3. Talgris Caldason

Talgris Caldason


  • The Pain of Revelation

    OOC: Sometimes memories are things best forgotten. Sometimes the truth is something you would rather not know. Things happen in our childhood that bear too much weight for our young minds to hold. One single experience can change our entire view in life. The mind is sometimes more powerful than our will to control it. More powerful than we would believe possible.

    Gatsu sat quietly with his back against the windmill near the stream just outside of town. He took slow controlled breaths trying hard to calm himself.

    "Are you ready Gatsu?" The elf next to him asked. He scratched his chin absently.

    Gatsu looked down at his open palm. There was Pira, the usually shinning glow of her delicate wings had dimmed and waned. She looked up at him weakly. Her smooth skin had taken on a strange gray hue. She was dying.

    Ever since Gatsu had met the little pixxie his life had gotten a little bit brighter. Pira's childish excitement and limitless energy felt comforting to the man. She loved to fly about the town and speak with every inhabitant she came across. She would come back to tell Gatsu about every encounter. She was always so jovial when she spoke. Everything was a new and exhilerating experience to her. In the past few days though, Pira's energy seemed to be slowly depleating. She seemed perpetually tired. She slept for the great majority of the day and her time in town was becoming shorter and shorter.

    Gatsu was very worried about her and decided to consult a practitioner of the magic arts. An acolyte sorcerer called Syne. Syne had told him that it was very possible that the little pixxie was slowly dying. She had been bonded to a wizard it seemed. When the wizard died, Pira's link to him had been broken but she had not returned to her home as most familiars do when their masters are slain or they are released from service. She had somehow managed to remain with the wizard. The link had not been completely severed.

    "Pira is a very unusual fey." Syne told him. "It seems the wizard Gleamer somehow managed to wipe out any memory she had of who she was or where she came from. He also made the bond between them unusually strong. He must have been very skilled in the art. Even after death, Pira was not returned to her home. The link is so strong it seems, that Pira will eventually follow him in death."

    "Is there anyway to stop it?" Gatsu asked concerned.

    "Only one way." Syne said. "Someone has to perform the bonding ceremony. It has to be done by someone whose connection to Pira is stronger than her link to Gleamer. If it's not done soon she will vanish into nothingness."

    Gatsu was silent. He wished he could help her but he had no knowledge what so ever of the magic art. "Do you know anyone?" Gatsu asked. "Strong enough to break the link."

    Syne only shook his head. "That's not the way it works Gatsu. It's not about how powerful the caster is. It's how strong the link is between the fey and the caster. I could ask Elminster himself to cast this spell but if Pira is not…....emotionally attatched to him, the spell will fail."

    Gatsu's brow wrinkled. "Emotionally attached? I thought these creatures were slaves. What do her feelings have anything to do with it?"

    Syne sighed patiently. "Usually it doesn't. A wizard can simply pick out a creature and perform the bonding ceremony. That creature then becomes the wizard's familiar and is bound to obey the wizard from that point on. However, it seems that Gleamer and Pira had a much stronger bond than usual. How that is possible, I don't know, and Pira does not remember. All she knows is that she genuinely cares for Gleamer and is holding on to him so tightly....she is being dragged into the Fugue with him."

    Gatsu shook his head. "I don't know who could help her. She seems to know a few people.....I guess I could talk to them."

    Syne seemed skeptical. "Is she good friends with these people?"

    Gatsu shrugged. "I suppose. She talks with them frequently and is always excited to talk about them to me." Gatsu's eyes widened for a moment. "You're not suggesting I do it?"

    Syne smiled at the swordsman. "You've known her longer than anyone. She spends more time with you than anyone else. She is not in any way obligated to be around you but she seems to always come back. She likes you. I think you're her best bet."

    Gatsu looked pensive. "But I'm no wizard! I don't know the first thing about casting a bonding spell."

    "You don't have to be a wizard to bond with her." Syne stated. "I'm a sorcerer. I can will things to occur through my inner streangth alone. All it takes is the desire to accomplish it. I can show you how."

    "Don't give me that!" Gatsu exclaimed. "You have magic in your blood. You were born with the gift. I don't have have any magic in me. I can't do it!"

    "But you're wrong Gatsu." Syne said. "Everyone has the power within them. Even you. All you need is to know how to tap into it. I agree, to some magic does come as second nature, but that does not mean you can't summon a bit of power yourself."

    "That's enough Syne." Gatsu stated. "This is Pira's life you're playing with. I don't want you risking her life just so you can prove some kind of point."

    "Hey!" Syne said insulted. "I'm trying to save her! You're the only one that pixxie considers an actual friend! Love it or hate it, you're the only one that can save her right now! To be honest I don't think you'll be able to do it! I've seen more magic in a hair comb than I see in you but that's not the point! The point is Pira is dying and only you can help her! Either you can let me teach you how so you can at least make an attempt to restore her or you can watch her weaken in the hands of every caster you take her to until she fades away!"

    Gatsu stared at Syne in disbelief. The elf stood rigid, his eyes blazing. Gatsu's eyes dropped to the ground. He did not want to see Pira die. She had brought a lot of joy to his dreary life. He was sure however that he could not do this. He saw now though that he didn't have much of a choice. If he was going to save his new friend, he would have to try. His gaze again met Syne's.

    "Alright." Gatsu said. "Alright....show me what I have to do."

    Synes eyes brightened. He was glad Gatsu had decided to attempt the ceremony. They would not have a lot of time. It usually took months for someone to learn how to bond with a familiar. He only had a matter of days before Pira faded into nothingness. He hoped to Mystra Gatsu was a fast learner.


  • Pira flew as fast as her wings would take her into the woods. She could not believe what had just happened. What was happening? What was Gleamer really doing all this time? She heard a crash from behind her. He was closing in.

    Pira had spent the entire day mourning Gleamer's death. She wandered around the cabin aimlessly. Her thoughts random. Sometimes joyfull, sometimes not. Her life with Gleamer had been such a strange thing, filled with a mixture of love and resentment. Now, he had grown cold, lying face down on the floor, his bare feet still wrapped in the covers of his bed. Pira had never truly known him. He had never really bothered to talk to her. He told her what to do and she obeyed. She hated what he made her do, but she cared for him….....didn't she?

    At the moment of his passing, as sad as she felt, a certain weight had been lifted from her tiny shoulders. She felt the power he had over her slowly ebb away. She felt free, but at the same time she felt alone. Gleamer and her had shared a bond together. They were conected by a power she could not explain. With his death that bond had been broken. For the first time she felt truly small. She remembered the things he had made her do. She did not regret them, but she could never dream of doing them again. It was a strange contradiction.

    Her confusion had only begun. That night, as she sat in her crate, she heard a crashing sound coming from the laboratory. Pira made her way slowly and flew in throught the open door. There she saw the mephit. The fiery winged monster flew around her master's work space in desperate circles, inspecting boxes and vials and then throwing them clear across the room. He seemed covered by a constant flame. Everything he touched was singed but not burned. Pira felt a horrible wrongness coming from him. Something...bad.

    "Um...hello?" Pira said. The mephit's head snapped towards her. His eyes were bright orbs of burning hate.

    "You! Where is it?!" He demanded. "Where is the Flower wine?" The creature's voice brought her chills.

    "What are you talking about?" Pira asked. "Why are you in here?"

    "I came for the Flower wine! Where is your master?!" the creature hissed. It leaped on to Gleamer's work table, knocking down empty beakers and leaving scorch marks everywhere.

    "He's....he's dead." Pira said. "And I don't know what you're talking about." Pira was losing her temper. "I want you to leave!"

    "The wizard is dead? How?" the mephit asked from the table. It's wings were at rest on its back. It sat on all fours like a demonic feline.

    "He was sick." Pira responded. "He was trying to get better...but.."

    The mephit laughed. A terrible hissing laugh. "So the Flower Wine finally killed the fool gnome?" A forked tounge licked the monster's lips. "He lasted much longer than I thought he would." The monster said matter of factly. "Where was he getting the flower from?"

    Pira was taken back by the question. What was going on? What was this creature doing here? She remained silent.

    "The flower!" the mephit hissed. "Where was he getting it from?"

    Pira's eyes widened. She didn't want to tell him anything. Not until she knew what was going on.

    "TELL ME!" The mephit opened its wings and dove towards her.

    Pira screamed. Her hand flew for her dagger. The mephit screamed as it felt the sting of the pixxie's well placed blow just under its arm. Bloodlust blinded it. It was no longer interested in interogation. Pira was going to die. She flew, out the window and into the forest. The mephit howling close behind her. Pira dashed blindly through the thick wood. She could hear the leather wings closing in on her. It was dark, she couldn't see where she was going. She only knew she couldn't stop. She had to keep moving.

    She managed to fly into a clearing. A moment later she heard the mephit break out of the thick behind her. She was scared. This thing was fast. Something large whirled by her. She heard a wet thunk behind her and then the mephit screamed. She dared a look behind and saw the mephit sprawled on the ground, a large axe sticking out of the side of its head. She stopped. Someone stepped out into the clearing, walked towards the mephit and pulled the axe out of the creature's skull.

    "Are you alright little one?" She heard the man speak. He was large. Much larger than Gleamer and much younger too. He wore a heavy looking metal shirt and had a large sword strapped to his back and a massive shield strapped tightly to his left arm. He held the bloody axe at his side.

    For a moment Pira was speachless. "Yes...thank you."

    The man grinned. "Don't mention it.....ugly little thing isn't it?" He said staring at the mephit's corpse. "Why was it after you?"

    "I....I don't know." Pira still felt shocked and confused. She didn't know whether to smile or break down crying.

    The man shook his head. "You should go find your master. It's dangerous out here."

    Pira looked up at him. "My master's dead." She said flattly. "He was ambushed by goblins." she lied.

    "Sorry to hear that." The man said. "You still shouldn't be out here by yourself though. I can take you to town if you want. Maybe you can find your master's friends."

    "My master didn't have any friends." Pira said sadly. "He died alone."

    The man in the heavy metal shirt seemed sobered by her comment. "I'm so sorry." After a moment. "Do you have any friends in town?"

    Pira shook her head no. The man looked thoughtful for a moment. He seemed very simple to Pira. His eyes didn't race like Gleamer's eyes did. He wasn't as jittery or nervous either. He seemed calm and composed. A bit of a sad look in his eye.

    "Come with me then. I don't want to leave you out here by yourself." the man smiled.

    "Ok." Pira responded. She looked back the way she had come and at the mephit at the man's feet. She needed to get away from all of this.

    "My name's Gatsu." The man introduced himself at last. "At your service little one."

    "Hi." Pira said smiling shyly. "I'm Pira."

    Gatsu gave her a broad grin. "C'mon, I think you'll like it in town. Lots of people for you to meet there."

    Pira's eyes widened. People....lots of people. This was the first person other than Gleamer Pira had ever seen. The notion of "lots of people" seemed alien to her. She found the idea delightful. Lots of people. Maybe even one of her own kind. Pira smiled brightly for the first time in a very long time.


  • "Useless!" Gleamer threw the three empty vials with what little force his weakened state allowed. They struck the floor intact. He did not have the streangth in him to break glass. He sat on his bed, panting, his mouth was dry, his eyes burned, his skin looked shriveled and parched. With every passing day the potions he made were having less and less of an effect on him. Now, after just having gulped them down, he felt no effects at all.

    Pira hovered in a corner too afraid to speak. The gnome looked enraged and in despair. He cursed, spat out a wad of thin, sickly colored blood, cursed again. He held his head with his skeletal hands…his head throbbing.

    Pira felt awful. No matter how much pollen she brought back from the cavern, Gleamer only got worse. He had worked every day since his sickness began. All in vain. He could not find a cure, and now his time had run out. The potions that kept him physically stable no longer helped him. He was going to die, and there was nothing she could do.

    "Pira!" Gleamer called out. His voice nearly a whisper.

    "Yes sir?" Pira asked shyly approaching.

    "I need.." he swallowed hard. "I need more pollen."

    Pira frowned. Why did he insist on this pollen? It was obviously not helping him. He was adamant about it being the key to his freedom but she had never seen him well. After what seemed like an eternity, Pira finally decided to make a stand.

    "No." she said clearly. "That pollen is not working."

    Gleamer looked at her. His eyes wide and blood shot. His boney jaw dropped in disbelief. Pira noticed this but was determined to speak her mind.

    "You keep making me go out there, you keep asking for more, everytime, more and more. I'm bringing you four pouches full a night now and you've only gotten worse. The pollen won't cure you Gleamer, please try something else!"

    Gleamer's face contorted. "Damn you Pira do as I say!"

    "But it's not working!" Pira shouted. "You're dying!" Her eyes filled with tears. Her lip shook. "Can't you see it's not working?! Can't you!?" Pira froze. Gleamer's will pushed against hers. She had to obey. It was not her place to question. It was not her place to refuse. She felt him envelop her. It was a battle she had never won, not even close, but today, she felt he was too weak to push and with almost no effort, she tore clear of his push.

    Gleamer stared at her. His look was one of total confusion. He had commanded her to do his biding. She was not moving. She hovered in front of him, her jewel like tears running down her pretty cheeks.

    "Please Gleamer." Pira said. "I don't want you to die."

    Gleamer looked around the room, his gaze unfocused. He felt weak and powerless. His body had become frail and brittle. His mind reflected his physical appearance. Now the one thing that he knew for certain in life, the one thing he could control, had just torn itself from his grasp.

    The frail looking gnome lost all reason at that moment. With a weakened feral scream he lunged for Pira. She was caught completely off guard but managed to dart quickly out of his way. Gleamer hit the ground hard. Pira heard the sound of snapping bones and the gnome's howl of pain. His head hit the cabin's floor and he went still.

    "Gleamer?" Pira was still crying. She hovered above her master. She lowered herself in front of him. He was breathing hard. His breaths came long and raspy. Pira saw her reflection in his pale eyes. Those eyes. She knew then she would never forget those eyes. They were not Gleamer's eyes. They were wild, unfocused, mad. He stared off into the nothing. He looked like a starving child, alone and broken. Pira's tears ran unchecked. "Gleamer?"

    Gleamer saw only darkness. His mind had lost the power to register his surroundings. He could not feel himself. He could not see. He could not hear. He was in a void where nothing made sense....nothing but the hunger....the need for the Flower...the need for release. His vision began to clear a moment after the impact. A shifting of colors and shadows. He saw Pira. Saw her hovering only inches from his face. He saw the pain in her eyes at his current state. Saw the genuine affection in her tears. He wanted to say something. Anything. He wanted to beg forgiveness for taking her away from her home, using her to collect the very thing that had made him this way, lying to her, forcing her to kill for him, forcing her to kill him.

    Pira saw Gleamer part his dry lips. For a moment his vision cleared, he looked directly at her. He licked his lips, staining them with blood. "Pi....Piii....raaaaa." came out in a hollow, raspy whisper. Gleamer's eyes began to darken. A last breath taken...and he was gone.

    Pira moaned as her grief overpowered her. He was all she knew. She had tried so hard to help him. All for nothing. Her only friend was dead.


  • Gleamer stood in his laboratory mixing a few things together to make the base for the potion he had been working on. Next to him was the small vial filled with Miridium pollen. His brow was covered in sweat, his hands were beginning to shake slightly. The potions were wearing off. Gleamer grit his teeth and continued mixing until he had achieved the appropriate orange color and consistency. He put the vial on the table and sat down.
    It really was getting worse.

    Gleamer had already spent a small fortune making the potions he needed every morning just to be able to function during the day. Their affects used to last him the entire day and night. After a while he would feel them wear off sometime before dawn. As time progressed, their streangth was depleated half way throught the night. Now, he had not yet laid down and already he could feel the sickness creep up on him.

    He knew he couldn't afford to make more than one batch a day. He had slept horribly for weeks now but he needed his streangth during the day. He needed to be able to work. He was lucky to have found that little pixxie to do his farming for him. It was making him dangerously weak to have to confront the kobolds every day to extract the pollen from the Miridiums. She seemed to achieve the same objective efficiently enough. She had her bad nights at times, but she mostly got the job done. And of course….there were her other uses.

    Gleamer stood up and grabbed the small vial with the pollen. Miridium powder was a bright yellow powder that looked no different from other flower pollens. When mixed with the natural pixxie dust that Pira released from flapping her wings, it began to turn a light green. Pira never knew that she was saturating the pollen with her own dust when she farmed the flowers. She had no idea that it was actually affecting the pollen's very nature, turning it into something very different.

    Gleamer was satisfied with the new green hue of the pollen and dropped the small vial into the base he had mixed. The base reacted immediately to the powder. It began to bubble, it's color began to change. Gleamer put his hand around the vial testing the reaction by the warmth it eminated. He smiled as the orange base slowly became a light yellow and then a thick green.

    Once the mixture was complete, he took the vial and poured the thick liquid into several small ceramic jars and placed a small cork over each one. He left only a little bit left in the vial. The jars he placed carefully in a wooden box, closed it, and locked it.

    He looked over at his hour glass. It was almost time. He had set up the hour glass inside a rotaing ring that would turn the hourglass over as soon as all the sand hit the bottom by way of a counter weight. He had connected the ring to a counter that would keep a record of how many times the ring rotated. It was crude and a bit imprecise but it served his purposes.

    While he waited he took what remained of the concoction and placed it over the fire. After a few moments he removed it and drank it down. He heard the flapping of leathery wings at his window. He turned to see the figure of a demonic looking little creature perched above him. Its eyes burned with hatred, its claws dug deep into the cabinet where he stood. The smell of charred wood filled the room. Without a word Gleamer extended out his hand expectingly. The mephit threw a slightly singed leather bag at him that struck his hand with a light metalic sound. Gleamer opened the bag, inspected its contents and then placed it beside him.

    "It's over there." Gleamer said pointing at the black wooden box containing the small ceramic jars.

    The mephit wasted no time. It flew over to the box, aquired it, and flew swiftly away. Gleamer sat back down in his chair and began to leisurely count the gold the creature had given him. Each coin seemed to gleam perfectly in the firelight. He smiled as the mixture began taking affect in his bloodstream. He felt light headed, dreamy, and content. How could he live without this feeling? How could he be expected to stop? It was so beautiful, so perfect. Gleamer's pupils widened, his gaze went to the fire and locked there, a strangle smile spread on his lips as he felt the world around him shift and change.

    The fire mephit flew back to it's master's home. His master was right. Once someone tasted the Pixxie Flower, they were forever caught in its warm embrace. The gnome would serve his master well, until the day the Flower consumed his mind completely.


  • Gleamer took the mixture of herbs he had made and placed it in front of Pira. She slowly took some of the mashed herbs and rubbed them on her fresh wounds. The herbs stung a little at first but then she felt a nice cool sensation as the wound began to numb. After she had patched up each cut she took the carefully cut strips of clean cloth Gleamer had given her and wrapped them. She looked up at her master with a shy smile on her lips.

    Gleamer glanced back, already taking the little bag of pollen and dumping its contents into a slightly larger glass container. He looked at it through the glass, inspecting it carefully. He looked at Pira and returned her smile. Pira's shy smile turned into a giggle of joy. Gleamer was happy.

    "You did a good job." Gleamer said. You should get some rest. I'll need you to go back tommorow."

    Pira nodded, remembered that with her size he really couldn't see the gesture and responded instead. "Okay Gleamer."

    Pira lay silently in her bed. The gnome had emptied out a large crate for her and had even installed various layers of wood, one over the other, giving her a virtual palace of 5 stories. With time and a lot of nagging, he had finally had cut a few small windows into the crate. The crate sat in Gleamer's room. She stared out her little window. The one that looked out to the cabin's window and out into the forest. She heard the gnome cough violently. The potions were wearing off.

    Pira had been forced to flee from the kobolds yet again after returning for the pollen. The kobolds did not seem to understand she was after the pollen and were guarding other structures of the camp. She had worked vigourously to retrieve the needed powder from the Miridiums. It was not until she tried to get past the sentries on her way out that she was spotted.

    Once again she was in the air. The creatures this time however were ready for her. They fired sling stones at her as she fled. She was a very small, very fast target, but the sheer number of volleys made Pira have to duck and dodge through the tree branches. She didn't even notice she had cut herself on the sharp edges of the branches until she was clear of the kobold's line of sight.

    This was what her life had become. This was her routine. She did not remember anything other than this though. She had nothing to compare it with. She didn't even remember ever knowing one of her own kind. Even though she seemed to have nothing in this world other than Gleamer, she knew there was more to her existence than this.

    She felt her thoughts conflicting. She cared for Gleamer. She didn't really know why…but she wanted to take care of him. She wanted to see him get better. But he wasn't. He was getting worse. Every night he cough. Every morning he would wake up with blood on his lips and on his pillow. Every day he looked worse.

    Pira stared at her small glowing hands. Last night was not the first time she had struck out with violence like that. It seemed second nature to her. She knew exactly when to strike and where to cause the most damage. She struck with a killer's efficiency. She wasn't a killer though, was she? She couldn't remember. For all she knew she was a terrible, mean little pixxie that killed just for fun. She didn't feel she was though.
    Pira turned in the little bed, terribly confused. Sleep did not come easily that night. It never did.

    Pira woke up the next morning and went about her daily chores. She checked Gleamer's traps outside the cabin. His dedication to his work had not given him much time to go out and buy supplies. He had placed an assortment of traps outside the cabin for unsuspecting creatures to give him an easy meal. This was the part of her responsibilities she deplored. She felt completely at home in the forest. She felt the very essence of every living thing out here flow through her.

    It broke her heart to come out here, find the creatures caught by Gleamer's traps, and finish the job. She really was a killer. It came easy for her to attack creatures like kobolds and goblins, but when it came to nature's animals........it was never easy.

    She heard a cry and made her way carefully towards the sound. When she reached the source, she saw a badger, scared and wounded, caught in a snare trap. The creature yelped and bit at the wire of the snare. Blood flowed freely from the wound in its paw. It saw her. She could feel that it was not afraid. It looked at her with pleading eyes, scratching and biting at the snare. Pira flew slowly down towards it.

    The badger showed no signs of violence. However scared it might of been by its predicament, it was not alarmed by her presence. Pira looked deep into his eyes. Those large, black, fearful eyes. She slowly unsheathed her dirk and held it tightly in her grip. The badger did not seem affected by her actions. It continued to call out and bite at the snare. Pira felt her eyes well.

    She put the edge of the dirk on the wire that held him, fully intending to cut it and let the animal loose. Something stirred in her mind. The intense desire to help and protect her master. She felt her mind strain. She felt herself become light headed. She was torn and in pain. She held the dirk to the snare, wanting desperately to cut through it. Gleamer needed this. It had to be done.

    "No!" she cried out, trying to clear her mind. Her will seemed not her own. The desire to serve the gnome was overwhelming. It filled her. It was overbearing.

    Now the badger seemed a bit alarmed. It pulled away from her, hurting itself with the snare. Pira eyes widened. The pain of her resistance becoming too much to bear, she gave in. Lunging forward she inserted the small sliver of steel deep into the badger's eye, using her diminutive size to literally crawl into the soft tissue and slash at the creatures brain.

    With a startled death cry the badger fell, its head striking a rock in a soft thud, its tounge rolling out of its open mouth. The impact threw Pira out of his eye socket, covered in blood. She looked at the dead badger in front of her with horror in her eyes. It lay there, lifeless. Pira felt powerless and scared. She fell to her tiny knees. Her vision becoming a liquid blur as tears flooded from her eyes. He hands came up to her ears as her forehead touched the ground.

    "What am I?" she wept. The terror of her actions becoming a suit of metal armor around her. She had felt her will, her identity, merge with that of her master. A will much more powerful than her own. She realized she was a slave. She had no will of her own. She would soon rise and inform Gleamer of her kill so that he could come out and retrieve it. She had no say in the matter. She knew she would do it. It was her duty to her master. She did not feel she had enough tears to convey her misery.


  • The cavern was foul and dark. The kobolds walked around their tents and campfires, making that horrible noise they make when they speak. Pira had managed to get past the entrance guard easily enough. The small lizard like creatures were much too preocupied with whatever conversation they were participating in to pay much attention to her. She slipped by them quietly and made her way to where she knew the Miridium flowers to be.

    The little creatures seemed to care for the flowers. They were always very healthy and there was always at least two of them somewhere in their vicinity at any time. Even to these diminutive creatures, Pira was little more than a glowing bug. She would need to be careful.

    She slowly made her way to one of the Miridiums. She knew she had to be quick since the Milinium tended to close its petals when it felt any contact made with it. The outer leaves were too thick for her to cut through if the flower closed and she did not want to get caught inside. Taking a deep little breath she dove into one of the flowers and began collecting the pollen. Instantly the flower began to close. Pira moved away with only a portion of what she would need. Normally she could get the pollen she needed after about three tries. Tonight however Gleamer had asked for double the amount. She had to work fast before she was noticed.

    Pira sat on a small rock near the Miridiums, exhausted. She had already gone through six attempts at the flowers. She only needed one more to get the pollen she needed. All the darting to and from however had tired her and she needed some time to catch her breath. It was then that she noticed one of the kobolds walking straight at her. It had spotted her and seemed inclined to make a stain on the ground.

    Pira reacted instinctually. She flew right at the kobold with no thought of her own safety. She unsheathed the small serated dirk she used to cut the pollen from the flowers and with and imperceivably quick movement, put the tiny little thing into the kobold's thick, scaly neck.

    Black/red ichor spurted from the seemingly meaningless cut. It soaked Pira as she pulled the blade out. The kobold's chubby claws went right for the wound as it tried to keep its life from flowing out from the wound. Pira flew, no longer worried about stealth she went for the cavern entrance. The kobold screamed. Others came, they saw her pass.

    The kobold's first reaction was an interesting one. They looked at Pira fly by and began scanning the area. It seemed they were hard pressed to believe she was here alone. Their hesitation gave her enough time to clear the threshold of the cave. He escape however was far from over. Knowing she would return to her master the creatures howled and gave chase.

    Pira flew as fast as her small wings could take her. Her speed came as a great asset and with little time she had lost the creatures. She sat in a high branch panting for air. In horror she remebered the pollen in her bag. Surely enough the thick ichor had soaked through the thin leather pouch and ruined her night's work. Gleamer was going to be furious.

    It was too late for her to go back. She had already agitated the nest. She had no choice but to go home empty handed. With a heavy and fearful heart, Pira made her way back to Gleamer's cabin. Her arrival was not a joyous event. Gleamer became terribly enraged when he realized the pixxie had come back with a ruined bag of pollen. He did not seem at all worried that she was covered from wings to toes in kobold blood.

    "I need that pollen Pira!" He screamed. "Do you want me to die? Is that it? Do you want to see me die from this malady?!"

    "Of course not Gleamer!" Pira replied. Tears flowed down her cheeks despite herself. She was worried for him. She didn't want to see him die. It was her responsibility to get the pollen for him. She knew she had failed him. "I sorry. I don't know how he saw me."

    "Why did you have to go making such a mess of yourself?" Gleamer asked. "You completely ruined this batch. What am I supposed to do with this?" He threw the miniture bag at her, missing completely but making his point.

    "Go back out there and don't come back unless you have a clean batch of pollen! Remember I need twice the amount today!" Gleamer stormed off and left Pira alone to complete her task. She stared at her naked feet. She picked up the pouch from where it had landed and went to wash it. This was her responsibility. She could not fail him again. No matter what the risk was to her.


  • Pira

    OOC: This story is not really about Gatsu but about his new companion Pira. I wanted to add it because to me she is kind of like a second character, though she travels in Gatsu's bag most of the time, she likes to run off and get into all kinds of trouble. She's a lot friendlier and more easy going than Gatsu is and she loves meeting new people. This is her tale.

    The frail gnome lay in his bed, staring up at the packed straw and timber that made up his roof. It was getting worse. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were dry and partched. His skin had gone from a healthy oak brown to a sickly olive green. His dark black hair was a tangled mess that covered his eyes. His once brilliant green eyes were a dull, pale grey. A fit of coughing struck him. His chest burned, his stomach heaved, his muscles tightened. The fit passed. His glazed eyes stared sadly at the blood stained pillow. With a grimmace of pain, he managed to sit up.

    "Pira!" he called out. His voice making a sound like falling stones. "Pira!" he called again.

    "Coming Gleamer!" He heard from the hall. In a moment a small pixxie glided gracefully into his room. At a glance she looked like a glowing green insect. It was with further inspection that one could notice the distinct human characteristics. No bigger than a human hand was the shape of a young woman. Long, flowing green hair. Beautiful, deep blue eyes and a pale green skin tone that complimented a well shaped form that a human woman would need to struggle for years to achieve. Her small pointed ears and almond shaped eyes however betrayed her fey nature. She was a small beauty. A fact that excaped her completely.

    "Bring me my wand." Gleamer said in broken words. He pointed feebly at the table only a few steps away from his bed.

    Pira flew quickly and lifted the increadibly heavy object. To anyone else a wand was a very light and fragile thing no bigger than a thin stick. It was nearly twice Pira's height though and to her, was almost too heavy to carry. She faithfully flew as quickly as she could. Her little muscles straining. She took the wand and lay it carefully in Gleamer's hand.

    Without a word of thanks Gleamer activated the device. A minor object of magical streangth he had designed at the begining of his illness. It was made for the sole purpose of moving things around. With a flick of his bony wrist, Gleamer began re-arranging the scattered mess around his room. Despite his weakened state, Gleamer could not stand to see his home made a pig sty. Even by himself. After a few books and scrolls were put back in their place, he used the wand to hover over a small box containing three viles. He drank each one consecutively.

    Pira watched as the color returned to Gleamer's lips and skin. His eyes brightened. His muscles pulled away from his bones, growing and stretching. The oak brown skin tone replaced the olive green. Gleamer stretched and looked at Pira with a cold smile on his lips. "Are you ready?" He asked.

    Pira frowned. "Of course I'm ready. I always am."

    "Good." Gleamer said and walked outside his room. "I'm going to need for you to bring me twice as much as usual tonight. The illness is getting worse. I need more."

    Pira was not surprised by the request. Gleamer had begun to get desperate. Nothing he did seemed to work on curing his malady. His very life now revolved around it. Every moment given to him by the potions he brewed was used to make more potions and to work on a cure for an affliction that had gotten progressively worse throughout the year.

    "Gleamer please." Pira pleaded. "You must see a healer. They can help you, they can…"

    Gleamer chuckled coldly. "You think I haven't done that already Pira? That was the first thing I did. They said I was cursed......they can't help me."

    Pira frowned and without another word hovered away to her task. For months now Pira had been in charge of bringing Gleamer the Miridium pollen he needed for his cure. It had helped him to not lose focus over the months of strain. It kept his mind sharp so that he could continue his research on a cure for this disease. The only problem was that the only Miridiums in the area grew in a small cavern that was inhabited by a kobold tribe. She had learned the virtues of patience and stealth. It was an ardious task to retrieve the pollen without attracting attention to herself. However tedious, this was not her most hated task. There was one more thing that Gleamer requested she do. Something she had learned to despise, but had become very proficient in doing.

    Pira took her small leather purse and tied it around her waist. It used to be Gleamer's. He had shrunk it for her so she could collect the pollen. She also took her small serated dirk and strapped it to the purse's leather band. Another one of Gleamer's gifts. With this she nimbly flew out of the wizard's home and made her way to the cavern that was just a little under a mile away.

    As she progressed towards the cave, she felt the familiar pull to return to her master. The farther she got from him the more prominent the urge became. She did not know what spell Gleamer had cast on her when they had met but she only knew two things for certain. She could not remember anything before having woken up that day in his laboratory nor could she ever bring herself to go beyond a certain distance without feeling a desperate need to return to him. He did not treat her badly......she guessed.....he could be a little more thankful though for everything she did for him. It seems Gleamer had been searching for someone or something to help him that day. It seems that she was what that someone or something turned out to be.

    Like always, Pira ignored the pull. Knowing that it would not become unbearable unless she went past the one mile perimeter. Within a few minutes she had reached the edge of the forest just outside the mouth of the cave. She saw the first two kobold sentries. Slowly taking out her serated dirk, she willed the natural glow of her wings to fade and the fairie dust that she released to dim. With practiced skill she quietly floated towards the cavern enterance.


  • So much death…...

    Gatsu's vision was blurred by the blood in his eyes. He saw his sword lying only a few feet away. It felt unreachable. He crawled, desperatly reaching for its familiar hilt. He could hear the sound of heavy boots breaking the grass below them. He was closing in. Gatsu coughed, his lungs were on fire, his lips stained with his own blood. Again he reached. Still too far. The blade glowed in the morning sun. It glowed a vibrant red from the blood that dressed it. He caught a reflection on the unstained hilt. He was behind him. His sword, hovering over his back. Gatsu was almost there, he reached....

    "They killed your father?" Shadimar asked as they made their way cautiously into the Nar's Pass.

    "Yes." Gatsu said. His eyes trying to catch any sign that the thieves of the Pass were anywhere in sight.

    "And your teacher....Gran." Shadimar stated. "It is no wonder you hate them so."

    Gatsu was silent for a moment. "It's not only that." He said. "It's more than a vendetta now."

    "How so?" Shadimar asked. The young barbarian was brash and a little foolhardy but he seemed to have good intentions. This day however, he had wandered a bit farther into the Pass than he felt confortable with. They were very deep in enemy territory. Gatsu was usually not this reckless. He must be getting overconfident.

    "I've seen them kill many others since I came here to Norwick." Gatsu replied. "They kill without question or remorse. They take few prisoners and those they do take usually do not live long." Gatsu paused. "What happened to me has happened to many others. I want to stop them from leaving any more orphans to bury their parents in the middle of the Pass. There is too much death in this realm."

    "So you will stop them from killing by killing them?" Shadimar asked. "I thought you knew better."

    Gatsu looked back at Shadimar. "Do you have a better suggestion?"

    "Diplomacy."

    "Bah!" Gatsu spat. "I'm sure they've tried that! Besides, they are not a part of Narfell, they are invading it. This is how you deal with invaders." Gatsu raised his sword to exclamate his point. Little did he know that that little gesture was what had led to him being sprawled on the ground bleeding from several fatal wounds. They made their way carefully until they reached the intersection that led to the town of Jiyyd.

    A bandit had seen the light reflected off of Gatsu's sword when he raised it in the air, unknowingly pinpointing their position. Within a matter of minutes, an ambush was set at the intersection. Gatsu and Shadimar walked right into it.

    The attack was swift and well timed. Four of the bandit's rouges darted from out of their cover, quickly surrounding the two unexpecting hunters. Steel struck steel in a fury as Gatsu and Shadimar went back to back, barely holding off the initial attack. Behind the rouges came another four soilders, their herald, Gatsu saw was one of their faithfuls, fully armed and armored.

    Two against nine. In their travels Gatsu and Shadimar had faced worse but since that night in Peltarch, a faithful had never been involved. Fear crept into Gatsu's heart as he remembered how well trained and skilled these men were. He realized too late the folly of his decision to come out this far into their lands. There was no time for thought though. They had agitated a wasp's nest. It was time to kill or be killed.

    Shadimar lunged and dodged. His sword cutting though the abdomen of his first attacker. The other rouge took the opening and plunged her dagger into his back below the shoulder blade. Shadimar howled in pain, turned, and sank his blade into the woman's neck, leaving it hanging by a few tendons.

    Gatsu knew they needed to cut down the first wave before the faithful arrived. His heart pumped wildly. The rouges swung with their sharpened daggers, stiking his chainmail. Gatsu swung his sword in a wide arc, cleaving through one woman straight through her torso and embedding the sword in the chest of the other. They both fell with hardly a sound. The soilders behind him struck out wildly. One blow glanced Gatsu's armor. The other dug deep into his shoulder drawing blood. Gatsu grunted and swung. The first bandit ducked under the blow. The other was not as fortunate and found himself missing his left arm. The man screamed and fell to the ground holding the wound. The first bandit did not relent. He swung again, this time puncturing Gatsu's left leg.

    Gatsu's vision began to blur as small yellow sparks appeared before him. Biting back the pain he came down hard cutting into the bandit's chest. The blade came out the man's back as he screamed in agony, and then, went limp, sliding heavily off the large sword. Gatsu turned to see Shadimar holding off one last attacker, his armor stained in blood. The faithful was amongst them.

    Gatsu roared and charged. His powerful swing was easily deflected by the bandit's shield. The faithful plunged his sword into Gatsu's side. Gatsu felt conciousness begin to slip from him. With a desperate lunge, Gatsu struck straight forward. The faithful went to block the blow but was slow by only a quarter second. Gatsu's blade found the man's stomach. The faithful shouted and brought his sword across Gatu's head. Luckily, the pain had shocked the man enough so his aim was a bit off and he managed to hit Gatsu with the side of the blade instead of the edge.

    The pain however was excrusiating. Gatsu fell to the ground, his world going black. The cry of a hawk brought him back from the edge. The cry was not one of victory however. The creature Gatsu knew as Iria had let out its final death cry. Shadimar was in trouble. He heard steel meet steel only a few feet behind him. He looked around frantically for his weapon. He found it lying only a few feet away. His body had gained the weight of a mountain. With what little power he could muster he began to crawl towards Caska. A terrible cry of pain echoed through the Pass. One of them had fallen. In his semi-concious state Gatsu could not differenciate who it had been. Knowing he could not take the chance, Gatsu kept crawling for his weapon. The victor of the battle made his way slowly towards him.

    Gatsu felt desperation in his veins. The words of Femto echoed in his mind. There were no gods other than the ones we make for ourselves. It is our will that manifests them and the power they weild over us. We are the slaves of our own fates because that is the choice we make. So what was Gatsu's fate? He did not believe in these gods. He did however believe in Femto, he believed in a demon who promised nothing but despair and misery. Gatsu's blood went cold. Was the path had chosen in life going to be the undoing of his existence after death? Had he really chosen this path himself? Hadn't it been his father's wish that he live with the name of a man Gatsu never really knew ever existed? Wasn't this all his fathers doing? Wasn't it his fault for leaving him!?

    Gatsu was now only inches from his sword. The image of the man behind him became clear on the shining metal of his sword. The bandit's blade came down swiftly, severing Gatsu's spine. As he had seen in so many others, the light behind his eyes slowly dimmed and died. Gatsu's head struck the ground, his outstretched hand landing clumsily on Caska's hilt.

    Maybe Shadimar was right. His life seemed an obvious hypocricy at this point. What other fate could he possibly have expected? It was as they say. Live by the sword...............

    OOC: Well, I thought this a good place to close on Chapter 2 of Gatsu's story. Death of course should always be considered a vital turning point in any character's life. Not that any of us has the luxury of a second chance at life. I can only hope that if we did, we would not squander it away. It saddens me to know how little we appreciate the one that is given to us. More to come soon. Thanx again for taking the time.


  • The day was cold and damp. The ground held a certain stench that seemed signature to this town. Gatsu sat outside the Boarshead, wanting to be in the sun but finding nothing but a grey, cloud covered sky. Gatsu drank deeply. He watched as the inhabitants of Norwick went on about their buisness. Fargo was having a good day today it seemed. Buying and selling his wares, he seemed perfectly happy. Gatsu's mood however, was as grey as the sky.

    He hardly remembered how long he had been in this town. Time seemed to flow with such a steady regularity that things seemed to jumble and mix with each other like a pattern of swirling insects. He was lost in time now, which was for the better. He didn't want to know anymore. Everything seemed to be losing its luster. He realized now how the shedding of so much blood had effected him. He had become as cold as the rain. Taking the life of others no longer bothered him. He had already forgotten the faces of the men and women who he had left to feed the predators of Nar's Pass. He no longer noticed the anguish and fear in their faces. He no longer bothered to watch the light fade out of their eyes. They were an obstacle, no more.

    Gatsu rested his head against the wall of the Boarshead and looked up at the shifting stormclouds as they prepared their daily dose of showers. What was he becoming? What was he doing? The rage he felt for the bandits was still present and as strong as ever…..but his pain for his father's loss....the loss of his mentor.....they were gone. He had released them. He had moved on. But then why was he angry? Why did he revenge so?

    Gatsu's mind began to wander......things were not going well as of late. The girl Cyna. He had led her and her friend Stella through the Rawlinswood. They were both a little unexperienced in patroling the woods but they showed great potential. Cyna seemed hungry for both the blood of the goblins and......for companionship. It seems she had found a mark for the later. Dando Chedwa.

    Gatsu had always found the bard to be carefree and giving. He seemed very young at heart. Something had happened with Cyna though. It seemed a declaration of love made by two people too young to understand what they were doing. A declaration gone horribly wrong. Now it seemed that there is a chance that Cyna had taken her own life and Dando did not yet know......or knew, but did not dare admit it to himself. The way things were going, Dando might decide to follow in the foolish girl's footsteps.

    "So much death." Gatsu muttered to himself. "This place must be cursed."

    He looked around. Small details that seemed to go unnoticed. Blood stains on the armors of those who would not bother removing them while in town. The massive amounts of weapons and armors in Fargo's inventory. The cold uncaring stares of the militia as they patrolled the streets. It was a little suspicious to him how they made their rounds around that well in the middle of town. Gatsu had learned that there was some very powerful magic in the water. So strong that it effected any kind of casting performed in town. Atol seems to want this town very badly. That well..........

    Then there were the elves. So many elves. Gatsu had been to their camp in the Rawlinswood. They seemed very cold and dismissive. A gesture Gatsu found very hypocritical seeing that most of their population had decided to inhabit Norwick. Gatsu let out a tired sigh. He hated when he let his thoughts get the best of him. A shadow covered his face. Gatsu looked up to find Shadimar looking at him with a small smirk on his face. Iria sat on his shoulder, seemingly alo scrutinizing him.

    "I hope you're done brooding." Shadimar said. "I need to feed Iria."

    Gatsu had found it strange how the druid seemed to connect his own bloodlust with feeding his pet hawk human flesh. It made his skin crawl at times. These druids seemed so detatched from life, their heart beating at its own rythm. They follow their own rules, lived their own lives, outside of the oppresion of society. A heriachal oppression that most people found confort in. Gatsu felt he could understand their way of thinking. Having been bred mostly in the wild, even the chaotic atmosphere of this town was not enough. The walls seemed to close in on him. He needed freedom from it. He needed to be away from its confinement.

    "Yes." Gatsu said rising. "I'm done."

    "Good." Shadimar responed. Without another word the druid began walking towards the Northgate. Gatsu put his thoughts at rest and reveled in the release he knew he could only find in the heart of a murderous rage. He felt like an animal. A savage yet caged animal. What would become of him in this town of war and bloodshed,sadness and turmoil, death and rebirth?


  • The bandits were used to groups traveling through their lands from Norwick to Peltarch and back again. It was by sheer numbers that they managed to take these groups and loot their fallen corpses. Today however, they met a resistance that was far beyond them. Together they stood, Fade and Aaramil, stoic sentries firing volley after volley into the party of murderous theives that tried desperately to reach them. Gatsu stood his ground, launching his axes at any who might get past the death dealing druids. The bandits seemed undisturbed by the fallen bodies of their comrades. They ran over them, determined to kill this group of intruders. Shadimar stood by Gatsu, silently striking out at them with his bow.

    The half-orc Vrugar was quick to attack. Charging forward with the power of a minoutar he cut through their ranks. The night's darkness was against them. The bandits knew these lands well and were able to sneak up silently behind the group's line of defense. As Fade and Aaramil concentrated their fire towards those that came from the north, and Vrugar sliced down those that came from the west, Gatsu and Shadimar turned and began making short work of the attackers coming from the south.

    Gatsu was astounded at how many of the bandits were attacking. It seemed they were up against a large raiding party. As Gatsu's blade found the heart of a female and her death scream filled his ears, Another figure stepped from out of the shadows. This one seemed distinctively different from the rest. He wore chainmail instead of leather and carried a large sturdy shield. He seemed confident in his ability as he walked up to Gatsu, hatred in his eye. Gatsu screamed and lunged. The bandit blocked him easily and brought his own sword down, smashing hard into Gatsu's chain, cutting through metal into Gatsu's flesh. With a groan Gatus swung again, his sword bouncing off the man's shield. The bandit pushed forward, aiming for Gatsu's head. Gatsu caught the sword with his own. They stood locked for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, their teeth grinding, their brows covered in sweat.

    Shadimar brought his scimitar across the bandit's arm finding a weak spot in the armor and cutting flesh. The bandit pulled back and swung, slashing Shadimar's bicep. Gatsu's blade bounced off his shield once more. This man was skilled, Gatsu's eyes widened as he realized he was fighting the leader of the raiding party. The man barked out orders as they faught. Gatsu's face became a feral mask of hatred. Calling every ounce of streangth in his body he planted his feet and swung with a primal scream. His strike was clumsy but the power behind it was significant. The bandit put up his shield to deflect the blow. Seeing his opening, Shadimar slashed the man behind his knee. The pain of the blow set the man off balance for only an instant, but in that instant the shield dropped just enough for Gatsu's sword to find the man's shoulder, ribs, heart, and spinal column.

    The bandit fell to the ground with a wet thud. Gatsu's breath came heavily. The wound in his chest ached terribly. He looked down and saw his chain shirt hanging by only a few links now. It had really gone through hell these last few months. It was time for a change.

    A bandit faithful seemed to be the official title for the man he and Shadimar had taken down. It was Gatsu's first encounter with a higher ranking officer in this army of rebels. Gatsu grinned despite his injuries. Seeing his friend wounded, Shadimar quickly began calling in the power of the forest to allow him to heal Gatsu.

    Gatsu was overwhelmed by the sheer size of Peltarch. As a merchant's son he had seen many such cities throughout the realms but never from the inside. His caravan usually found a place outside the city walls to sell their wares and being that such cities were such a dangerous place for a young boy to be wandering about, his father never let him explore. His father…......his nameless father.

    The city streets seemed deserted. Gatsu realized that this small group he traveled with had come at a very late hour. The guards at the gate seemed to know Vrugar and they were not given too much trouble when they tried to enter the city gates. Once inside, Fade requested that any buisness be done by noon of the next day so that they could all return through the Pass in the safety of their own numbers. Gatsu and Shadimar agreed and decided to find an Inn to spend the night. Fade had recomended the Whorehouse........a practical name it seemed. A name like that would attract a lot of clientel in a big city like this. Gatsu couldn't help but laugh.

    Shadimar seemed reluctant and unconfortable having to spend the night within the city but seeing how there was no place for him to hide from the bandits outside, he went directly to his room and tried to hurry things along by going right to sleep.

    Gatsu ordered what he believed to be a ridiculously overpriced ale and sat in a corner. This place seemed much larger than the Boarshead. Larger, shadier, and no where near as friendly as the common room of his home. The people spoke in hushed tones. Their eyes darted about nervously. Gatsu found himself to be very unconfortable in this place. Taking the ale to his lips he drank it down in one gulp and went up to his room.

    Despite his feeling of being compleatly out of place, Gatsu enjoyed his stay at Peltarch. Shadimar and he were able to find the general market area where after a long session of open mouthed gawking, Shadimar was able to convince Gatsu to hurry up and make whatever purchases he needed before they were left behind. With a heavy heart Gatsu spoke to the Blacksmith and managed to get a less than decent price for his chain shirt. Gatsu was a merchant's son, but a horrible merchant himself. It had plagued him his whole life how people never really seemed to warm up to him. They would greet him and indulge in small talk but in a moment's notice he was quickly forgotten. He hated the idea of taking up the family buisness because of this. It seemed fate however made sure he lost this option.

    His spirits were soon lifted though once he purchased a brand new chainmail armor and a shiny new tower shield. He had seen many in Norwick carry around such things. He never thought he would actually own one. With a smile on his face Gatsu made his way back to the south gate with Shadimar to meet back up with Fade, Vrugar, and Aaramil.


  • The time had come. The time had finally come. Gatsu stood at the north gate of Norwick, wearing his faithful chain shirt and holding on to Caska with a death grip. Shadimar, the druid of the Rawlinswood padded silently up to him, a concerned look on his face.

    "You ready?" the elf asked. The hungry call of a hawk could be heard from above, a winged shadow lazily circled their feet.

    Gatsu had waited very long for this. For the day he would be able to gain the confidence to go through these gates and face the bandits of the Nars Pass. A lot of time had passed since the day Gatsu had walked into this town through this very gate, carrying the body of his friend Gran and trying not to bleed to death from a gaping wound at his side. Since that day he had passed by this gate several times, trying to summon up the nerve to take up arms and go outside. Today was that day. He already knew he could trust the druid Shadimar, having traveled with him many times before. He only hoped he could keep his cool out there. The rage that boiled inside him seemed boundless.

    "I'm ready." Gatsu said taking a deep breath. With that, they stepped outside of Norwick towards the Nar's pass.

    They had not gone far before they heard the call of the hawk above them. "Iria has spotted something." Shadimar said. "We must be wary."

    Gatsu nodded, looking around he found a high perch they could use for a better perspective of the pass. Gatsu's eyes narrowed as he spotted a small band walking leisurely towards the city proper. There were four of them. Two men and two women, all dressed in the bandit's blue and orange. Gatsu looked at Shadimar and ran his thumb across his neck from one ear to the other as he sheathed Caska and placed a pile of throwing axes before him. Shadimar nodded, pulled a single arrow from his quiver, drew back and let fly. The arrow sank deep in one of the woman's legs. She let out a cry of pain and fell as her legs lost the streanght to support her. The others turned and spotted their assailants on the hillside just above them. With shouts of hatred and promised revenge they came. Shadimar continued to fire. His arrows sinking in their thick leather armors but not finding the soft flesh beneath.

    Gatsu waited. His time in the Rawlinswood had taught him much about patience. Once they were within his range, he picked up an axe and threw it with all his might. The axe flew, making the wind howl behind it. One of the men flew back from the impact. The axe sticking out of his chest, covered in blood. The other woman screamed as one of Shadimar's arrows sunk into her right breast. The last remaining bandit stopped cold. He looked about at his fallen companions and then back up at the two men on the hill. With obvious disgust, the bandit dropped his sword and shield, and raised his hands to show they were empty. Again the hawk cried.

    Shadimar looked at Gatsu. No words needed to be spoken. They had been spotted by another band, there were more coming and they were very close. Gatsu took one look at the bandit at the bottom of the hill and with one swift movement threw an axe deep into his skull.

    The theives of the Nars Pass closed in quickly. These people did not take kindly to intruders in their lands. Eight well armed and armored bandits howled as they closed the gap. Gatsu stood with Caska ready, Shadimar unsheated his scimitar. Gatsu remembered this scene all too well. He took a moment to glance over at Shadimar who stood quiet, composed, and ready. A shadow streaked past them as the hawk dove for one of the bandits, claws extended. The attack caught the man by surprise. He screamed as the bird's talons tore into his face, seeking the soft globes of his eyes.

    With a scream of uncontained fury Gatsu charged with Shadimar closely behind him. With one swift stroke he came down hard on the first bandit who's blood sprayed as he let out a piercing death cry. Two bandits came in from each side. Gatsu had gotten quicker since the last time he had found himself in this predicament. He side stepped, centering his weight, he spun and cleaved the second man's head off as he moved to strike.

    Shadimar's expression of calm never changed. He took a quick sidestep as he met his first attacker and cut him under the armpit. The man fell holding the fatal wound as his blood literally gushed out of him. The second bandit's attack bounced off the thick scales of Shadimar's armor and with deadly speed, the druid brought up his sword and sliced across the man's jugular.

    Gatsu's third attacker charged forward trying to impale the big man on his sword. The blade slid across Gatsu's chain shirt, giving the barbarian enough time to redirect his blow. With a quick turn, Gatsu put all his weight on his right leg and sliced with a downward arc that drove the blade halfway through the man's chest.

    The last two bandits stood in horror. In moments their numbers had been decimated. Like the bandit before them they lowered their weapons and raised their empty hands.

    "Alright now." One of the bandits spoke. "We surrender. I'd rather go to jail then to be killed out here today. We won't give you any trouble."

    Gatsu looked at Shadimar who shrugged uncaringly and began to clean his blade. Iria came to rest on his shoulder, an eye dangling gruesomly from its beack. Gatsu looked back at his prisoners who stood motionless, fear evident in their eyes. All they wanted was to stay alive. It was their right was it not? It was as much their right as it was his father's and his friend's.

    "I know you won't." Gatsu said and swung. The blade cut straight through two unsuspecting necks, spraying the Nar's Pass with the color of thick red crimson.

    The sun was slowly disapearing behing the western horizon as Shadimar and Gatsu walked back through the gates at Norwick. After a quick inspection from the militia who regarded their blood soaked bodies with mild suspicion, they were allowed back into town. Gatsu had hoped for rain that day. Hoped the rain would wash away what he knew he had become. But no rain came.

    That night, Gatsu stared intently into his ale. Shadimar had returned to the forest with his hawk, never truly confortable within the walls of Norwick. Gatsu's mind saw the light in the bandit's eyes fade and die. He had taken many lives this day. It was different than hunting goblins. Goblins were vile, retched little parasites. They were savage and ruthless and murderous by nature. Those that found their resting place at the end of Gatsu's blade this day however were all human. His own kind. He could make up any excuse to justify it but when it came down to it, he was no better than they were. He was a savage, a thief, and a murderer.

    Gatsu put his head back and stared at the roof of the Boarshead. This was the path he had chosen for himself since the day the bandits of Nar's Pass took his father from him. He had vowed revenge and he would have it. He would not stop until they were all dead. Even if he had to pay for it with his soul.

    What did it really matter though. There were no gods. Only ideas manifested by the fearful masses. He did not believe in them. They could not affect him…...or could they? What if the beliefs of the people were so strong that his own mind would have no choice but to except them as facts. He would be doomed to suffer the penance of another's beliefs.

    Gatsu laughed at himself. He would cross that bridge when he got to it. For now, he would live to kill those who had wronged him, and he would tell himself that what he is doing is for the good of Norwick. There was no wrong in that right? Was that not what everyone here did? Commit justifiable murder. It was not a matter of choice....it was a matter of survival....plain and simple. For a moment, Gatsu swore he could hear the demon king Femto. He swore he could hear him laugh.


  • Gatsu left the cemetary, chased away by the rains he had gotten so used to here in Norwick. He wrapped his cloak tightly around him and and put the cowl over his head. He walked in darkness. When he reached the Boarshead he found it crowded as usual. His seat however was undisturbed. He sat and ordered an ale. Misty smiled as she served him but didn't speak a word, needing to run off because of the amount of customers shouting for service.

    Gatsu stared at the occupants of the inn with a silent grin on his face. He had already managed to meet quite a few of them. He had met Rith Phoenixfeather at the Friar's home. She was in training to become an apprentice along with a girl called Careena. Never did catch her last name. It seemed the man had quite a few lovely girls under his wing. Must be that big teddy bear charm. Rith was very friendly and helpful. She saved Gatsu from a week of bedrest and a few rolls of gause after a bad run in with the vermin of the south wood. It seems she was attemting to build a temple for the flock of her god. Despite Gatsu's less than fanatical belief in such things, he wanted to help this woman and so donated an embarrasingly small amount. It was all he could manage at the time. Perhaps if he sees her again he could donate a bit more.

    Shortly after he had met Dando who spent his days within the walls of the Boarshead, weaving tales and playing fine music for all those that would listen. He had a care free spirit and was glad to help anyone in need. Gatsu liked him right away and was more than glad to have the man drink on his expense. It was nice to have someone to share a drink with for a change. Of course, it seems that ever since he met Cyna, he's been wanting to cut back on ale. Funny how easily a woman can affect a man in the decisions he makes in life.

    Gatsu had also managed to meet an interesting group of hunters on his patrols out in the woods. Gatsu could not help but laugh at the memory. "Lo'en Jaspenellar, Ranger un-extrordinare" Now there was a name that was difficult to forget. The woman was quiet, reserved, and deadly with the bow. They exchanged a few words before that fool Kalmir that Gatsu was traveling with decided to go on a suicidal bend and nearly got him killed and Gatsu, who tried but ultimately failed to pull him out, was left in an unconcious heap on the floor. Luckily Lo'en stayed near him and guarded him while help arrived. Such favors are not soon forgotten.

    Another interesting face was the small one Drago Dasher. His skill was if anything unexpected, but his help was invaluable. Vellan had managed to find himself in a bit of a tight bind. A large group of bashers and soilders sprung an ambush that meant certain doom. They howled and ran towards Vellan with the savagery and bloodlust known to run in their kind. And in comes Drago Dasher. "Here comes halfling death!" the little one cried as he entered the fray swords leading. The poor bastard goblins never knew what hit them. Despite Gatsu's size and formidable streangth, he would have been hard pressed to run into a mob of bashers and soilders. This halfling though ran into foes nearly his own size with the confidence of a veteran hunter and rid the world of vermin once and for all.

    It was surprising to him that the most prominent places to find and meet the most interesting people Norwick had to offer, were at the Friar's home, a meeting ground of the dead and wounded with those who wished to help them, and in the woods themselves. When people sat around the inn, they usually enjoyed the company of those they had already previously met. They shared drinks and tales of their exploits. Those that loitered around the campfire near the southern gates were usually ready to leave or coming back from a hard day of patroling.

    Gatsu took a long drag at his ale. Already at the Friar's he had managed to become aquainted with Gidush, the half-orc hunter who he found to a good spirited hunter, ready to help those in need and fight backt the horde of the south, and Jenna Joydancer. A girl that seemed to have aquired the love of the entire town. Gatsu owed a great debt to these two. For with compleate selflessness they offered to pool money together to try to revive Vellan the day he fell in the goblin wood. After seeing our willingness to pay, the Friar attempted the miracle of resurrection. Vellan's spirit however, was unwilling to once again merge with his body. Seeing that there was nothing to be done, the Friar gave a small prayer and appologized. It was simply his time to move on. Vellan had travelled with Gatsu for a long time. He would be sorely missed.

    It was also here that Gatsu had managed to exchange a few words with people such as the Paladin knight Kanen Hightower and the traveling bard Adam Broley amongst others. Gatsu was almost tempted to aquire a spot near the fireplace at the old Friar's and watch as the people came and went from there…..almost tempted but not quite. He chuckled slightly as he saw Dando, drunkedly walking about, trying to make his stories sound coherant. This was a good place to be.


  • Gatsu walked slowly back into town staining the earth with blood. Vellan, his new odd blue skinned friend, supported his massive weight on his shoulders. A pretty young girl leading them towards the home of Friar Fred.

    Gatsu sat at the campfire at the southern gate. He watched the fires dance as his mind searched his memory for the most disturbing and saddening images it could find. His father….why could he not remember his name? Why could he not stop thinking of him, of Gran, and of the dark wings of Femto? Why could he not put his past behind him and move on with his life?

    "Well met sir." he heard someone speak near him. He raised his head to see a strange, blue skinned man looking at him.

    "Hello." Gatsu said not knowing what else to say.

    "The forest crawls with goblins, what say we go lessen their numbers?" The blue skinned man said.

    "You seem rather eager." Gatsu grinned. "Those creatures have wronged many here in Norwick...you must be one of them."

    "You know we both want them dead." The man smiled. "Why bother with reasons."

    Gatsu raised his eyebrows at the comment. "Blind violence is the path of the reckless. You'll get yourself killed out there with that attitude."

    "No...I won't." The man responded. "Are you coming...or not?"

    Gatsu laughed and stood. "What's your name hunter?"

    "Vellan." the blue skinned man nodded.

    "I'm Gatsu."

    "I need to buy a few things." Vellan said. "Wait here for me, I'll be back."

    With that Vellan left Gatsu with his thoughts. Who would have known this bloodthirsty, seemingly irrational man would become such a valued friend.

    He would never had believed the day would end up like this. It had started very peacefully. While he waited for Vellan, Gatsu had met a young girl just outside of town.(I am sorry, I cannot remember her name to save my life. If you read this and remember the talk please pm me.) They spoke of each other's pasts and how they came to reside in the secluded barbarian village. It was during their conversation that the girl noticed that the town guard was staring blatantly at her. She felt very unconfortable. Not wanting to cause too much trouble they decided to talk just outside the walls, of course not before she gave him a good slap in the face for good measure.

    The town of Norwick had seen a shift in the tide on the last few nights. The goblins had lost many to the town's constant raids into the forest and had been forced to retreat away from what had before been known as Goblin lake. If that name will ever change, only time will tell. It was a great victory for the town. With patience and dedication, even the uncountable amounts of goblins that live in those woods saw themselves in need of a hasty retreat. They were still out there, threatening, but at least the immediate forest outside of Norwick was safe to travel.

    As it turned out the girl was a talented bard and related a very sad story of hatred and religious percecution. Gatsu found it hard to believe people could be so cruel to one another over something they could not prove to be right or wrong about. Faith in something is no excuse to bring harm to others. Much less to kill people that have done nothing wrong other than have a different opinion. It was at the end of her tale that Vellan passed by, eager and hungry to kill the little green vermin of the the Rawlinswood. His bloodlust impressed Gatsu. As much as he himself hungered to see the bandits of the Nar's Pass fall before him, Vellan's hatred for the goblins seemed unending.

    They patrolled the woods for a few hours. Finding a few pockets of the creatures here and there. The girl seemed adept despite her shyness and things were going well untill a small unit of soilders decided they had had enough of their patroling. Despite knowing better, Gatsu and the others held their ground and though they survived the encounter, Gatsu's bones were now heavily fractured and broken from the impact of their deadly maces. It was almost impossible to walk.

    When they entered the Friar's house, the girl saw a friend who she introduced as Bruno Galpen. A large friendly looking fellow who gladly healed Gatsu's wounds with no desire for monetary compensation. As the big half-orc's power flowed through him, Gatsu felt his bones snap painfully back into place, and then a soothing warmth as they regenerated and healed. There were few words to thank Bruno for his kindness but the laughing cleric did not seem to want to hear it anyway. He just waved them away hoping them good luck. Gatsu has seen him many times since then but the giant half-orc never seems to remember him. Then again with so many flocking for his aid, how could he be expected to?

    Having been at death's door so many times in his life had taught Gatsu to not take things too seriously. All things come and go. It was something he believed whole heartedly, but it was also a belief that was tested over and over again by the trials of life. His inner rage towards the bandits would give him no peace. He would kill them all, one by one if necessary.

    The rest of the night was spent at the Boarshead Inn. Vellan, Misty, and Gatsu sat in a corner enjoying the ale and each other's company. Misty listened to their stories of the hunters of the Rawlinswood with mild interest. She had heard it all before but sat there anyway and let the boys vent their excitement. She of course could not stay long, but her presence was a comfort to Gatsu.


  • Blood, Steel, and Ale.

    OOC: I wanted to document Gatsu's story as he lives it now in Narfell. Gatsu however is not the type to keep a journal so I'll be doing this in the good old third person. I'm going to try to mention everyone I meet and travel with since it's all of you that make Narfell worth visiting. I apologize in advance if I leave anyone out. Sometimes the crowds can get rather massive.

    Gatsu stared down at the grave of the plainsman that had taught him the way of the sword. It had been a while now since he had dug this grave. So much had happened since then. He walked a few paces to where his friend Vellan now lay, struck down by a band of goblins in the southern woods.

    Vellan had not been the only one he had seen fall in his weeks in Norwick. His was however the only body he was able to carry back. So much death surrounded this small town, so much sadness. In the days that followed his arrival, he noticed this town was smothered in problems. In those days, not only did the Nars Pass bandits patrol the trade route from Peltarch, but the goblins were a very present threat. They ceaselessly patrolled the lake just outside the southern gates.

    The nights in Norwick are cold and wet. Gatsu spent most of his first nights in the Boarshead Inn, watching people come and go. He sipped his ale in silence and kept mostly to himself. He really didn't know anyone, except for Misty. But then again Misty knew everybody.

    "Hi Gatsu." Misty said walking up to him. "Everything okay?"

    "Yeah." Gatsu said. "Just thinking."

    "You really have to stop just sitting there and drinking ale," she smiled warmly. "As good as it's been for buisness I personally don't want you getting all fat and flabby looking."

    Gatsu smiled. "Place seems rather crowded tonight, what's going on?"

    "The goblins have become a real problem lately. People have been meeting here to figure out how to handle them."

    "I see." Gatsu looked over at the crowded tables. A variaty of races, all joined in a united effort to protect their home. This threat was very real.

    "You should head over there and introduce yourself." Misty said smiling. "Tell them you're wanting to hunt with them. I'm sure they can use another strong arm."

    "I don't want to make a pest of myself." Gatsu frowned. "Besides, they look like they know what they're doing."

    Misty frowned and shook her head. "Don't be stupid Gatsu, you're acting like a shy kid. This town needs all the help in can get." Misty turned her head and called out. "Hey Tor! Come here a second."

    Gatsu smiled. If information was power, Misty was the deadliest occupant of Norwick. She had a flawless memory. She remembered everyone that came to the inn by name and she overheard every conversation that took place here, in this unnofficial meeting hall. It was frightening how much she probably knew.

    "Yes?" Tor asked.

    Before Misty could complete her little embarrasing senario, Gatsu stood and nodded at the small elf. "Well met, name's Gatsu."

    As seemed the tradition in these lands the elf nodded back. "Tor here." he said.

    Misty smiled. "See how childish you were being?" she asked.

    Gatsu laughed. "Very well, just leave me alone about it will ya?"

    Misty walked away as she spotted a new face. "It never happened."

    Gatsu and Tor spoke at length. Tor had lived in town for quite some time and was glad to fill Gatsu in on the ins and outs of the town. After a few drinks, they decided to head out and see if they could be of any assistance with the goblin menace. The wood was dark and alive with the sound of combat. It seemed the town of Norwick did not tolerate these creatures. It was this night that Gatsu met the lovely archer Anduin Evenstar.

    Anduin seemed like a very kind person to him. She showed them the forest and rained death on the goblins with her trusty bow. Gatsu was glad he could help in the hunt of these creatures.

    Gatsu was surprised when he turned a bend and found a goblin coming straight at him, dressed in armor and a ceremonial head dress. The goblin stopped and snarled. To his surprise, the creature began to chant. Gatsu was frozen but Anduin had met such creatures before and was not at all surprised by them. She let fly and struck the creature down with a single shot from her bow. Gatsu looked back astonished. Her aim was flawless. A single arrow to the left eye.

    Anduin was kind enough to strip the goblin of his armor and hand it to him. After a quick wash at the lake Gatsu donned it proudly. An armor that has served him well to this day. That very night, Tor wandered off into the goblin's cave despite Gatsu having pleaded with him not to go to such a place. He has never seen him since then. Gatsu has never understood what could have possed him to do such a thing. Perhaps this place, the constant fighting, the death of so many, the blood that stains this land, can lead a man to madness. Who truly knows?

    Later that night he parted ways with Anduin, hoping her safe journeys. He enjoyed the sense of comradery that existed out here in the field. The "hunters" all came together for the single purpose of protecting their home, helping each other like extensions of a whole. It was a unity Gatsu was not used to seeing.

    It was a fine night for Gatsu. He sat at the Boarshead, relaxing from the day's turmoil with a cold ale. He was determined to push these vermin back away from Norwick. This was his home now, and he would protect it proudly.


  • Gatsu stood above Gran's fresh grave with the pain of loss squeezing at his heart. He had brought his mentor back from the Pass. Unfortunatly the Friar of Norwick had asked for an overwhelming fee to try to restore his spirit back into his body. Gatsu did not feel anger for the Friar. He understood this to be Gran's fate. There was no death more honorable than the death of a warrior protecting what he held dear to him. Before his burial he proceeded to remove the only thing of value Gran possesed. A small copper ring. He placed in on his finger and rubbed it fondly.

    He also took the time (and money) to register himself as a citizen of the town. The town had few homes but seemed to accept people lodging in the local in and at the Friar's home. He planned to stay here for quite some time. He had heard from the mayor's son that there was a goblin infestation to the south of town. It would be a good place to sharpen his skills so that he could one day stand up to the bandits who had robbed him of his father and his mentor.

    The people here were kind to the strangers that appeared on what seemed as a daily basis. The militia was strong and everyone here seemed to have a story to tell. It seems Narfell was quite an interesting place to live. Whether that was a blessing or a curse, was yet to be seen.

    "Goodbye my friend." Gatsu said as he let tears run unchecked down his face. "I'm sorry. I know there is no forgiveness you can give me. All I can do, is promise you…..promise you I will have revenge on those who wronged us. I will become strong. And I will use that streangth to avenge you, my father, and all those who fall to these bastards."

    Gatsu knew he would live with the guilt of his mentor's death for the rest of his life. He had acted without thinking and it had cost his only friend his life. He would be more careful from now on. He would find a way, to rid this land of the bandits, no matter how long it took.

    Gatsu had no prayer for his fallen mentor. The words Femto had spoken had become an obsession until the day they finally become clear in his mind. There were no gods but those that man created. The truth was, it was all just a pathetic ritual. He knew the priests to have power. He knew them to see visions of their lords. To him, it was they, always they, who manifested them. Just as he had manifested Femto and has been haunted by him to this very day. Femto was right about everything. He wanted to believe he was the descendent of the Blackswordsman. So much so, that he had cursed himself to follow a life filled with pain and torment. A life of darkness, madness, and devine retribution.


  • Gatsu lunged for Gran's exposed flank. His sword cut the air before it. His strike was met by Gran's shield with a loud clank. Gran swung for Gatsu's exposed forearms. Gatsu pulled back an instant before the sharp edge made contact with his flesh.

    "A bit slow there Gatsu." Gran sneered. "Almost had ye arms up on me wall."

    Gatsu grinned. A grin that always seemed to accompany his swinging a sword. "Not nearly close enough old man."

    Gatsu wielded his heavy greatsword in a wide arc forcing Gran to step back. Gran was impressed at how well Gatsu had progressed. It seemed he had not given up on being as strong as his little story hero. Damn boy even went as far as naming his sword Caska. Took care of it like it was a part of his arm. The guy had issues, but he would make a hell of a fighter one day. The deadly dance continued. Gran holding back Gatsu's savage attacks with his shield and longsword. He found himself constantly on the defensive, not able to find a decent opening.

    "Hail Gran!" came a voice from the distance. The warriors stopped their attacks to look upon the newcomer. A man dressed in blue and orange adorned chain approaced them casually.

    Gatsu's grip on his sword tightened. His teeth clenched and his face became an undisguised mask of hatred. He knew that the bandits traveled these lands frequently. Over the past six years he had the misfortune of meeting quite a few of them that came to "visit" Gran. He never once spoke to them though. No matter how hard they tried to get him to speak he refused to exchange anything but a hateful glance. He knew better than to be openly violent. Where there was one there were always more. The bandits had become convinced he was a mute and left him alone. Gatsu bore holes into the man with his gaze.

    "Ye still trying to be a soilder, ye washed up old shit eater?" The man laughed. "I thought ye'd be long buried by now."

    "Not likely." Gran said. "What ye be wantin'?"

    "It's tax day old man." The bandit walked up to the two armed men fearlessly.

    "I already paid me tribute to Atol." Gran said. "And that's all I'll be payin'"

    "Sorry old man," the bandit began "Atol gots some plans that require some major funding. Taxes just doubled." The bandit looked at the weapons the two men held. He seemed especially interested in Caska.

    "I'll take that sword as payment if ye don't have the money." The bandit said. He smiled, pleased by his own generosity.

    "I don't have the money." Gran said. "Here." he offered the man his own sword. "The boy's a bit attached to that blade, take mine."

    "No," the bandit said. "I want that one." Without any warning he reached out for Gatsu's sword. The man grimaced as he found the blade sheathed deeply in his chest.

    "She's all yours." Gatsu spat.

    "Ye damn fool boy!" Gran said. "Ye just killed us both. When the others find out about…." Gran's sentence was interupted by an arrow finding rest on his shield.

    "RUN!" he shouted and fled down the hill.

    Gatsu turned to see six armed bandits running straight for them. "Damn."

    The two made their way through the pass as fast as their legs could take them. It wasn't long though before Gran's age caught up with him.

    "Go! Keep running boy!" Gran held his chest as he struggled for air. "I'll hold'em."

    Gatsu froze. Why was he doing this? He had been his teacher for the past few years. He was like family. He had given him a home even though he had acted like an ungrateful urchin the night they had met. Now Gatsu had made a fatal mistake which this old man was ready to pay the price for. In a matter of moments their life had taken a turn for the worst. He saw the old man's face twist in concern.

    "Go ye damn fool!" Gran shouted catching his breath.

    "No." Gatsu replied. "This is my fault. I'll handle it." He saw the bandits clear the hill. They drew steel and approached their quarry.

    "They'll just send more after ye." Gran said. "Go to Norwick. The militia there can protect ye."

    "You'll come with me or I'll not go at all." Gatsu said taking his battle stance. The bandits closed the gap.

    Steel met steel in a frantic pattern. Gatsu kept his swings wide keeping three of the bandits at bay while Gran fought back the others. Gran noticed Gatsu had taken the defensive. He was no match for the bandits and he well knew it. The run had weakened Gran greatly but he had not trained all those years to go down easily. With an inhuman howl, Gran summoned every ounce of streangth in his body and began to advance. His swings became directed purely on offense. With his guard down the bandits closed in. The first bandit to move was quickly decapitated his body falling in spasms at his feet. The others used the opening and stuck Gran with their swords, one through the thigh, the other deep through his chest. Gran spat a gusher of blood and was still for a moment. His gaze turned to one of the bandits and he howled. The bandit's eyes widened as he saw Gran's sword arm fly up. The sword was impaled deep in his left eye, cutting through the bones of his face and the back his head. The other bandit twisted his sword in Gran's leg making the old man yelp in pain as he fell to his knees.

    Gatsu heard him scream but could not afford a glance. The bandits he fought would give him no quarter.

    The bandit pulled his sword free and plunged in just under Gran's clavicle. Blood flew on to the blade. Gran's own sword came up and found the warmth of the bandit's stomach. He ripped his sword out of the man's gut and watched as his entrails stained the Nars Pass.

    Gatsu felt the bite of the bandit's blade across his chest. They were slowly getting his timing. It was only a matter of time now. Seeing no other options left, Gatsu dug himself in and howled. With wild, ferocious arcs Gatsu began pushing the three men back. He felt his veins pump oil into the furnace of his heart. The first man to his right found Caska deep in his throught on Gatsu's initial attack. The others came in hard. One sword glanced Gatsu's forearm. The other however between his ribs. Gatu's vision became a red blur and his demonic scream echoed in the Pass. With Caska still in the first bandit's throught he swung to his left. A gusher of blood covered him. One of the bandits managed to duck. The other was quickly relieved of his head.

    The last remaining bandit saw his opening and lunged forward. His blow met Gran's shield as the man jumped in with the last of his streangth. Gatsu wasted on time. Taking Caska over his head he brought it down. Cleaving flesh, clavicle and four ribs, the greatsword bathed in blood.
    There was silence.

    Gatsu looked down to find Gran, staring blankly out into the Pass, blood flowing from his fatal wounds. Without a word, Gatsu placed his mentor over his shoulder and began walking slowly towards Norwick, holding the swordwound that continued to stain the grass beneath him with his life's blood.


  • The Black Swordsman. The man without a god. The man who hunted down demons with the ferocity of a devil. Cold and uncaring. He who survived the eclipse, destined to be a light in a world being raped by the darkness of the God Hand. The man who faught holding the Dragonslayer. A sword that no man could wield. A sword that by it's sheer size could barely be called a sword at all. His scars, deep horrible impressions that went much deeper than his punctured eye or his self severed arm. The maddening whispers and unrelenting darkness that was his curse. A curse in the form of a sacrificial brand on his neck.
    His was a tale of darkness, madness, and devine retribution.

    Gran watched intently as Gatsu launched his sharpened axes at the same tortured tree that had been his target for the past few years. The boy had grown. Tall, sturdy, and strong. Everyday for the past six years he had trained him to be a dangerous warrior. Gatsu seemed to have a very sincere love for his supposed anscestor. Gatsu, captain of the raiders. Second only to Griffith, leader of the Band of the Hawk.

    For a long time Gran had let the boy live out his fantasy of following in the man's footsteps. He even went as far as training him in the greatsword. Gatsu seemed happiest when swinging that overweighted chunk of metal. It wasn't until much later, only a year ago actually, that Gran sat the boy down, and told him about the part of the story that his father, a man who's name Gatsu had forever forgotten, had for some reason excluded. He still remembered Gatsu's face as he progressed through a tale Gran knew quite well. The tale of the Blackswordsman.

    Gatsu's past with the Band of the Hawk was only the prologue to the man's true ordeal. His true pain, his true challenge. The years that followed the eclipse were the darkest the land had ever known. To this very day. The world has yet to forget the scars inflicted in those horrible times.

    "Why did father never tell me this?" Gatsu asked after Gran had finished. "Are you sure this is true?"

    "As true as any story I heard." Gran said. "It be the tale of the Blackswordsman that most folk remember. The story yer father told ya, no, not much people heard of that one."

    "And this…..pixxie?" He asked.

    "Pakk?" Gran smiled. "Not many remember him either. It be blood and sex people want to be hearin' in their stories. Not preety little fairy folk."

    "But it seemed to be his only friend most times." Gatsu stated sadly.

    "Aye that it was." Gran replied.

    There was a long, silent moment after that. Gatsu seemed to try his best to make sense out of everything he heard. Trying to put everything together. Trying to make sense of it. When he broke the silence at last. Gran wondered if he should have said anything at all.

    "I'm not really his decendant am I?" Gatsu said. He stared at the ground at his feet. "My dad made all that up didn't he?"

    "I don't know boy." Gran replied. "People say odd things at times."

    Gatsu was in turmoil. Why had his father been so inclined to tell him those stories. Why had he made them such an important part of his life? Had his family really banished them because of this, or something else? It seemed like such a foolish reason.

    Gatsu had run from Gran that day. He needed to be alone. He didn't want the old man to watch him as his world came crumbling around him. He was glad to see Gran let him go. He ran to the old gnarled tree that served as his bullseye. He couldn't understand why his father had never ended the story. Why he had excluded what seemed like the most important parts of the tale to him.

    As he tried to make sense of it, he felt a little lightheaded. His heart began to beat irregularly. He began to sweat profusely, his vision became blurred, and in a moment, he was falling.

    When Gatsu opened his eyes he was in darkness. Not a complete darkness. No, something far more strange. He could see his own hands in front of him but nothing past them. It was a hollow, oppresive darkness. He looked around frantically. Too scared to move, he felt his heart threaten to explode in his chest.

    "Gatsu." He heard the darkness whisper. Gatsu remained silent. Trying to find the origin of the sound.

    "Gatsu." the darkness seemed to mock him. A flash of leathery flesh and Gatsu's throught was wrapped in sharp talons. The hand that held him began to squeeze. He felt his feet leave the ground they stood on. He tried to pry the arm away but despite its small frame, it was inhumanly powerful.

    "Gatsu." A face emerged from the darkness. The visage of a hawk, dark and hideous. A face made of leather with a beak of steel, and the eyes of a man.

    Gatsu's skin became a shade of sickly pale. His eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. He wanted to scream but the hand that held him would not permit it. It was him. It was Femto.

    Gatsu felt something few people have the pleasure of experiencing. The face of immenent death, staring at him, for what seemed like an eternity. Death usually came swiftly and with little ceremony. It is only those who die slow, who can truly appreciate it for what it really is. A terrifyingly humbling experience. It is at this moment that each man realizes how insignificant his existence truly is. He wanted to cry out. He wanted to shout out for the gods to save him. Somehow though, in this creatures presence, he understood something. Without his desire or concent, he learned a deadly secret. No one was listening. Gatsu knew he would not survive this. It was a fact, not a possibility. And in this moment, when he had lost everything he ever knew, Gatsu felt strong. He grinned. A savage hateful grin. Femto's eyes narrowed.

    "Hi." Was all Gatsu could manage. He felt his body begin to numb. Femto dropped him. He lay on the ground, a ground that felt warm and slick to the touch, and gasped for air. When he could manage it, he looked up at Femto who stared back expressionless. The creature's lips curved in what seemed like a smile.

    "Well?" Gatsu asked. He had quickly tired of this game.

    Femto's lips began to move. Though no sound eminated from them, Gatsu understood everything that was being said.

    "You brought us here Gatsu. We are a memory. A memory held together by your desire. Like the gods weak men make, gods who are only an idea formed by the conciousness of a fearful world, we live as an idea in your mind. Your belief in us is what makes us be. You and those who remember us are our creators, in turn, we are your gods."

    Gatsu's brow furrowed. "What?" He didn't understand. Gods were not created by man, man was created by the gods. The priests who worshipped and dedicated their lives to their gods had the power to heal and protect others of their faith. How could this be a lie?

    "It is their belief in what they themselves have created that is the true origin of their power. Not their gods." Again the silent lips moved. "It is the united conciousness of existence that creates the planes of existence that you know as Heaven and Hell. It is the united conciousness of these creations that make up existence. It is a spiral, with no true beginning or ending. I came here now because your unending desire to believe in us has caused us to manifest. Because your desire to be the decendent of the Blackswordsman is so strong, his life, has now become your life. You have already written your own fate. You are a slave to it."

    Gatsu stood still holding his neck which burned from Femto's grasp. "I....I don't understand." Was all he could think to say.

    "You will." Femto said inaudiably. With that he retreated into the darkness and it faded as quickly as it had come. When he awoke he was laying at the base of the tree with his throught clasped tightly in his own hands. Had he done this to himself? Gatsu held his head and cried. Having lost his grip on reality. He felt a weight too terrible to bear.

    That night Gatsu had returned from his walk, haggard and silent. Gran regreted having said anything to the boy. He looked terrible. They had not spoken about it after that. Neither of them seeming to want to bring it up. Gatsu had insisted on continuing his training with the greatsword though. His intentions however were a mystery to Gran.

    "Hey Gatsu!" Gran called out to him. "Stop tryin' to kill that damn tree boy. Ye haven't been able to in six years. I doubt ye be doin' it any time soon! Come get yer food before I help meself to it!"

    Gatsu waved and retrieved his axes. He walked back into the house without a word. Ever since that day, Gatsu had gotten stranger and stranger to Gran. He seemed obsessed with his training. He was eager. It was what he was so damn eager for that Garn wanted to know. What was so damn important about that damn fairy tale anyway? And what the hell had happened to him when he ran off like that?

    Gran shrugged and finished his meal. He figured Gatsu would tell him one day. And if he didn't, well, that was his buisness then.


  • Gatsu groaned and held his stomach tightly.

    "Ye ate that damn deer like ye never tasted food before boy." Gran said still eating his food slowly. "How long have ye been out here?"
    "Only a day or so." Gatsu replied. "I hadn't eaten the day the bandits attacked us."

    "Aye, the bandits." Gran returned to his food.

    The place that Gran called his home was a small straw and mud hut hidden from the northern winds by a sloping hill. He was a farmer it seemed. Mostly vegetables in his plot which looked more like a bloated garden than any kind of farm Gatsu had ever seen. Two cows and a few chickens. Just a poor old man trying to survive in the wild. The inside of his hut was a smelly little room with a pile of straw in a corner with a blanket over it and a few crates and boxes thrown here and there.

    Gatsu was not at all surprised when he saw that the deer they were to eat that night had not even been skinned yet. Garn cheerfully put him to work. After a few hours of skinning, butchering, and cooking, Gatsu began to feel more confortable around the old man. He didn't seem at all bad, just a little off, like most old people tend to be if left alone too long. They ate their dinner outside by the dancing light of a campfire. Gatsu was hesitant to be out in these lands but Garn assured him the bandits knew he lived here and usually just left him alone.

    The food was quite good. Freshly cooked deer meat with some potatoes and carrots from the bloated garden. He over ate though. His stomach was killing him.

    "Norwick be only a few miles from here." Garn said while simultaneously chewing on his carrots. "Ye got family there?"

    Gatsu shook his head. "My father was killed when the caravan was attacked. I don't have any family left."

    Gran stared at him for a moment. "Ye got yeself some money at least?"

    Gatsu shook his head again.

    "How ye be plannin' on livin' then boy? Ye wantin' to be a begger in a small poor town?" Gran through his hand up in exclamation. "The first winter will claim ye homeless arse."

    "And I take it this mud pile is any better than nothing at all?" Gatsu shot back.

    "It be ye damn ingrate!" Gran spat. "It keeps me warm and dry boy. That's all I be askin' to be, warm an dry."

    After a long pause between them Gatsu broke the silence. "I don't have a choice either way. I have no where else to go."

    "Bah!" Gran spat again.

    Gatsu lay back and looked up at the stars. The grief of his recent loss crept up on him again but he bit back the tears and stood up sharply.

    "We're even then old man." He began. "Maybe I'll see you again some day."

    "Now hold on there boy I ain't done wit ye yet." Gran said standing.

    Gatsu's eyes narrowed. He stood tense, ready to sprint.

    "How ye like to live here wit me?" Gran said sheepishly. "I could use the help. Ye'll have food every night and a straw bed of yer own to come back to."

    "And in return?" Gatsu asked.

    "Did the blood clot yer ear boy? I be needin' help around the farm. Ye can fetch the eggs, milk the cow, plow the field."

    "No." Gatsu began to walk away. Now it was Garn who looked threatening. He took a step forward. Gatsu drew an axe and aimed it at the old man.

    Garn smiled broadly at him. "Ye got spirit boy." He said. "Ye can be a fine warrior if ye be willin' to be trained."

    "Trained?" Gatsu asked mockingly. "Trained by who? You?" Gatsu laughed.

    "Don't be forgetin' I bested ye already boy."

    "You snuck up on me!" Gatsu shouted. "Face to face things are different."

    "Be they now?" Gran smiled and charged. Gatsu was taken aback by the old man's speed. Instinctively he threw the axe. Gran side stepped the missle and drew his sword. Gatsu's eyes widened as Gran's sword stopped just under his chin.

    "Well?" Gran asked smiling. "What say ye now boy?"

    Gatsu stood shocked. He licked his lips. "So you'll train me if I tend your field and your animals?"

    "That's what I said ye damn brat." Gran lowered his sword. "I gots no one to talk to…....I fear I may be losing me mind out here."

    Gatsu considered. The image of his father's body flashed before his eyes. The stories of his ancestor flooded him. Gatsu, captain of the raiders. Gatsu the invincible.

    "Yes." Gatsu hissed. His face turned into a fierce grimace that gave Gran pause for a moment. "Teach me to be strong."


  • Gatsu lay in a pool of blood staring up at a large dissembodied eye. It glared at him menacingly in the hallow darkness. Nearly paralyzed with fear, Gatsu was barely able to speak.
    "Wha…what are you?" Gatsu yelled. "What do you want?"
    As he spoke Gatsu saw a figure emerge from the scrutinous eye. A single perfectly shaped leathery wing tore through the eye's soft membrane. It shined with morbid beauty. Glistening in blood.

    Gatsu woke. His body covered in cold sweat. His heart pounding. The sickly sweet smell of death filled his nostrils. His father's body had begun to swell. He had soiled himself and the flies had begun to swarm around him. Holding back his disgust, Gatsu crawled from underneath the wagon. It had stopped raining, but the dark clouds still lingered as if they had no other sky to call their home.

    Gatsu dropped the shovel he had used to bury what was left of the caravan. His hands were sore and bruised. He wiped the sweat from his brow and drank deeply from a water skin he had found on one of the corpses. He noticed that not all of those who traveled with the caravan had been slain. The women who could not fight were all missing. So were many of the children. They must have been taken for the future entertainment of the attackers. Gatsu wondered why he had not been dragged off as well. In the commotion, he must have been forgotten and left for the dead. The caravan had hired a group of mercenaries to guard it on its long journey to Narfell. It seems whoever had should have thought twice before pinching his coppers. They seemed to all have fallen without much of a struggle. Taking as many knives and axes as he could find, Gatsu waited until night fall and began making a slow, careful advance towards the direction he believed the town of Norwick to be.

    The clouds that had hung above him for the length of his journey finally relented their wares and the rains began again. Though it took him nearly an hour in the dark, freezing storm, he managed to find suitable cover from it under a tilted boulder. He sat in silence, staring off into the darkness. He remembered that horrible dissembodied eye and the one sharp leather wing protruding from it. He could not shake the terror he had felt. The purity of the entity within that eye. When the rains subsided, Gatsu crawled out of his hiding place and continued on his journey towards Norwick.

    The sound of a cloak snapping as the wind caught it was the only warning Gatsu had that someone had managed to sneak up behind him. Before he could turn, he felt the sharp point of a sword against the back of his skull.
    "Well, who do we have here then?" asked the man behind the blade. Gatsu was perfectly still. Flashes of his father's sudden death brought fear bubbling up inside him. "Well, speak up!" The man nicked Gatsu's ear with the tip of his sword. The sudden sharp pain made his eyes water.
    "Gatsu....my name is Gatsu." he said finally.
    "Gatsu huh?" The man began to circle him. Gatsu saw the face of a man that had seen many winters. His hair was mostly white, his skin was dry and leathery. He had a horrible scar that went from his right cheek bone to the bridge of his nose. "What ye be doin' out in Nars pass at this hour boy? Don't ye know they be bandits roaming about?"
    "Yes." Gatsu said glaring at the stranger. He felt the wound he inflicted begin to sting. "I know."
    "Don't ye be gettin' smart wit me urchin or I'll be interducin' ya to the bottom of me boot!" the man barked.
    Gatsu stared him straight in the eye. The fear of a bandit attack still present but slowly subsiding. He was at a loss and with little choices left available. All he could do was buy himself some time and hope someone came along to help him.
    "I know there are bandits about." Gatsu said, venom in his voice. "They attacked our caravan and killed everyone in it."
    The stranger looked long and hard at the boy before him. "I see then." he said at last. "So ye think ye can hunt them down by ye self then?"
    "No." Gatsu said earnestly. "I'm trying to get to Norwick. I know I'd die if I tried such a thing."
    "Heh." the man spat. "Not as stupid as ye seem then. Ye be headin' the wrong way boy. Norwick be that way." The man pointed in almost the opposite direction Gatsu was heading. "Ye be headin' for the orc plains boy. There be nothin' but death out there."
    Dispite for his disliking this man, Gatsu had to admit he was grateful he was stopped from entering such lands. "Thank you." he said.
    "Look boy. Ye'll not live long in these parts if ye can't keep and old man like me from sneakin' up behind ye."
    Gatsu's eyes narrowed.
    "I'm sorry I nicked ye boy. How bouts ye share some deer meat wit me and we call it even eh?"
    The sound of food was an overwhelming temptation but Gatsu didn't like this old man and felt it better to be rid of him. "No." he said firmly.
    "Oh, so ye gonna get all proud on me eh?" The old man scowled. "Well then ye comin' wit me and havin' some damn deer meat whether ye likes it or not. Now get movin'!" The old man put his sword closer to Gatsu's neck. "Go on then."
    Gatsu had no choice but to be led at sword point. As much as we tried to shake the thought, the idea of cooked meat made his pace a lot less hesitant then it should of been.
    "Name's Gran by the way." Gran said cheerfully. "Aye, a fine meal be awaitin' ya boy. I ain't had a visitor in quite some time now."


  • "Hey dad," Gatsu sat next to his father who was busy repairing a prominent hole in one of his two only boots. "The Band of the Hawk, they were mercenaries right?"

    "That's right." his father grunted past the piece of leather in his mouth. He smiled knowing his vast knowledge of their ancestor's legend was about to be put to good use.

    "So they sold their swords and killed anyone they were told to?" Gatsu asked with the innocent exitement of his young years.

    "Well, sort of," his father said as he worked the leather patch into place. "They weren't common thugs as you well know. They were strong, well organized and unbeatable. They worked for high wages and overtook fortresses that were considered impenetrable. They were well known and feared. Their leader was brilliant."

    Of course. Their leader….........Griffith.

    "Do you think I'll be like Gatsu one day?" the boy asked. It was strange to see the boy say his own name with such reverance. "Big, strong, and dangerous looking." Gatsu had been raised with stories of his namesake. The great swordsman who next to Griffith, was known as the greatest of warriors by those that surrounded him.

    "I don't see why not?" his father said smiling. You have the potential to be a great swordsman one day. If you work on it of course." His father smiled as he always did when sharing these stories with his son.

    "I want to lead my own Band of the Hawk one day." Gatsu proclaimed. "We will go out and tear down the walls of our enemies. We'll all be real good friends and travel the country side. Maybe one day, we'll be called by a king and made knights like the Hawks were."

    "I don't know Gatsu." his father said. "This is a dangerous world we live in. Legends are remembered because of how rare they are. They may seem like a desireable dream to live but the hardships involved are more than you can imagine."

    "I know." Gatsu said dismissively. His mind was already racing with dreams of fame and high adventure.

    Gatsu's father smiled at him. His son was becoming everything he had hoped for. Brave, strong, almost reckless in his desire. He would not be one to grow up to be a commoner....he had a future. He would be a great warrior one day.

    Cold. A horrible numbing cold was his first indication that he was awake, that he was alive. He felt dropplets of water hit his body at an increasing rate. He tried to move but a jolt of pain shot through his head and promply grounded him. He tried opening his eyes but found them caked by a dry gunk he could not peal off. Using the rain water he managed to remove enough of the substance to open his eyes. He found that it was his own caked blood that had blinded him.

    Biting back the pain he managed to sit up and take a look around him. The carnage that was left by the marauders was heartbreaking. The bodies of the merchants lay sprawled around him. Their eyes staring and lifeless. Their faces frozen in silent screams. The wagons had been looted, turned over, and burned. There was no sign of the murderous bandits anywhere. His father still lay motionless on the floor. The bandit's arrow buried deep in his chest. Gatsu lowered his head, glad for the rain that washed away the tears of hopelessness he could not hold back.

    After a time survival took over and, grimacing, feeling as if he was dragging a boulder behind him, he managed to stand and slowly stumble away from where he had fallen. Taking the limp bloody form of his father he managed to drag him under one of the burned wagons. For hours he sat there, staring off as the rains cleansed the battlefield at Nar's Pass.
    It was as he sat there, reliving the last moments before the caravan was attacked in his mind, seeing everything perfectly clear,over and over again, that he noticed with growing dread, that he could not, as hard as he may try, remember his father's name.