3. Nial Nightwind

Nial Nightwind


  • Account name Bloodedblade
    Character Nial Nightwind

    The candlelight gleamed off the wooden scroll case in his hand. The messenger had delivered it earlier in the day but something stayed his hand from reading it in public. It had caught Nial off guard to be honest so long had it been since he had heard from his brother. How many years had past since he had last seen him at least 5 or 6 years? Clayton would be almost 18 now if his memory served him correctly. Nial smiled as he remembered his little brother always so quiet yet eager to follow him in his outings back at Fort Vindar. The thought of the Fort brought back the memories he had long thought locked away. He shook his head to rid his mind of them but they came crashing back once again.

    Fort Vindar wasn't much but a palisade of heavy logs covered in mud to help prevent them from catching aflame. The buildings inside were also made of logs since stone had to be brought in from afar. Still it had stood for quite sometime due to the vigilance of its protectors. The settlers around the Fort would gather in times of the Orc attacks to band together inside the fort. Life wasn't easy but hardship was something that people on the frontier were use to. Nial's father Marek was the commander of the fort and in charge of repelling the frequent orc attacks on it and the settlers. The boys knew no other life and to them it was an exciting one. In times of peace the brothers would sneak out of the Fort to go fishing in a nearby lake often to the dismay of their parents who feared they would find more then fish on their forays. Thandra their mother was a lovely and kind woman who taught her children to read and write and much of the history of the lands.

    Clayton was an apt pupil and took to the lessons like a duck to water. Nial was a harder one to bring under her spell during these lessons. Tales of battles and warriors were required to interest him and she knew he was his father's son. Nial's training in weapons came early on when he constantly begged his father to let him begin. Marek finally relented to let him train with old Lars as long as he studied as well with his mother. It was a small price to pay for Nial to train with Lars the weapon master of the fort. Some had said Lars hailed from the Icewind Dales and he certainly looked the part of those tribesmen of those icy lands. Lars stood just shy of 7' and wielded a greatsword like most would a wand. The giant warrior took a shine to the young boy and would often let him work his forms to learn the ways of the blade. Words of praise or a correction with a stout staff were the ways Lars would show his approval or disapproval. Lars simply said it was better to take a rap from the staff then a blow from an enemy’s blade from a foolish mistake. Commander Marek watched his son with pride and the rest of the soldiers in the fort did as well. They all seemed to like the lad who was always willing to lend a hand in whatever needed doing being it polishing the armor or bringing water to the guards on the walls. Truly this was the best life one could have thought Nial to himself and so it was for a time.

    The air was charged with tension as the orc attacks had begun to come with more frequency and ferocity. The settlers had pulled back around the Fort for protection and watched the skies turn black from the smoke as their homes and crops burned. There was little enough they could do as those that had tried to save their homes had been found slaughtered amongst their livestock. Marek knew that something was different this time from the other uprisings. The orcs had found a new chieftain and this one was a cunning foe. The patrols from the fort would set out in search of the orcs but instead of simple charges and attacks the orcs now would lie in wait and ambush. The numbers of orcs appeared to be growing as well and Marek knew the fort was in peril. Settlers began to leave fearing the slaughter to come but the Soldiers had no such option their orders being to hold the fort at all costs. The numbers began to dwindle and soon Fort Vindar would dangerously undermanned.

    The attack came at night and fire arrows flew over the walls to land on the buildings. Women and children tried their best to douse the flames as the men fought on the walls holding off the horde. A make shift triage was set up and the women of the soldiers and settlers treated wounds as best they could so those that were able to still fight could return to the walls. Arrows darkened the skies and men and orc fell transfixed by the shafts of their enemies. The numbers were too vast and the army of orcs seemed to have the fort surrounded it was only a matter of time. A voice cried out that the orcs had gotten on the walls followed by a scream of pain. Marek looked out at the sea of orcs and knew fear for his family. Over the side of the wall clambered an orc with his axe already swinging towards Marek. Well trained reflexes soon slipped under the orc’s guard and cut his chest wide open leaving him to fall back over the wall dying and knocking a few more orcs back down to the ground. Large dark shapes were beginning to grow in number on the walls of the fort. Marek looked down at his oldest son Nial throwing up bundles of arrows to the soldiers on the walls trying vainly to keep them supplies. Cold hands gripped his heart at the thought his family falling into the clutches of these beasts. A shout to Nial caught his attention and he heard his father shouting to gather his brother and mother and those they could and retreat out of the fort. "Watch over them my son" Nial wiped a tear from his eye as he shouted "Aye" to his father and quickly ran to find his family.

    The flames leapt high as Nial ran through the fort searching for Clayton and the others. Arrows rained down on the ground around him missing him by inches. Bodies of women and children lay strewn about pierced by black fletched arrows. "Clayton…Mother!" shouted a desperate Nial as raced to find his family in this flaming hell. There by the wall kneeling over his mother was Clayton. Nial ran to him shouting that they must be off. Kneeling down to try and carry his mother Nial saw the shaft of the spear that had pierced her. He knew that she was gone and there was nothing he could. Clayton was in shock and it took a good shaking and shouting to rouse him from his stupor. "We must leave her brother." Half dragging him Nial got Clayton down into the underground storeroom. "We can go out through the tunnel and come out in the woods if we hurry!" The tunnel was little more then an enlarged burrow hole that a wayward badger had dug the brothers had enlarged in order to sneak out of the Fort on their fishing trips. The tunnel was tight for the two and Nial knew the orcs even if they found it would never be able to follow them. They came out into the edge of the woods outside of the fort into the darkness. Flames leapt out of the Fort reaching up into the sky with orange fingers. The orcs were pouring over the walls now and none had theirs eyes turned toward the woods. Screams echoed out into the night. Nial took one last look at the Fort and whispered to himself " I'll watch over him father" and grabbing his brother's hand in his they ran into the night.

    The brothers found their way to the city of Heliogabalus and the only family they had. They had an aunt and uncle there a merchant his father had said. They were taken in by Galan and Kiera who had lost their only child due to an illness. The two boys filled a hole in the hearts of Kiera and Galan and they raised them as their own. Nial took it upon himself to help his uncle best he could at the shop in the square running errands and helping unload the wares. Galan could see that Nial's heart would never be in it though and encouraged him to seek employment with the guards when he was old enough to join. Clayton seemed to struggle to find peace after that night of flames as did I but his soul was a gentler one then mine. I frequently worried about him till he came to find his place at the Temple of Torm and the clerics seemed to realize that as well. Soon it came to pass that his brother was to leave for Tantras and enter the seminary there. Nial knew it was time to let his little brother choose his own path and embraced him on the day of his journey. "I shall always watch over you little brother." Nial said as he clasped Clayton's hand in a firm grasp. "We walk different paths...for now but there will come the day for us once more.” The years passed as Nial continued his training learning from whoever he could find to teach him. Soon a skilled warrior Nial came to be recruited for many dangerous undertakings that others would not dare. Now at age 20 and a grown man he found himself waiting for the next chapter of his life and the scroll in his hand was it.

    The candle light reflected off his blade leaning against the side of the bed in the small room. Nial leaned back against the wall reading the scroll from his little brother and a smile came into play upon his lips. “Aye little brother its time we were reunited once again. I’ll see you there.” That spoken aloud he prepares for the long journey ahead and blows out the candle.

    The burnt out husk of Fort Vindar still remained despite trees and grass growing up amongst the ruins. Nial saw a small cairn of stones just like the one’s he and Clayton had used to leave a message to one another when younger. Removing the rocks carefully he found another scroll with what appeared to be an old medallion covered in soot and tarnish. Nial read the scroll which spoke of Clayton arriving earlier then expected and still a few tasks that must be completed. The last sentence simply read “I will meet you in Peltarch my brother.” Nial surveyed the ruins where so much of his life seemed to rush back at him and looked down to the medallion wiping it off gently. Under the soot and dirt that covered it came the gleam of silver and gold. Nial’s eyes widened as he realized this was his fathers own amulet of Torm that he had worn in his duties as commander of the Fort. Tears came to his eyes as he realized his brother must have found it amongst the rubble and left it here for him to find. Carefully polished and wrapped Nial put the Medallion away in his pack and with a last look around at his childhood home set off towards the distance to a city named Peltarch.


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