3. Karion's Walk With Corellon Larethian

Karion's Walk With Corellon Larethian


  • The battle raged on as the Old Wolf fell to the ground. Taking his final breath, Karion, saw his life flashed before his eyes. In this final moment he now knew things he had forgotten and had been reminded of things he remembered well. He saw himself as a small elfling, his father standing tall, teaching him to fire a bow. He saw himself with his brother, Darion, tracking the family meal. He saw himself with his mother on the day they had recieved word of his brother's death. Karion saw his very first friends in Narfell, now either dead or gone on their way. He saw his first love, Tassabra, and felt the heartache of driving her away. He saw his brothers and sisters of the Wolves and felt warmth in his heart. Karion saw his one true love, Sasha, leaning over him, her words he could not understand. She leaned closer, speaking too soft for him to hear. Karion then closed his eyes as if to kiss her and then there was nothing.

    Karion had no idea how long he had been unconscious nor did he care. His first thought was it had been a vision of his future but, then he realized something was wrong. He rises slowly to his feet, looking around into the vast nothingness of the Fugue Plane. As he looks around he sees a familiar face. "Father", he says in his native language, "you are here as well?" The visage of Karion's father nods, motioning him to follow. Karion then looks back, not sure where back is, and lets out one last howl as a final farewell to his friends. He then turns following the visage.

    In an instant, Karion finds himself standing in the Plane of Arvandor, home to the Seldarine. A majestic elf with long golden blonde hair and shining armor with the symbol of the crescent moon upon his chest, stands before him. "Welcome brother", the blonde elf says in the elven tongue. Karion stands there, unable to speak, staring in amazement. The elf smiles, "You know who I am?". Karion nods slightly. The elf then smiles once more, "I don't recall you losing the ability to speak, brother."
    Karion then shakes his head, "What does one say to the creator, the protector of elven kind?" "What does one say to the one he has given his life to, in his own way?", he asked as he bowwed his head and dropped to one knee. He looks up to the great elven diety, Corellon Larethian, "How may I serve you, oh great one." Corellon smiles, motioning Karion to follow, "Come, we have alot to discuss."

    The elven diety waves a hand and a portal appears before him. "Come" he beckons Karion as he steps into the portal. Karion steps through instantly arriving in the most beautiful forest he had ever seen. He smiled with joy seeing various animals and plants that had gone extinct on Toril. "Welcome to the House of Nature" Corellon said cheerfully. There was true happiness in Karion's eyes from that moment on. "It… it's beyond words" he said hesitantly. Corellon smiles, "I thought you might like it here." "Come, let us walk among the beauty of the forest" He turns walking deeper into the forest.

    The two walked and talked for what seemed to Karion to be an eternity. The two spoke of things in the past and of things yet to come. Karion learned then of Cyric's attempt to corrupt his brother wolf. He learned of Lo'en's demise and that his half-human sister, of the Wolves, was somewhere in that very forest. So many things he had learned on the walk with Corellon. So many things he had an eternity to ponder or so he thought.

    "Karion" Corellon said in a firm voice, "your friends on Toril, they miss you greatly and personally, I feel they need you. Besides, I am not yet ready for you. I just summoned you here to let you know that all hope is not yet lost. Go now, be amongst the living once more, if the living will have you." At that moment the elven diety blessed the elves of the Wolves council and a devote by the name of Vell'Cam.

    While meditating a vision of Karion falling in battle come to the blessed. The bloodstained wolf's fang lying in bloodied grass. He looks up as if into each one's eyes, pleading for help.


  • Karion enjoyed the coming decades with his family, the Wolves. Then one day….
    A dark form enters the camp without making so much as a whisper. Six wimpers softly as he catches the familiar scent in the night air. The wolf sentry starts to bolt to the lowwer ground but stops abruptly, just wagging his tail.
    The form moves past Grivel's Tree sliding a slender hand across the trunk. The slender form moves quickly from shadow to shadow towards the den proper, remaining unseen by any who may be around. At the opening, the figure pulls a bottle from somewhere beneath the flowing cloak. Upon drinking the potion the slender form begins to disappear.
    Without so much as a whisper the invisible form moves quickly through the den to the Wolves' sleeping quarters. An ancient looking chest, covered in decades worth of dust, slowly opens. One by one, items begin to rise from the chest then vanish in thin air. First, a fine iron longsword, then a battered shield, many potion bottles, and two fine rapiers. As slowly as it opened the chest closes once again. A few moments later Six wimpers once again. A keen eye may have seen his fur flatten, momentarily, on the right side of his neck.
    Suddenly, an arrow streaks through the air slamming into the target across the way. A dark, slender form appears to Six's left. The form sits on the ground allowing his feet to dangle over the ledge above the camp's entrance. Six promptly lays across the form's lap, enjoy the attention he so rarely receives anymore. The form looks down at the aging wolf and smiles. "Like you, my old friend, I too am getting too old for these games" the forms says in the melodic language of the elves. "The time of the old wolf has passed. The time of the cub is upon us." the melodic voice continues. "Even here, the safest place in all of Narfell, I can feel death's grip getting closer and closer", the voice proclaims sadly. "Now, I am too old and too tired to continue to run from it."
    The sun rises and signs of life once again returns to the camp below. It doesn't take long before someone takes notice of the slender form seemingly asleep next to Six on the hill above. Upon closer investigation they realize that the form, dressed in black wizard's robes with twin rapiers on his hips, is actually Karion Silverbow ("The Old Wolf") is in fact sleeping the sleep of death. With no visible marks the cause of Karion's death in unknown though, in truth he had given up, Karion Silverbow, The Old Wolf, had simply given up his will to live.

    Tala upon finding the body cries openly. She speaks softly as she lifts the old wolf gently holding him against her as if he were a baby and moves him towards Grivel's tree.

    She speaks softly in the melodic language of the elves, "You can have the sword back."

    Working carefully she removes his things from his body begining the process of preparing the body for burial. She sings what few elven mourning songs she has picked up as well as a smattering of other elven songs. She leaves him resting under the tree for others to come and say their goodbyes.

    Jerrick comes by as he has been seen flitting in and out of the den often these days, and comes across the scene, slowing down from his fast trot to a complete stop with a look of surprise, then disappointment.

    He sits on the rock that Grivel's tree sprouts from, while the wind blows his hair out of his face, and ruffles Karion's hair as well.
    "I hope you feel that ours was time well spent, brother.", he tells him, patting the shoulder of his friend lightly.

    Jerrick then turns thoughts to what his friend would want done with his form, once people have said their goodbyes. Stoneshape a place here in the den? Or interred in the ground under the sky? Yes... that seems more fitting.

    A strange wind begins softly and picks up speed howling through the camp. The leaves on Grivel's tree shimmer and strain against the wind until one falls silently down to land on Karion's still form.

    ((Thanks to all of those who contributed to the story. A special thanks to the Wolves of Narfell for making my story worth telling. I love you all.))


  • After resting up and gathering much needed supplies, in Ormpur, the elf's saviors press southward. Along the way, lead by unknown forces, they encounter several creatures. A fire spirit demands they turn back and they refuse. Determined not to let them pass the spirit attacks the group of friends. The spirit was strong against the group's attacks as it nearly ended Sam's life. Sam, then enraged with anger, mustered up all of his strength and destoyed the spirit but didn't stop there. He continued to beat the creature until there was nothing left but a large hole in the ground, scorched by the spirits flames. Sam, then too injured to continue, headed back to Ormpur where he would await the other's return.
    The determined group pressed on a bit more cautiously than before. They came up on a troll mumbling in a language unknown to them all. The troll, lifting stones as if looking for something, spots the group and fixxes his eyes on Tindra in her alternate form. He rushes straight for Tindra and the wolves cut him down easily. Little did they know they could have, probably, avoided the fight with the starving troll by offering a bit of food for it was scarce in the area.
    Pressing on they encountered some Orcs guarding the entrance to the cave. Easily dispersing the orcs they walk into the cave not knowing what awaited them. Inside two orcs and an umberhulk seemed to be playing a game or something. An orcish shaman enraged by the frivelous and childlike play destroyed the umberhulk and passed on a threat to the other's if this continued. The shaman then went back to his working on an ultimate weapon against all elven kind. The key, he found, was in the bones of the elves themselves. Casting spell after spell, the shaman was nearing the moment of truth. Something was amiss and he new it as the group came forth striking his guards down with ease and then turning towards him. The shaman frantically attempted to cast the final spell before a single arrow flew through the air burrying itself in the orc's chest.
    The orc fell to the ground, the skull of the fallen elf rolled across the cave floor.
    With their prize in hand the group travells back to the wolves den with little resistance. There the elven priestess of Corellon Larethian awaits them. As a reward for helping all of elven kind, she whispers a prayer and the skull begins to form itself a body, organs, muscle, skin, and hair.
    Karion lies lifeless on the ground, the silence in the air was deafening broken only by a sudded gasp for air as the fallen elf takes his first breath. As his eyes open for the first time in years, the wolves around him rejoice in having their brother returned to them. Giving him clothes to cover himself and weapons to defend himself, he prepares his tired soul for weeks of rest befoer he ventures into the wild that is Narfell.


  • Everyone sits, gathered by the fire, speaking at random of the visions. Adlanail is disturbed by this and takes his place at the speaking stone. He holds his hands in the air, quieting the array of voices. He takes a deep breath, beginning to weave the tale of the visions he and Grivel had been chosen to receive. Grivel occasionally nods his approval of the elven entertainer's interpretation of the vision. A knock comes from the gates into camp. Quietly, so as not to disturb Adlanail's story, Grivel moves up the slight incline of the canyon walls to investigate the visitor. Looking down, he sees an attractive elven woman dressed in elegant robes. He cautiously inquires her reason for visiting the Wolves’ camp. Understanding the risk she is taking by coming to the encampment, begins to summarize the reason of her arrival. Grivel turns without a word moving back down the canyon wall to where his brothers and sisters stand ready for trouble. He motions for the gates to be opened. Chiero swings the gates open gazing into the cave to insure his brother’s and sister’s safety. Sa'skia, priestess of Corellon Larethian, passes through the opened gates in a dignified manner. The sound of the closing gates reverberate throughout the canyon as she moves towards the fire. There she declares her concern for the old wolf, Karion. She states that an Orcish Shaman has apprehended the elf’s skull and plans to use it for his own wicked intentions. As Tindra translates the elves’ conversation to Chiero. Kharbeh, being skeptical, questions the priestess. The priestess bows her head in silent prayer and Kharbeh falls to her knees, her hands covering her face. Adlanail leaps forward demanding an explanation for his sister’s condition. The priestess accounts for the blessing she set upon the doubting mind of the elven pixie. Kharbeh, rising to her feet with tears in her eyes, reveals the visions she had observed. Satisfied, Adlanail backs down and the priestess reveals the location of both the Shaman and their brother’s remains to be somewhere beyond Ormpur. She then leaves to allow those gathered to determine their actions to the news.

    Properly provisioned Adlanail, Grivel, Kharbeh, Tala, Tindra, Chiero, Andu, and Tala’s significant other Arandor leave the camp for Ormpur. Upon exited the cave to the Nars the group was ambushed by Eastland Marauders. Everyone survived though, Grivel took the majority of hits from the bandit’s blades and mace and was cursed by a heretic. Wounds healed, they press on to Jiyyd to visit the local priest and have the Grivel’s burden lifted. The group reaches the near east road, encountering a few hobgoblins along the way to Jiyyd. Once to Jiyyd they rest up, get Grivel tended to and meet up with Sam, Half-orc Paladin of Helm. Upon Learning of the group’s intentions he offers his massive blade in service to his fallen friend. The group accepts his offer and the leave town towards Ormpur.

    Traveling onward, talking amongst themselves, they hear a loud growl. Before they knew what happened a werewolf leaps from the trees scratching and clawing at Grivel. He tries to escape the lycanthrope’s attacks while the others fire their arrows and bolts at the vicious beast. In an array of flying arrows and swinging blades, the beast falls but, not before he bites Grivel on the calf of his leg. Inspecting his wounds, Grivel, finds the bite. Worriedly he talls the others that he was, in-fact bitten by the werewolf. They rush of in search of the herb, belladona, and administer it immediately in order to prevent infection of the disease of lycanthropy. Healed up and ready to venture forth, they press on.

    Traveling through the snow and ice, the group is set upon a pack of worgs and winter wolves. The rangers of the group began calming the magical wolfish creatures so as not to slay them. Soon there were too many and the calmed beasts began to attack hostile creatures in order to protect their new friends. Sam, also intending to protect those around him, threw his massive body in the middle of the battle. Unarmed he began to toss Worgs around like rag dolls, trying his best not to injure them. Then a yelp from one of the worgs, who had slammed upon a large stone which was concealed beneath the snow, could be heard amongst the growls and snarls. This angered the druid, Andu. The druid demanded that Sam cease in his actions against the creatures but, Sam saw little choice as he was being clawwed and bitten. Finally, the creatures backed down. Limping off into the forest, the wolfish creatures had dispersed. The group tended to their wounds and pressed on to Ormpur where they would rest up before heading south.

  • N

    Adlanail approaches Grivel in his corner " Brother, this is a matter for the wolves as a whole. We must plan what we are to do about these visions "
    Grivel nods gravely then decides. "Then we must put out a call for the wolves to assemble. I will send my hawk aloft and have her call..any wolf in the pass will surely come to investigate"
    Adlanail smiles " Aye..good… What about those in the Rawlins ?"
    "Then we must send someone there to gather such as they may....
    BIL-BOW !"
    Bilbow comes trotting up " Aye Grivel ?"
    "Bilbow...head down to the Rawlins, seek out any wolf or such druids as will aid us and have them come here with utmost haste "
    "Roight y'are brudder" and with that he sets off at a fast lope.
    The rest of the group sit down to wait.

    After an hour a rustling of twigs from the branches above heralds Kharbeh's drop into the campfire ring. Her pixie smile delights in the groups startled expressions.
    " I talked to the tree..it would not shay anything of Karionsh plight. I do not think it knowsh."
    The group are about to question her further when a bear strolls through the gate. Unperturbed Grivel quickly recognises it as Andu. Adlanail Grivel and Andu go into the den to discuss and brief Andu who resumes human shape once more. As they re-appear they find Tala and Arandor have joined the group outside in the canyon.
    As they sit down to discuss the visions Tindra enters the canyon and after making herself comfortable at Andu's feet, joins in the discussion.

    (( to be continued ))

  • G

    Grivel walks through the gate as Adlanail finishes his tale. Kharbeh brushes by him on the way out of the camp. "Sharry Old Wolf, there ish shomshing I mush do."
    He nods to the assembled Wolves, and then walks over to sit among them. He turns first to Adlanail. "So brother, you too have had the vision? I was beginning to doubt my sanity. Now I can see that our brother reaches out to us from wherever he may be, and we must be there for him. Chiero, I thank you for your blind faith and your offer to help. I fear we may need all the strength of the Wolves to succeed in this task. For now, we can do nothing but wait for another sign. When it comes, we must act quickly if we hope to save him." He stands and walks off to a corner of the camp where he can think.


  • Chiero looks down at his gloves and tugs at them lightly, looking a bit dark and sullen in his sallow face. He looks about, almost unfamiliar with the canyon, having not been here in what seemed ages. His children were safe, for now, Dania kept them close at the temple, and Attentus was contacting Rith for their safekeeping. He turned his sunken eyes to the rest of his family, seing visions of his twins imposed on each of his brothers and sisters. He'd never met Karion, but a dead brother was a brother nonetheless. He looks down long and hard at his hands once more, steels up some resolve, and speaks.

    "Now, I aint never met this Karion, but I hear nothin' but good things. Shaped druids always recanize 'is smell on me when I pet their snouts, where'er I go in the Rawlins, an' they're damn well nostalgic. This guy strike me as a good sort."

    "I tell me wife not t' lose herself when I die, I'll always come back fer her an' my children. I know I can't keep this promise wit'out yer 'elp. Chiero grins widely, looking ghostly but full of fire. I'd be a damn hypocrite if I didn't stick both my stones on the line fer my family."

    "So…..anyone know where Karion is...?"

  • N

    The cave passed overhead breaking out into the canyon that was home to the Wolves. The gates were shouldered aside as he flung himself through creating a stir and a flurry of turned heads.

    “Brudder, What wrong ?”…“Adlanail, dat you? You all right ?”…“Howler, wash hash happened ? Ish something wrong?”

    The babble of voices died demanding a response. He gulped down air. Concerned hands were holding him, steadying him as he tried to reply to the questioning gazes of Bilbow, Chiero and Kharbeh.

    “K..Ka..Karion….needs….our help”
    “Karion?”…”Karion ? but Howler, Karion ish………”

    The thought remained unfinished as well as the sentence. He knew Kharbeh bewailed the archer’s death as much if not moreso than himself. He knew of the lengths she had gone to, to seek solace for his passing and an abode for his soul.

    “Talk…to the tree…sister…see, what it has to say……. The Lady..came..to me… I saw.”
    “Saw what brudder ?”

    And so the story of his vision tumbled out of him to an astounded audience.

    The silence that greeted his tale’s end seemed to stretch uncomfortably.

    Chiero broke it…

    “So wha’ do we do ?”

    Adlanail turned on him.

    “Do ? We wait…We gather the Wolves…We AID our brother!”
    “I meant how do we aid him”
    “Oh…. That I don’t know…that we must discuss…perhaps Ohtar or Grivel will know.
    “Shtay here. I will be back. I musht do shomething…..

    With that Kharbeh headed to the gates and faded into the darkness of the cavemouth leading to the Nars…

  • G

    The yellow-haired elf sat on a flat rock by the lake in the North Rawlins. This spot recalled memories of times long gone, and brought a slight smile to his face.

    He remembered when goblins infested these woods and he would stand upon this rock and listen for the cries of those in need. He had been fairly new to the land, and did not know many. Those who he did happen to meet, he met in the woods, usually from his post on the rock. Some came by to chat, but he did not warm well to strangers. So most would continue on their way. He watched them hunt, always keeping eyes and ears open for trouble as they circled the lake.

    He thinks back to the few who were able to break through the mental wall he put up after the loss of his brother. There was Arianna, the female ranger, who he helped to improve her skills. Big Six Mathewson, a wise ranger with a gentle style. And there was Karion. Karion Silverbow. What was it about that ranger that caused them to become friends, when so many others failed to gain his trust? Perhaps it was his dedication to his God, Corellon Larethian. Perhaps it was the fierce loyalty he showed to his friends. Whatever it was, they became fast friends and hunted around the lake together often. It was Karion who introduced Grivel to Tanin, the leader of the Wolves. It was his word that got Grivel accepted as one of them…

    He sighs as he gazes out over the glassy blue water

    Gone....all of them gone...

    Help me brother…

    He sits up with a start, his bow falling from his trembling hand. Where had that come from? His eyes try to pierce the darkness that by now had fallen around him. Karion??

    His answer is just the whisper of the wind and the rustle of leaves in the trees. Something had changed. His skin pricked and beads of sweat broke out on his upper lip. He grabbed his bow and stood suddenly.
    Striding north, his look of determination was apparent. "I must tell the others" he whispered. "Brother, I am there for you."

  • N

    Adlanail sat fitfully by the fire. Somehow the mood for a performance was not upon him this eve. The talk of the other fire sitters blurred into a droning…grating on his mind. Excusing himself to them for his melancholy mood he sloped into the wood, there hoping to find the peace for his unease.

    As was his wont he stopped at the hollowed out oak outside the gates to ask guidance comfort and protection from The Lady.
    Kneeling before the great oak he bowed his head an began his supplication.

    A small smile formed at his lips as his mind began to envisage….
    A peaceful glade dappled in green light from somewhere high in the canopy. Into the glade trotted a unicorn almost seeming to shimmer in it’s own radiance, prancing fretfully ears high as though listening to something.

    His smile widened, treasuring the far too infrequent vision .

    The unicorn skittered up to his point of view, his smile fading as his mind perceived what the unicorn was straining to hear.

    The clang of metal on metal and the muffled cries of the battle grew stronger in his mind. The unicorn tilted its head to one side and his vision flowed after its gaze zooming over a blood-splotched field converging in on one combat…

    His eyes flew open but still the vision would not recede

    Karion lurched….his leather armor pierced by one goblin arrow, then another....another...another....still more and more and more until he could hold himself up no more...the pain flashed in his eyes and the elven archer's knees buckled. And he fell on further...the earth rising to meet him as a battle pitched on around him, a great beast of a half orc screamed and flung goblins in fury. But Karion lay still, still as death. and....there, there next to him...a fang hung from the broken protector, covered in the fallen faithful's blood. The battle ended and all went quiet...a silence seemed to stretch on forever in grief for the fallen elf....Suddenly the elf's eyes shoot wide open and look straight and true like his arrows flew towards their targets. Help me brother…

    The vision left him laying there, hands clutching, buried in the earth. Gulping his breath back he looked around and lifted himself in a calm dread. Rushing northward through the gates and on ignoring the alarmed townsfolk he half stumbled half darted towards the gates leading to the Nars.
    By the time he got there he was more composed but still alacrity clawed at his soul.
    Disregarding his usual preparations he braved the dangers of the pass hustling headlong towards the Den and the sanctity of the of his fellow Wolves.

    His mind still a whirl coalesced on one thought…. The wolves will know of this , brother, wherever you are… whatever has happened…we will find a way to aid you.

    (( Thanks Karion and Stauffer for the jab to get me writing again . I’ve used your passage for the vision Stauffer, for consistency and because it was so good. Hope you don’t mind ))

  • S

    The moon shone down over the lake in the Northern Rawlins highlighting the gently rolling surface of the cool body of water. The light almost seemed to move from one wave to another, dancing smoothly across the surface of the lake in a strangely calming and soothing way.

    Slowly, near the edge of the lake's waters an elven man kneels. A soft sigh escaping his lips as his eyes watch the dancing moonlight before him. He bows his head slightly, a peaceful smile coming to his lips as he watches a calming waters.

    Vell'cam always felt at home in this spot by the Rawlins northern lake. The moon caught the large waters here just right, reminding him of his old home, reminding him of his bond to The Great Protector, and yet still keeping him in touch with his new home within the strange lands he now found himself.

    An old elven hymn comes to him and he smiles. He bows his head taking a light breathe and beginning, a hymn of guidance for those far from home. His voice deepens, rumbling gently out over the moonlit lake as he continues, putting voice to feelings as he was taught long ago. Soothing and calming his feelings and thoughts under the guidance of his faith and portraying those feelings to whoever of his brethren or friends that may be watching….a prayer as calming to others as his faith and the waters were to hi...

    The elven cleric pauses in his thoughts, but continues his hymn squinting his eyes out over the moonlit lake. An image seems to dance in, closer and closer with each rolling wave. He turns his head slightly and then blinks, his eyes widen in surprise. The image flashes from the waves up into his mind as recognition sets in.

    Karion lurched….his leather armor pierced by one goblin arrow, then another....another...another....still more and more and more until he could hold himself up no more...the pain flashed in his eyes and the elven archer's knees buckled. And he fell on further...the earth rising to meet him as a battle pitched on around him, a great beast of a half orc screamed and flung goblins in fury. But Karion lay still, still as death. and....there, there next to him...a fang hung from the broken protector, covered in the fallen faithful's blood. The battle ended and all went quiet...a silence seemed to stretch on forever in grief for the fallen elf....Suddenly the elf's eyes shoot wide open and look straight and true like his arrows flew towards their targets. Help me brother…

    Vellcam's tilted to the side, his eyes burned with the after effects of the painful image. He sat, stung for a long time. He reached out to the calmness of his faith, the comfort of the father of them all, and he knew, knew that he could help his fallen brother elf.

    Straightening, he bowed his head once more and prayed. He would be ready for whatever task he must face. He would do what he must to save one of their blood, a friend, a faithful protector or their people, an elven archer. i will be at your side soon brother, Corellon will see it so.

    ((posting here as well Karion in case anyone wants to follow. Hope you don't mind))