3. Stories of Kanen Hightower

Stories of Kanen Hightower


  • DEFEAT

    Silence and darkness. Kanen lay on the cold stone floor of his cell, covered by the blanket that his friend Smog had brought him. Musing, Kanen thought of Smog as both an imposing armored half-orc, and yet also a loyal friend, as his gift had proved. Kanen had smiled wryly when he saw the cutting tool Smog had wrapped in the blanket, it lay over in the corner of the cell, rusty and unused.

    Sighing heavily, Kanen thought back on the events that had led him here, cast off like a common criminal, forced to endure the taunts and jibes of the coldly malicious Salina, who had just finally left after taunting him mercilessly about his plight. She had laughed as she extinguished the only light, as though that would bother Kanen more than his current condition and predicament.

    It had started so simply. Kanen had noticed and spoke to Rodi in front of the Boar’s Head, asking how his friend was. Rodi replied that Llunved and Alannia had discovered something. Something dark. Something sinister. Rodi said they were in the graveyard…digging for something. Kanen quickly suggested he and Rodi join them, they moved quickly to the graveyard, and saw Llunved, Alannia, Covah, Eledaar and Meril digging at the grave with the largest monument. They had found another doorway to...somewhere buried here.

    Reaching out with his senses Kanen felt a dark presence beneath the door, one he had felt before but he couldn't yet place it. Just as the group was able to force the door open, a great blast of fire engulfed them all. It was decided to close the door to prepare properly, as this was a passage leading into the earth. So the door was again forced closed. Meril and Eledaar then left, saying they would look for help to deal with this menace.

    Finally, the door firmly closed, Kanen stood upon it, saying no one else would enter until they were ready. Suggestions were made about going to town for reinforcements, to deal with this menace in strength, yet then Kanen noticed a form approaching, one that filled him with loathing and hatred...the smiling figure of the ‘fair’ demoness Justinia Norwick approached asking what they were doing digging at this grave.

    Kanen had been bewitched by her twice before already, and had vowed to strike first if he saw her again. With a growl Kanen charged telling her to begone, and Llunved the ranger assisted, as he knew Justinia's true form as well. They were able to drive her off, yet she began yelling how the militia would be coming for Kanen and Llunved, that they would be arrested for attacking her, she being a member of the militia.

    Knowing now their time had been cut short, the group faced a hard decision. Enter this doorway now, or probably be put under arrest when going into town for assistance, thus delaying dealing with this evil indefinitely. A decision was made this evil must be searched out by those present. Kanen and Alannia began their prayers to Helm, Kanen praying for strength for both him and Alannia in the coming ordeal. So with their strongest protection magics in place, the group once again pried open the door. Kanen entered first, keeping his shield directly before him, his golden sword in his hand praying only that if he would die he could die destroying this evil or saving his friends. The others quickly followed behind him.

    They ran for a bit though the damp dark tunnel swallowed by darkness except for their magical light. Kanen turned a final corner in the passage and heard sounds he had hoped he would not hear again. The sounds of earth grinding against earth in elemental fury and the howling shriek of wind and air pent up to the service of some master. He turned the corner and saw them, the elemental slaves that would tear he and his friends apart...and then he saw her. For but a brief moment their eyes locked, his in pain at seeing Ana twisted and bent from her once wild and carefree spirit, into this creature of darkness and death. He looked into her cold, dark eyes for a moment, they still had a mockery of her former life and beauty, and then the elementals struck.

    By now, the rest of the party had entered this room, their death chamber. Kanen was picked up, lofted into the air by the elemental of air, and the earthen creature swatted him as a fly to the far wall. The room spun in red and blackness to him then, as he tried to draw in one painful breath after another. To his credit, Covah tried to keep the young paladin healed, but the earthen elemental continued to throw Kanen about the room as a rag doll. Finally, laying out on the stones, Ana's mocking laughter in his ears, Kanen tried to rise once more from the ground, breathed raggedly through broken ribs and chest, and slumped to the ground, dying. With a final prayer to Helm unfinished on his lips, his last sight was of Ana looking at him with a dark smile of bright shiny teeth as his body went numb and lifeless.

    Darkness.

    A bright flash of light, too bright, and now the return of pain…the pain of wearing mortal flesh, of drawing breath and being alive again. Feeling weaker than he had ever felt, Kanen rolled about on the floor trying to gather some strength to continue to breath, and perhaps enough to stand.

    He looked around, squinting from the light. Feeling the weight of his body and realizing he lay naked on the floor of the Friar's. In fact, everyone was here. Alannia (he looked quickly away from her nakedness), Llunved, Covah, and Rodi. Kanen closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing, slowly gathering his strength.

    Finally he could stand and dressed quickly with what gear hand been found with his body. Scanning the room, he noticed another woman, also naked...yet her’s was familiar to him. In dawning realization, he saw that is was Justinia, who had also been raised. What had killed her, he did not know, but quietly damned the fact she had been brought back. Justinia looked about the room and locked eyes with Kanen, saying that he and Llunved would have time to rest in a jail cell for their attack on her. And though an attempt was made by the Friar at Kanen's insistence, her true nature could not be determined.

    So Kanen walked calmly to the jail, escorted by the brave little Lolita, knowing he had lost this battle for now as well. Kanen noticed Lucia, his fiery headed and tempered barbarian friend looking at him in askance, hand on the hilt of her blade, yet Kanen shook his head in answer, and followed Lolita quietly. Llunved had refused to come along and escaped into the woods, Kanen hoped Llunved was safe. Once at the jail, Lolita did not want to place him in a cell, yet Justinia had other plans. She dismissed Lolita and everyone else who had come along, then bewitched Kanen yet again, convincing him the cell would be good place to be.

    So here he was now. He had once again broken Justinia's spell with the help of Fishel and Kara. Sighing Kanen thought of Kara's sacrifice, speaking of the night Justinia turned succubus, Kanen knew it had been a high price to pay for Kara, to help him. Smiling quietly, Kanen knew Kara's father, who she said was a paladin of Tyr, would be very proud of his daughter for her actions, and her strength of will.

    Thinking now with frustration, Kanen realized he must find a way to protect himself against these attacks against his mind and will. He could not allow himself to continue to be a pawn to evil. Closing his eyes, leaning back against the stones, darkness took him again, yet in this darkness he could rest...and dream. These dreams were of Ana, her laughter and quick smile still full of her mischievous spirit and elven beauty. Yet suddenly a shadow passed over her, and she faded slowly away, while he was unable to do anything but watch in sadness. Kanen turned fitfully in his sleep, then fell into a deeper slumber of darkness.

  • A

    And what a mark, what a mark. To this day i still think of him and regrett that i didnt return to the servers when he still was alive. I hope i left half as much of of a mark on him as has left on me.

    I had to stop playing cause of RL though… can't bring myself to read the rest(the parts im not in) of it since i always planned having my toon return to the server and turn his life upside down again. :x :x :twisted:

    oh well once again i come here to pay my respects.

    Much love to all of u who ran this server and played with me while i was still hooked on this. Morgan Hearst, Attentus Vernet, Vinessa, arUlric... and
    many many more. It was and hopefully still is for all of you who still play.
    Pure Magic.

    love,
    Cila Denòere


  • The Watchful (and others who arrived too recently to know), Kanen's player died of cancer a couple of years ago. Narfell is just one of the places he left a mark.

  • T
    Legion

    I'm really not sure i am aloud to post here or even if this player will see it but i took the time to read these stories and i thought they where absolutely stunning. Truly a player who poured his heart into every wood. Very Very good read, better then most books i have read i'll say that now.

    Triani ~ The Watchful

  • M

    These stories should be moved to NarfellWiki if as well as a profile created for Kanen.


  • Amazing picture that really captures the character…

  • N

    Done

  • L

    [Deleted by user.]


  • A sad, but deserving, bump


  • LOVE'S STRANGER

    She’s different. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but it is true. So many things that I knew about her, from sharing a life together is now changed. It’s not just the memories, though that is part of it. She seems to have different likes and dislikes now. In many ways she’s the same Seven that I’ve loved all my life, yet in other ways…changed.

    It seems mostly little things. The other night she made a mouthwatering meal for us both, which Seven often did, but then we would usually drink water. I’ve never drank much, except for a couple of painful exceptions, but I rarely saw Seven drink anything other than water or tea. This night she requested wine. It was a wonderful meal, and I tried to not give any overt signs that I was surprised by her choice. It was a wonderful night together as well. It is she, I am quite sure of it, though I must admit I did gaze at her with my Gift when she wasn’t watching. She is not some evil image come to haunt me, this much I know.

    Her voice, her musical laughter, the songs she sings as we walk along together, are all so familiar. The other day, as we were walking through the Nars I asked her a simple question, keeping my expression neutral, knowing what answer she would give. I simply asked her if she would wear a helmet if I bought her one. Her reply brought how she is changed into sharp focus. She said she would wear one, if it looked nice enough. That answer shocked me. In all my years of traveling with Seven, no matter how many times I would attempt to bring the subject up, she always refused to wear a helmet. Yet now she said she would. Such a small thing, yet something that stands out when you spend many years with someone.

    I’ve made a promise to her to not keep bringing up her lapse of memory or how she may have used to do things, as it seems to bother or perhaps annoy her. One thing that I found most strange was that I had to explain Jubei to her. That he had once vied for her affections as well, and how he became a lifelong enemy and threat to us both and our children. She didn’t remember him at all, which I must admit I took some small pleasure in, then described him in detail, warning her to be wary of him.

    She is Seven. I know this. Yet she is different. However I find the differences minor and unimportant. Our love continues, I can see it in her eyes, as she can in mine. The letter from Waterdeep should be arriving soon. Hopefully her parents can shed a bit of light on what exactly happened to my wife.


  • FORGOTTEN

    I soon realized that my wife Seven remembered almost nothing of all the years between us, of all the sorrow, hardship, nor even the good and happy times that we had shared. However, she did seem to know me, and realize in glimpses and by the feelings in her heart who I was, and what we meant to one another. She also remembered glimpses of our children and of course of Torm, her Lord…but very little else.

    As she sat next to me in our house, we both sat gazing at the flickering fire, glancing at each other from time to time in the darkened room. Simply thankful that we were together, no matter the circumstances. I thought darkly for a moment what pain I would inflict on whoever had hurt her, whoever had caused this erasure of her memory, so nearly complete. I admitted the possibility that it was some accident, and not caused malevolently, but many years of experience shouted otherwise.

    I had already quickly penned a letter and sent it back to Waterdeep, to find out under what circumstances she had left there and when, from her parents there. I had thought Seven safe, helping care for her aging mother, Evelynn. Hopefully they could shed some light on this dark mystery and help me determine what actions should be taken next, and perhaps hint at what enemy I might face this time.

    I put such thoughts aside as it was very late, and I did not wish to disturb my injured wife with my dark musings. Instead I gathered her into my arms and took her to our bed for the evening. Later she seemed to sleep soundly, as I watched her, keeping her close in my arms.

    The next day, Seven and I set out from our house, and as we entered the Nars, we happened on the young man Nico. My son Durai had told me that Nico had quite a talent for the merchant arts and often had something useful for sale, and would be willing to purchase unusual things to sell to others. Which was something I required. Seven had arrived without armor, weapon, shield and most of her possessions simply gone. While I had been able to supply her with moderately adequate armor already, she deserved and needed better.

    I greeted the young wiry man, observing and evaluating him, as I noticed he was doing the same to me. After explaining that the lovely blonde woman at my side was, surprisingly, Durai’s mother, Nico seemed to want to help us in any way he could. I removed from my pack an ancient, bone scroll case containing a spell that was most rare and powerful, something I had recovered from the fallen lich when we had at last returned him to his place, never to be disturbed again.

    The young merchant’s eyes widened when he saw the rarity and value of the scroll, and in typical merchant fashion, asked me what I would accept for it, instead of suggesting a possible purchase price. I smiled inwardly at his tactic, and explained my circumstances. I was merely seeking enough to purchase proper armor, a weapon, and shield for my wife, Durai’s mother, I reminded almost absently. Nico said that he could not currently make such a deal but would begin to set it in motion and contact me in perhaps a tenday, to which I agreed.

    One dark spot during the discussion was when I requested a sword, Seven spoke up saying that the mace I had secured for her worked fine, and without thinking I returned that she always had used a sword before, before stopping my tongue…but it was already too late. Seven’s eyes turned downcast and she mumbled that she would train and learn again how to use a sword as she did before.

    Once Nico had left, I turned to her, my golden haired beauty, and offered an apology, realizing now that she did not wish to be constantly reminded of what she had lost, especially in front of strangers, and to her, the world only contained strangers, except perhaps for me and our children. She quietly nodded and said she would like if I would quit bringing up her apparent memory loss and perhaps injury, to which I said I replied that I would try to not do so.

    Later that day, we entered our home town of Jiyyd, arm in arm, and saw a very depressed and saddened Sam. Seven impressed me as we spoke to attempt to cheer him. While she may have forgotten names, places, and many other things, she had not forgotten her faith or her Lord. Together she and I spoke for some time to Sam, attempting to help him see the folly of attempting to understand the will of the gods. One can only accept and do as ordered, realizing that you may never understand why. But that why is not important.

    Perhaps with only limited success with Sam as the day drew closed, Seven and I returned to our home once more. It would be some days before I could expect an answer from the letter sent to Waterdeep, even though I had sent it through more than normal means. Until then, I would simply care for my wife, help her recover the best I could, and be prepared for any threat from whatever had hurt her this way. I would not fail her.


  • UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL

    I had the note in my hand, from Friar Fred of Norwick, as I approached the town's so familiar walls. In it, he simply said that he needed to see me in a matter of some urgency. How the good Friar had known I had returned to the region just the night before, I did not know. I suppose he has his sources of information.

    I was still in a state of shock, stunned to hear of the death of poor Robyn. Anakore looked almost grey in complexion as he spoke of her death, and I realized that he and she had been romantically involved during my long absence. I had mixed feelings about that. Anakore, was someone I was never sure how much could be really trusted, and he and the fire mage Skyla had been wed, I thought, yet apparently that was already over, though there was a child born of that brief union.

    Robyn…my thoughts now turned to years ago, when we first met, she but a girl not yet a woman. As I entered the gates of Norwick, I remembered back also to when I had carried her dead form over my shoulder and took her to the Friar's to bring her back to life once more...yet that would not happen again, it seemed.

    She had apparently died in a battle with Narfell's most ancient enemy, the Defiler. It pained me that I was not permitted to part of this battle, perhaps I could have prevented her death if I had, yet my Lord had sent me far away at this time, to deal with problems of His choosing, not mine. Often was the case, these days. Either by dream or by message I would receive my orders. Where I must go and what I must do, fulfilling the work of Helm my Lord as he commanded.

    Musing as I walked, in my dark mood of hearing of Robyn's death, I thought a moment of how she once hoped she and I would be together, and how it did almost happen, when things were so very strained between Seven and I. Yet in the end, my love for my wife proved stronger, and things were ended between Robyn and I, before they ever began.

    Just as my thoughts drifted now towards my wife, who was of course in far Waterdeep with her parents, I walked past the well in Norwick and heard a melodious voice that lived forever in my heart, and I at first thought it was a trick of my memory that I thought I heard it now, perhaps in some guilt for my thoughts of Robyn...yet as I turned to look at the bench at the well...there she was.

    Golden hair, eyes so blue, a smile that made my heart flutter when she directed it at me even to this day, it was the love of my life, my dear, lovely wife, Seven. Mouth gaping open, I walked over to her, a thousand questions conflicting in my head, how was she here, when had she arrived, why hadn't she come straight to our home...and why was she dressed as she was? She was dressed more as a peasant woman than the mighty and powerful priestess of Torm she had become through the years.

    Also...there was something about her face. She seemed a bit younger, youthful somehow, as if the many sorrows and pain she had faced had been erased, leaving her free of their dark burden...words I would soon realize were more true that I knew.


  • TALES OF THE SON

    Durai's Log 16

    _It started as a pleasant day. Shay and I had been spending a great deal of time in Jiyyd, not traveling much at all, I suppose adjusting to being married and making the house into our home. Shay had made a few changes here and there, threatened to remove a wall or two, but it looked mostly like the same house still.

    The house of my father. It had been more than two years now since I returned to Narfell and Jiyyd to search for him, yet he remained missing. At least he was likely not dead, whatever fate had befallen him. Shay was out in the garden, planting some sort of flowers that she liked, I was in the house, sipping a cup of tea at the table. I was thinking perhaps we should go out that day, out of Jiyyd where I might better learn the progress of the search, and perhaps even find a way to aid in it, when it began.

    I dropped the cup, watching it hit the floor and shatter as I doubled over in pain so intense that I could not feel or think of anything else. My chest felt on fire and my head felt about to burst, as I attempted to draw breath, yet unable to, and unable to voice the scream that lie quiet in my throat. Suddenly I was not alone in the room. A transparent figure of an older woman was standing over me, looking down, apparently amused by my agony and condition.

    She shook her finger before my face, as though one would scold a small child over some minor infraction and said in a mocking voice:

    “You broke the rules. I’ve been listening and watching to these fools you and your father call friends. One of them actually mentioned me, which I found surprising until I realized it was from that damned letter that your father left and you found. You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you boy? Well if you think these halfwits can find me, you’re sadly mistaken. Soon I’ll be leaving this pesthole of a land and my new armored decoration will of course be coming with me. But you keep hoping, Tormite. It only makes the game more interesting. Besides, since you broke the rules, now your dear mother and sister are now fair game as well.”

    With that, she faded away into nothing and I was able to draw my first breath in what had seemed like many minutes, I crumpled to the floor, my limbs shaking uncontrollably, the absence of pain as sudden as it had begun, yet I felt weak and clammy as though with fever.

    Just then, Shalia walked back into the house, calling my name. I attempted to answer; yet it was more a weak croak than a voice I responded with. She helped me up and into a chair and with a very distraught and worried look on her beautiful face, asked me what had happened, what was wrong. I told her all that occurred the best I could though I could barely speak, then stumbled to our room and bed, my brain slowly recovering and beginning to race, trying to think of what I could do, or what I could have done differently, though it might well be too late to save any of us.

    The next day I awoke, but I feel weak and slowly getting weaker.

    May Torm save us all._


  • FROZEN

    Time had little meaning. He could not move. He did not breathe. He knew neither fatigue nor rest. Only his mind was still active and under his own control. He could only stare at whatever passed before his eyes, unable to look away, and listen to whatever was sound was made within the range of his hearing. She took full advantage of this.

    Most of the time, he was left standing in magical darkness and silence. During these times, he tried to concentrate on who he was, the faces of the people he had left behind, and still retained a spark of hope that he might one day return to. Attempting to keep the madness of being unable to control his own body, of being a prisoner locked in an unmoving cell that was now his body, he would think back on his life. From his earliest memories before he was taken to the Hold, his years of training, then coming to Narfell. And his life since then. Of the mistakes he had made, the few victories he had been allowed, the lives he had saved and the multitude he had taken. He would think on his service to his Lord. Asking the silent question over and over.

    Other times, when it would amuse her, she would allow him to see and sometimes to hear. She made sure he knew that she was the ruler of his world now. Only she decided when he could see and what sights he was allowed. She controlled what sound entered his ears. She was a master of illusion, he had to remind himself time and time again. He wondered often why she hated him so. What had he done to her? She whom he could barely remember as a boy, now her image forever burned into his mind.

    The sights and sounds she allowed him were varied to say the least. At times it was the image of Jubei and Seven together as impassioned lovers. Other times it was Seven, Durai, and Revanna all slowly being flayed alive, their screams sounding so real. She would mock his sacrifice as failed, laughing that she had found a way around their contract and bargain and so they had not been saved at all.

    Other times were perhaps worse, as he wasn’t sure all the sights he saw were mere illusions. She tortured others, men and women both most horribly; their screams of pain and anguish so loud, so ragged as their lives were torn from them. Were these real? Perhaps he would never know. She showed him the death of his parents again and again, how they called out for mercy from one they thought they could trust and yet found none.

    The worst times though, that ate at his heart and spirit most of all, was when she would make it seem as though he was finally being rescued. Here was Sam, Robyn, Vino, Kharbeh, Adam, Alannia, and even Lucia, come to rescue him at last. Sometimes she made it seem as though they were so close to finally freeing him, but it always ended the same. In the torture and dismemberment of his friends before his eyes, their voices shrieking for him to save them, while he stood unable to close his eyes or even turn away.

    She could not touch him. That was part of the bargain and deal that was struck. At times he wondered if death wouldn’t be easier. While she could not touch his flesh, she repeatedly attacked his spirit and his mind with these insidious illusions and scenarios.

    At times, it became difficult to tell his real memories from the detailed scenes she would play out before him. Had Seven cheated on him? Had Revanna been killed? Did he and Robyn really have an affair that had ended in her death by a jealous, raging Seven? Had Durai turned to Bane as his Lord? So many conflicting images, it was becoming harder and harder to tell illusion from reality.

    He had only the few allies of his Lord to help maintain his sanity, the ones she could not see but were always watching, and helping him see far beyond her prison. Durai married to a Sunite? Had he spoken to her? Seven growing thin and weak in Waterdeep? Which were the real sights and events and which were the ones meant only to drive him mad?

    Was the difference that important anymore?

    Darkness. And silence.


  • TALES OF THE SON

    Durai's Log 15

    _We should be back in Norwick tomorrow. The ordeal is finally over, but there are questions remaining that are left unanswered.

    When I arrived to the camp where the auction was to be held, I posed as a bored mercenary and entered the headquarters of the group that was apparently holding the auction where Shay was to be sold. Not only that, but I had been told that this Captain liked to ‘sample the wares’ of the women he sold, so that I knew that I needed to hurry as quickly as I could.

    When I was told to go into the Captain’s room as he was the only one who had the final say on anyone wanting to join them, my heart nearly stopped as I saw the captain was naked, and quite busy with a very familiar blonde and equally naked woman in his arms, returning his passion and lust. Shay.

    Except it wasn’t really, I was quite sure. I had been warned that Chelseah could take the form of others and the more I heard of her, the more this sounded like some strange game she would play, appearing as Shay. After the Captain was finished with her, she seemed to drift off to sleep. He took me back to the main room, and asked me why I wanted to join. I gave him the same story, that I was easily bored and looking for a good job with some excitement and heard he was looking for help. I drank some with the Captain, a very strong ale. Fortunately, he was soon affected by it, and I was able to fake drinking most of it, though the amount I did drink made my head swim more than a little.

    He soon passed out, and I stumbled about the place, trying various doors as the Captain had told me I could stay in the room of one of his men who was missing, a man named Xaris who was his second in command. The others seemed to find my antics humorous. I had poured a great deal of the ale on myself, to be sure to smell like I had been drinking much more than I actually had. I finally found stairs leading down and pretended to stumble down them, where I found a vast cave. To my right I heard a guard yelling at someone telling her to be quiet or he was going to come in there and shut her up. Stumbling and reeling that direction, I introduced myself as the newest member of their company and offered to watch the barred door for him while he went upstairs to drink some, himself. When I mentioned the Captain was already passed out, he finally agreed and off he went.

    I had looked closely at him but saw no obvious key. I wanted to find out who was in that room without drawing too much attention, and if it were Shay, I would get her out and we would flee together. The gate seemed quite secure however, and as I leaned back on it, trying to think, suddenly the woman was behind me, starting to reach through the bars, perhaps for my throat before she stopped. Turning, I was able to see her blonde hair much disheveled, her face dirty, her clothing mere rags. She was still the most beautiful woman in the world to me. It was Shay.

    We whispered back and forth quickly and quietly, she explained that only Chelseah had the key but apparently it turned out she was not to be sold after all. The only thing she knew is that she was to be taken west in a few days, but not to where. I can only thank Torm that Shay said she was unharmed and had been left alone, though the Captain had tried to get her to enter his bed willingly.

    My desperate plan was to go upstairs, confront Chelseah and take the key from her, by force if necessary. Something Shay said about the man called Xaris, this supposed second in command made me pause however. I can’t even now remember what it was, but I decided to find him if I could, and speak with him. I needed an ally desperately, and it sounded more from what Shay had overheard and what I learned from the guards that Xaris might be more than a second in command, and an unhappy one at that.

    The guard returned, Shay and I quickly saying goodbye for now, and she went back deep into her cell. The guard thanked me, and I went back up stairs. Since I was to stay in this Xaris’ room, I thought maybe I could learn something by searching his room, so asked again where it was. I was told, however that Xaris had returned and was already in his room. I decided I had little left to lose and went to the door, opening it as I knocked, closing the door quietly behind me.

    What I learned by speaking to him I won’t reveal now at Shay’s request that I not speak of it, but suffice it to say that a bargain was struck and that he agreed for reasons of his own to get the key from Chelseah and he would give Shay and I at least a chance of escape, albeit reluctantly. Chelseah was in her Sunite robes, her face covered when we entered the Captain’s room, but after an angry exchange with Xaris, pressed the key into my hands and told me she would be calling out for the guards shortly. Xaris seemed to think this reasonable.

    I quickly ran out of the room, taking Shay’s belongings and the key. As I ran down the dank, stone steps to the cave below, I heard Chelseah begin her shouts of intruder. I blocked the door the best I could after shutting it behind me, and continued down, and faced two ready guards, swords drawn. The fight was vicious but quick. I had no time for defense, attacking the best I could, taking more chances than I normally would. I had to reach Shay, free her from the cell, then we had to flee out the back exit of the cave, to the docks beyond.

    I finally finished the last of the two, hearing the guards upstairs trying to break down the door, and quickly ran to Shay’s cell door and freed her. She quickly dressed and we ran. We encountered a few more of the Captain’s men along the way, but were able to win our freedom, bloodied but alive. At the docks we secured passage aboard a ship and fled away from the island.

    Shay and I had our much-belated wedding night aboard the ship, and I decided that Shay needed rest from her captivity before the long journey back to Narfell. We went back to Silverleaf in Aglarond for a few days of rest, Shay showing me around the village where she had been raised. There was, somewhat to my chagrin, a religious ceremony at the temple that required the Sunite faithful to be naked. However I attended as well, fully armored and armed. I remained at Shay’s side, giving anyone who seemed to get too close to her a hard look, which was enough to stop any plans they may or may not have had on my wife. I never had to actually draw my sword once.

    Questions remain about this mysterious Xaris and who he might be. And of Chelseah. Will either of them be threats in the future to us? Finally, for reasons I will not detail here, Shay has asked me to not speak of her capture and our ordeal. I have agreed, for now. I will not lie, but won't speak of these events to anyone, at least for now. In any case, Shay and I are both quite weary, but should be back in our bed tomorrow. Praise and thanks to Torm and to Sune that we have returned safely. Tomorrow I must check to see what progress has been made on the search for my father._


  • TALES OF THE SON

    Durai's Log 14

    _Shay has been betrayed by her own. The Sunite that took her is apparently no Sunite at all, or at least not any more. My chase has taken me to Silverleaf where Shay was raised and have met with the enigmatic High Priestess Cathrine. She told me the story of her sister priestess Chelseah. Of how she was badly disfigured in a fire and apparently it ate at her soul, until she secretly turned to Cyric to make her beautiful once more.

    Why this twisted woman went to the trouble to capture Shay I am unsure, but I have learned of what fate awaits my love if I am unable to stop it. Shay is to be sold as a slave at a secret auction in the Pirate Isles, where I find myself now. With the help of Lady Cathrine, I have been able to make my way here. I am now on a caravan heading toward this secret auction on this island that seems little more than sand named Hell. I am unsure how I will secure Shay's freedom. However, I must find a way. Torm please show me a way._


  • TALES OF THE SON

    Durai's Log 13

    ::His writing is little better than a hurried scrawl::

    I have little time. I am gasping for breath, I've been pushing myself hard, rushing south as quick as I am able. When I awoke and found Shay gone, my heart felt as torn away as she has been from my arms. I found a few clues, thank Torm, and think I know their destination, or at least where they originated from. I wish I would have had time to leave to leave word for Sam, or someone, but I felt that if I hurried, if I rushed I might soon catch them. Such has not been the case. I feel strength returning to my limbs. Back to the chase. Torm give me strength.


  • TALES OF THE SON

    Durai's Log 12

    _Yesterday was my birthday. Shay and Nico both got together and gave me a great gift. A new masterfully made sword. Miss Robyn brought pastries and a fine wine, and Miss Ly’Ahnna gave me a gift as well. Hopefully this new year of my life will go better than the last one ended.

    The other day, as I was walked up onto Sam’s hill, the man known as Juno was there, and apparently heard for the first time, from me talking to another, that my father was missing. He mentioned that had he known this, he would have gotten into much more mischief than he already had, and then his next words made me see red with anger. He claimed that my mother probably wouldn’t be too concerned or be looking for my father as she had a boyfriend, a lover.

    In my mind’s eye, he was already lying sprawled out, mouth bloody, apologizing for his foul words. I quickly challenged him to a duel which he at first refused, though I continued to demand for one hotly. Finally he agreed and the battle for the honor of my mother’s name began. I think I actually hit him once. My defensive fighting allowed me to last some time, but the eventual victor was never in doubt. The man fought expertly and slowly wore me down. Despite my best efforts, it was I who lie on the grass, mouth bloody and unconscious and he stood over me victorious. I had fought an honorable duel. I hadn’t used magic against him, or to heal myself, of course.

    This was yet another painful reminder of something I knew already but had forgotten in my anger. I was not my father. I would never be the Paladin, the warrior, the knight that he was. Though I had been taught that honor must be defended, by sword point if need be, I saw now the man had simply goaded me into a fight for his own amusement. Walking away would have been the best action for me, Shay helped me later see. What was worse was that because both Shay and I were angry, things became strained between us and Rick and Aaimie, through no real fault of theirs.

    Shay and I walked off, and then in my frustrated anger, I said things to her as well that I shouldn’t have before I finally came to my senses, calmed down, and realized all this and quickly apologized to Shay. I still need to set things right with Rick and with Aaimie. When Juno happened along again, he said he remembered the name of my mother’s supposed lover and said that it was Jubei, which made me laugh. I was laughing more at myself for fighting over something so ridiculous, I saw now. Jubei had sought to kill my mother and father for many years, and claimed that he would take Revanna and I, claims he never fulfilled. I would have thought the man Juno could have at least come up with the name of someone who might have been believable. The more fool, I. I did suggest, quite calmly to Juno that he should keep that story to himself unless he had proof, unless he wished Sam to hear the lies he was telling about the wife of one his best friends.

    Shay and I went on into Norwick, where some of the people there wished me a good birthday after Shay announced it at the well, a bit to my chagrin. Ly’Ahnna apparently already knew what day it was and had a small gift ready for me. Shay, myself, Ly’Ahnna, and a monk who’s name escapes me now went out into the deep woods to patrol against the goblins. All returned safely, thank Torm, though it was close at a few points. Shay really needs to rely more on her bow and be a bit more cautious in combat, we both later discussed.

    Shay and I returned home, Miss Robyn dropped her present off and then left. Shay gave me the new sword as a gift, so now I can return Sam’s sword to him. Shay and I spent the remainder of the evening together, in expressions of passion and love that I won’t detail here.

    One final thought that I feel I must write is that this was the first birthday that Revanna and I have had apart, and I haven’t seen her yesterday or today. Where could she be?_


  • While sitting on the hillside near Jiyyd, after finishing writing the latest log entry into his book, Durai began to put the book away into his pack when it began. It started with a feeling he was being branded, his chest on fire, the pain grew and continued until he could only sit limply in the grass, pale and sweating, unable to call out for help or in pain.

    The agony continued for what seemed a long time to the young man, though was likely less than a minute or two. Just when he knew he couldn't survive another moment, he was released. The pain gone, and he fell back onto the hill, blackness mercifully taking him.

    Second warning.

    The voice spoke these two words then the robed and cowled form left, leaving the young man lying in the grass.


  • TALES OF THE SON

    Durai's Log 11

    _The pace of events only seems to quicken more and more each day. And yet, the more I learn in my search to find my father, the more hesitant I am to write such details in this log as it could be found and used by our enemies, I will therefore, continue to be vague when I feel I must.

    Shay returned much sooner than expected, surviving a terrible ordeal that I believe begins to show her true metal. Her revelations of what occurred during her journey may be key in our search for my father. She now wears a ring of engagement from me, that I was able to purchase in Peltarch, I am happy to say. I must admit here though, that our relationship has had it’s ups and downs in the days since her return, but nothing has occurred or been said that we weren’t able to put right, once reason prevailed. Though we are both so young, (Shay’s surprise announcement of her birthday and my reaction isn’t something I need to include in detail, I don’t believe) we seem very comfortable in each other’s presence and being with her simply feels right. We have had a few disagreements about issues of faith, she being of Sune and I of Torm, but I feel we will work successfully through them, as our bond of love grows stronger each day.

    On a sadder note, while visiting the local healer Vroka, I spied the beaten and torn body of a woman lying in the repose of death there. Then I realized who it was. Yolande the sorceress, who seemed so tortured from her terrible upbringing and childhood was the woman. Robbed in death of her beauty, her strange eyes open wide in horror of her obviously painful death. When I asked Vroka about her returning to life, the healer sadly told me that Yolande’s spirit had apparently been taken by a powerful, evil force and that it would not return her to life, despite the healer’s efforts. I’ll have to be sure to tell Nico and Sam. Shay was concerned that the young woman would attempt to change my affections to her, even though I knew that my feelings of love are only for Shay, but now, the matter seemed ended once and for all.

    Lady Diams, as she prefers I call her now, has returned as well, bearing what news she found on her journeys. I know that I angered her with my explanation of why I chose Torm and not Helm to follow as my Lord. But the truth remains. Torm is entirely of Goodness, there is no taint of evil allowed in his followers, yet to Helm Evil and Good are equal, Order and Law being above all things. Telling this to a Paladin of such a god was not wise and was something I should have left unspoken, but the damage is already done. I miss when she asked me to simply call her Alannia, but see no way to unsay what I have said. Time will tell, I suppose.

    Revanna grows stronger in her faith to the Eternal Watcher, and is often busy with her own affairs. Strangely, though we now live in the same house, I see little of her, she being gone, or I being gone while she is there. Perhaps she is avoiding me, perhaps she was told what I said to Lady Diams, or knows my reasons though unspoken to her. I am unsure.

    I have written a letter to my mother telling her of what has been happening, to keep strong in her faith that we will find my father and return him to her. I have also asked her what she knows of the strange druidess Ly’Ahnna, and the claims that she has made that my mother was barren and unable to have children until she interceded and in so doing, helped both Revanna and I to be born. I am very curious on what my mother’s reply will be.

    Things continue. The search continues. And we await news from someone on what they may have been able to learn. I will pray to Torm for my Shay, my mother and my father, and for us all to assist us in this time and to allow us to find my father and rescue him safely._