store elsewhere such as a few weapons and sometimes some firewood.

I went back outside to see Elrond dismounting his horse and frowning up at me, more curious than anything.

It was suddenly at that moment I spotted the one thing I didn’t ever want to see again, the long, thin piece of wood that my father had died on. I approached it and saw that it was covered in dried blood, presumably my father’s, but there was no body. I remembered what people used to say about Orcs eating their victims and I thought I could break down there and then, but something was stopping me. A rage was building inside of me, one I felt ashamed of.

Merith had ordered the other Elves to clear out the village hall, set up camp and get a fire going, but Elrond approached me carefully. Arwen had already gone about wandering around what was left of my home.

‘Lady Katrine?’ Elrond kept his voice low, aware that Alwin had come over to take the horses away. ‘It will be nightfall in an hour, Merith needs orders to follow.’

I wasn’t sure what to say, I was caught between wanting to run away forever and sending the Elves back to Rivendell so I could die alone in the place that I lost my father. What orders should I have given to anyone at a time like this?

‘He was killed on this.’ I said, not really trying to explain anything, just wanting to say the words out loud so that I may come closer to healing, but I still felt so alone in my grief. ‘An Orc lifted him high and the tip of the pole went through his chest. Killed instantly.’

Elrond took a step closer. ‘His sacrifice meant that you could escape, it meant that you could come back here and rebuild, reshape your home into something better. Death does not have to mean the end of life.’

‘Will you do something for me?’

‘Anything.’

I don’t know what made me say it, it was selfish and it was unfair, but I needed it so badly. ‘I don’t want to feel this way on my own, I need someone who can understand me for a while.’

He frowned, unsure.

‘Please.’ I begged and it made him understand.

‘Are you sure?’

‘It hurts so much, but the worst part is that I’m alone.’

You are never alone when I am here.

It was like the words were put directly into my mind, his deep voice in the centre of my mind, it was strange at first, I could feel a warmth running through my body that I wasn’t quite used to, but soon it was just painful to watch as Elrond began to feel the same pain that I felt.

Katrine, do not let your pain turn to rage. I can feel it forming in your heart, if you allow it to continue, it will consume you.

‘Stop.’ I whispered and the warmth began to disappear, Elrond no longer looked in pain and I knew he was gone. ‘Thank you.’ I said and took a deep breath. It was as if the pain had lifted slightly, like I no longer felt as heavy or as burdened.

‘My lady,’ Merith called from the steps of the village hall. My head snapped up and he was looking at something in the distance, I quickly jogged up the steps to see as well. ‘I believe your message found Ridgeway.’ It was a small and dark image, blurred, but I imagined for Merith the people travelling were much clearer.

‘How many?’ I asked.

‘Around thirty, including women and children.’ He said and I nodded.

‘We’ll need to accommodate them.’ It wasn’t an order exactly, but Merith knew what I was saying, he smiled and bowed his head, respectfully. ‘Tonight, we clear what we can and tomorrow we begin the real work.’

‘I shall spread the word and have a report ready for you this evening.’ Merith left me standing on the steps, watching as the people from Ridgeway arrived, as they got closer Alwin spotted another group coming from the direction of Caverntree, they were both carrying more than just people, they had supplies as well.

Merith was incredibly organised and as camps were being set up, he delegated a night watch to Ailred who began a rotation into the night. Two representatives from Ridgeway and Caverntree came to the hall where we were basing operations.

Mostly Elrond and I were noting where the most damage was and what needed to be restored first, it would be a rough few months, but eventually Barepoint would become a fully functioning farming town, capable of defending itself and trading.

‘Lady Katrine, Lord Elrond,’ Merith interrupted our conversation that wasn’t all that important to introduce the two representatives. ‘May I present Holdred, of Ridgeway and Elfor of Caverntree.’ The two men stepped forward, each of them no older that twenty-five, but both of them eager to talk with me.

‘Thank you Merith,’ I nodded, Merith taking it as permission to leave. Elrond stood behind me as I greeted the two men. ‘Welcome to Barepoint, I presume you are here to help us rebuild?’

‘We are,’ the man known as Elfor nodded a little too enthusiastically. ‘We heard about the attack and a few of us have kept our ears out for any news of survivors and when we heard that someone had been taken in by the Elves, we could hardly say no when a call for help came.’ Elfor seemed incredibly kind and eager to help. I’d heard the people of Caverntree were prone to having a good time and that they loved to tell stories and talk to new people. Elfor was exactly that, with his curly dark hair half over his big brown eyes, he seemed like everything you expected a man of Caverntree to be.

‘Thank you Elfor, I appreciate you coming.’ I wasn’t sure how else to handle the situation.

‘We’ve brought supplies to help in rebuilding some of the structures.’ Holdred cut in, he was around my age, a little younger than Elfor and much more reserved, but he seemed to have a good heart nonetheless. ‘Not all of us are good with building things, but some from Ridgeway are skilled in farming and I know that Elfor has a healer from Caverntree.’

‘That is good news,’ I sighed in relief, finally a mention of the things I was forgetting. I didn’t even think about medicine or where I would find any farmers, or even where I could find the supplies to rebuild, but I was glad that these two young men had thought of it for me. ‘Let me introduce Lord Elrond, he and the other Elves he came with will be helping for a while before they return to Rivendell.’

Elrond stepped forward and bowed to the two men who looked entirely taken back by the gesture. ‘We will endeavour to do our part until a time when Barepoint is able to function alone.’ Elrond said, graciously.

The two men seemed at a complete loss for words and began stumbling over each other, much to my amusement.

‘If you will excuse me, my lady,’ Elrond said, more to prevent them embarrassing themselves further than anything. ‘I believe my daughter was looking for me not long ago.’

‘Thank you, my lord.’ I nodded and Elrond soon left.

Elfor, Holdred and I soon got down to work in planning for tomorrow. It was night fall by the time we finished and the whole village was set up with camps, Alwin had made the inside of the hall comfortable for myself and Elrond to sleep in for the night and the rest of the people were made comfortable in tents or in make shift structures with fires set up everywhere else.

There were maybe seventy or so people who had come to the aid of Barepoint and I thought myself extremely lucky to have gotten that many. The number included, Elves, women and children, some of whom had run into a little trouble on the way with wild animals. It warmed my heart to see Elrond healing their wounds, particularly those of the children, however I felt a wave of jealousy when the women showed interest in him and he smiled politely at them.

I had no reason to be jealous, Elrond wasn’t mine, he could do as he pleased.

Just as everyone was about to sleep and I sat on the stone steps of the hall watching them, Merith came to give me the report. It was a list of supplies we had, people who had specific skills and anything that would need to be acquired as a matter of priority. It was still a lot of think about, but Elrond seemed to make it all feel easier. We went inside and he gave me advice on what to focus on first, the village needed to be cleared of debris and a basic floorplan set up.

‘Where do you plan on keeping supplies? Housing the people? Feeding them?’ Elrond reminded me, as he removed his thick tunic, revealing only a thin white shirt beneath, one that clung tight to his body and distracted me slightly. I knew he noticed because he stopped talking for just a moment, before giving a slight smirk and continuing. ‘It may also be wise to start thinking about the surrounding fields, you have two highly skilled men who know agriculture, I would suggest putting them in charge of making the fields capable of growing crops again. Merith will be able to help you organise the people and Alwin and Ailred are here to enforce your plans. You have everything you need to start building a new home, all you need to do is build it, the rest will come with experience and trusting your people.’

It was just so much to think about and now there was no going back, this was it, the people had come and Barepoint was being rebuilt.

‘You can do this Katrine,’ he said just as I turned away to head into my side of the hall. ‘Take each challenge as it comes and know that you are not alone.’

I wanted to believe him, I really did, but I suddenly felt more alone than I had felt in my entire life, I wanted my father back and my friends, I wanted to hear the children running and playing again. I just wanted my home to be as it once was. I curled up on my bed and wrapped myself around my pillow, feeling my tears fall silently.

I suppose it wasn’t so silent, because I soon felt Elrond placing his hand on my back, I wanted him to hold me, I wanted him to just stay with me for the rest of my life and never let me make any hard choices ever again.

‘Katrine.’ Elrond whispered and carefully he moved behind me so that his body wrapped around me, it was the happiest place I could be, pressed against Lord Elrond’s body, within his comfort and yet I was still crying. His fingers ran through my hair and his lips pressed to my temple, I felt my body warming and my mind beginning to relax as sleep took me.

Chapter link

#elrond x ofc #lord elrond x ofc #elrond #lord elrond #elrond x reader #lord elrond x reader #elrond fic

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