3. The Chieftain

The Chieftain

  • ?

    **_Two-faced (III)

    For a few weeks, everything was quiet. The cowardly Shadowstrider had run off and was nowhere to be found. The mysterious "second Shadowstrider" had not turned up since Uthger had been murdered in the Pass. Questions had still been left unanswered. Rick kept an eye out, however, as he made his daily patrols around the Hill. He and Aaimie shared some time together, as she was upset that her closest friend whom she had known for years suddenly turned his back on her. Sam continued to keep his watch over Durai and his beloved Shalia like a hawk, rarely letting the two out of his sight.

    Sam had made a vow to his friend and mentor, Kanen Hightower, to watch over his children should something happen to him. Sam would not break his word, and did what he thought was best for Durai as he searched for his father's whereabouts.

    Sometime later, however, something unexpected occurred. Rick was returning to Jiyyd from a patrol about the Hill to find the redheaded Adriana, clad in her armor with her shining great sword at her side, kneeling down in front of Jeni from the Gypsy Camp. Jeni bounded over to Rick, giggling and smiling happily; the two had become friends over the past year as the Cyrists, who now resided in the Gypsy Camp, had used her as a messenger in a silly plot of theirs. She told Rick, while munching happily on a cookie, that the Cyrist known as Michael wanted to speak with him. Adriana had pressing business to take care of in Jiyyd, so Rick and Jeni, hand in hand, went back to the Gypsy Camp. Rick couldn't help but smile at the child as she hummed and sang and bounced around as they walked along the road.

    As soon as they reached the Camp, Jeni bounded off towards Katya's tree to help her Aunt with her chores, and Sam came bounding through the trees with a concerned look on his face, a terrified Shalia trailing behind as quickly as she could.

    "Mr. Rick! Help Sam!" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs. Rick looked over, a bit surprised and Sam began to tell him that Durai had disappeared from the Boarshead Inn in Norwick, and Sam had followed the "path" of the kidnapper's evil scent to the Gypsy Camp. However, as they reached the camp, Sam began to lose concentration, and he explained he had lost track. As they searched around frantically, Michael came over and Rick asked him if he had seen Durai, but Michael replied he hadn't.

    "Thyrm and his gang ran by here with a large sack, though."

    Sam focused for a moment, and finally picked up the scent of evil once more through the graces of his lord Helm, and Michael told them that they ran south. All at once, Sam, Rick, and Shalia and the hin Scutum who had met up with Rick on the way to the Gypsy Camp sprinted south into the spider infested woods, with Sam hot on the trail of evil that led them to a cave swarming with little creatures that cackled and wild pixies. These creatures, gremlins, were no more than a nuisance to the four, and they cut through them easily, charging through the cave, and shouting for Durai. They acted too rash, however, and soon they found themselves the victims of an ambush by men in dark clothes with hoods hiding their faces. One was able to sneak up behind Shalia and drive his dagger deep into her back. Rick bounded forth and leaped at the man, swinging his axe as hard as he could, and removed the man's head in a single blow. Quickly, and in a strained voice, Shalia called upon her goddess and closed her wounds as best she could.

    The four dispatched the ambushers and charged forward, finally discovering Durai in a pit with a chest nearby. Rick searched around frantically for Thyrm, but neither heard nor saw anything as Sam helped Durai out of the pit. Durai ran over to Shalia and embraced her tightly as Sam began to force open the chest. Rick could hear no footsteps shuffling past with the sudden ruckus and gave up, deciding that Thyrm was gone.

    Sam forced the lock and pulled out a sword. Not just any sword, but the sword that Rick had seen Shadowstrider use in the Nars Pass. Finally, he was able to take a closer look at the sword, and found the word "Cardea" engraved into the base of the blade.

    "Tha fark is Cardea?" Rick asked, looking at the others who, each in turn, simply shrugged. They trudged back to the Camp, the gears in Rick's head spinning quickly. What was Cardea? It had to be some connection to Shadowstrider, but what exactly? Did it have to do with the grave they saw in the scrying of the green sash? So many questions, so few answers.

    That would change, however, when Rick and the others reached the Camp.

    Durai and Shalia laid down near a fire in the center of the camp, enjoying each other's company. An exhausted Sam laid down and passed out, snoring contently. Rick, however, was determined to get some answers, and sat down with the Cyrists and spoke with them. Finally, the truth came out, ironically enough from a group of Cyrists.

    There were, in fact, two Shadowstriders. There was no Doppleganger. There was no Rakshasa. Shadowstrider was not going insane, nor did any of their other theories prove to be correct. They were brothers: Perdix Cardea and Thyrm Cardea. Perdix Cardea was the Shadowstrider everyone knew. He served in Norwick's Militia, befriended Rick's beloved Aaimie and gained her trust, and served the Divine Shadow, Mask. His brother, Thyrm, recently arrived from Waterdeep with an underground organization known as the Shadowcars. This group of thugs, assassins, murderers, thieves, and other shady folks were known to wield a tremendous amount of power in Waterdeep. Michael explained to Rick that Thyrm came here to capture his brother, who fled Waterdeep after accusations flew surrounding his family's murder. According to Michael, who smirked and said that anyone will say anything with the right drugs, Perdix had been accused of killing his family, and fled the scene to safety. Rick showed Michael the sash and sword, and he speculated that perhaps the sword was a family sword. Satisfied, Rick thanked Michael and told Sam and Khaya, who had been in the camp when they returned from the woods, that they were heading to Peltarch to scry the sword for further information, as well as to see if the followers of the God of Lies were telling the truth.

    They reached Peltarch and headed straight for Daisy, and again saw the same gravestone. This time, however, Rick spotted the name "Cardea" on the headstone. Between Khaya's confirmation, the sword, and now the scrying, the Cyrist's words seemed to be truthful. The scrying also revealed Thyrm sneaking around the southern woods of the Gypsy Camp, nearby the cave that Durai had been dragged to by Thyrm.

    Once again, Rick and Sam had the upper hand, and knew the truth.

    A few weeks later, Rick again found young Jeni running around Nars Pass. His eyes went wide as he realized a bandit in hiding could take the little girl's life if she wasn't careful, and he rushed after her and stopped her, demanding to know why she was out of the camp. Michael had sent her to relay a message to Rick and Sam: It was time.

    After safely escorting Jeni back to the camp and speaking briefly with Michael, Rick charged off and found Sam heading north from Norwick with Durai, Shalia, and a few others. He told Sam the message, and they rushed off to the camp.

    The hunt began.

    Michael told them that Thyrm had been spotted to the south of the camp once again with his gang from Waterdeep. Rick, along with Sam, Durai, and dozens of others who pitched in to help, including Chiero, Maythor, and a young ranger named Jann Moonbow, set off to capture the man that had eluded them so many times in the past.

    They traveled south. Chiero scouted ahead often, and they plowed through the spiders as they trudged deeper and deeper into the woods. Suddenly, they came upon dark men in hoods who charged with daggers poised to dig into anyone they could, and Rick led the group into battle, shouting war cries. They tore through Thyrm's ranks, meeting their daggers and spells with volleys of skillfully aimed arrows, powerful axes, and swords.

    Finally, they came upon a small clearing in the woods. A natural bridge formed over a deep crevasse in the earth with a large waterfall sending water splashing onto the bridge and into the chasm below. The sight was breathtaking, and Thyrm had made his base here, corrupting the area around the hidden gem with his presence.

    "Come out Thyrm!" The hunters began to demand. Frustrated, Sam reached into his pack and brought out some exploding devices he had picked up from the Goblins of the Rawlinswood and began to toss them around. As they made contact with the ground, the flimsy devices sent off large explosions, shattering rocks and sending debris in every direction, pillars of smoke slowly rising into the sky. Suddenly, they heard a raspy cough, and Thyrm Cardea revealed himself. He stood behind the waterfall with a mocking smirk across his face.

    The interrogation began amidst raunchy jokes from Thyrm and threatening retorts from Chiero and Mirkali as Sam growled and stepped forward. Rick quickly took control of the situation, and shouted for everyone to quiet down. He approached Thyrm, and held out the sword, as well as the sash. Rick grinned. He saw the hesitation and fear in Thyrm's expression. The Cyrists had been right. Thyrm quickly regained his composure, but Rick persisted. He demanded to know the Shadowcars' plans, the story behind the fate of their father, and asked every question he had yet received an answer for. Thyrm replied to each with a smart remark, and the group was growing tired, restless, and disgusted with his sexual remarks and bathroom humor. Sam stepped forward and tied Thyrm's hands and hoisted him up onto his shoulder, and they began the trip back home. Maythor offered to open the jail cell in his base in Jiyyd, and they headed there.

    They reached Jiyyd and tossed him in the cell, and again they were met with sick jokes and insults. Mirkali offered a few humorous sentences to give Thyrm for his crimes, to which Thyrm smirked or replied with an even sicker comment. Chiero meanwhile, simply lost his temper and fired arrows into the cell. Sam sat down, tired with the ordeal, and Rick tried to maintain control of the situation.

    Finally, Rick received the confession he had been seeking. Thyrm had come to Narfell, seeking his brother out to drag him back into service in Waterdeep with the Shadowcars. They had made a blood bond, and Thyrm demanded Perdix uphold that bond and aid his family. The crimes had been stated. Thyrm's father had been a knight of Torm in the Order of the Cloth in Waterdeep, and the green sash was his father's. Thyrm was guilty. Rick moved to remove him from the cell, taking out his axe. Durai moved to stop Rick, demanding that they send him to Waterdeep to face proper trial for his crimes there. Frustrated, the group turned to leave, but Thyrm stopped Rick and whispered in his ear.

    "Yeah, I killed him. I killed my father. I skinned him too. In fact, I was thinking of making a suit out of his flesh. He was holding me back. I was destined to serve Mask, not Torm. So, I murdered him."

    Rick’s eyes went wide as the confession came.

    "I hope they treat ye real nice in Waterdeep, ye sick bastard." Rick uttered in a harsh tone, and they turned to leave.

    It was done. Perdix had disappeared, and Thyrm had been caught. The man responsible for so many atrocities, so many murders, so much trouble, would be tried and justice would be served. Exhausted, but satisfied, the group went on their way, and Rick went to have a quiet meal with his beloved Aaimie._**

  • ?

    **_Two-faced (II)

    The next morning, after a lovely breakfast with Aaimie, Rick set out for his morning patrol around Sam's Hill. He was still unsure of what to do concerning Shadowstrider, and feared that if he didn't act soon, Aaimie might be put in danger. He patrolled the Hill and started the fire, and sat down to think. He went over every minute detail he could recall of the events that had happened, straining to think of a plan to prove to the others what he had seen. Rick was positive it had been Shadowstrider in the pass.

    Suddenly, he heard a struggle near the Hill and was brought out of his thoughts and spotted Talgrath nearby, cleaving a Marauder Cutpurse who had snaked her way through the tall grasses of the Nars up behind him and lunged for his throat. Talgrath sent the woman to her god with ease, and trudged up the Hill to talk to Rick. They two began to discuss the ordeal with Strider, and finally, Rick had a break.

    Talgrath mentioned the Cyrists, and explained to Rick that all they had wanted to do with the letters was cause confusion among their victims. What was happening now? This Shadowstrider was causing nothing but trouble and confusion. They began to discuss possibilities of a magical disguise used by the Cyrist to make himself look like Strider. It became more and more clear to Rick as the two spoke, and once again they had a plan. If there was indeed a Shadowstrider impostor out there, they needed to catch him and find out. They decided that if Shadowstrider were seen "acting odd," they would knock him out and bring him in and question him to see if their theory was correct. The two rushed off, grinning, to find Sam and tell him. They met the half-orc outside of Norwick with the young priest who Rick had met some days before. He had called himself Durron Hawkins. The man was a young Tormite who had explained to Rick that the sash Shadowstrider had dropped belonged to an organization of Tormites in Waterdeep known as the Order of the Cloth.

    However, Rick was in for a surprise that morning.

    Durron Hawkins was the name that Kanen's son, Durai Hightower, had taken for fear that whatever had befallen his father and denied him safe passage to Waterdeep to meet his family was still lurking about. Rick's eyes went wide as he looked over the young boy who couldn't have been over twenty, and listened to Durai's tale. Kanen was to meet his family in Waterdeep, but never showed. Durai had left the city without telling his mother to search for his father, and had traveled back to Narfell. He had been speaking with Sam in the Phoenix Hall when they noticed Shadowstrider slip out, and Durai had feared that perhaps Strider would try to kill him now that he knew his real name. Sam, Talgrath, Durai and Rick discussed their plan concerning Shadowstrider in the woods, and Rick felt that this would finally come to an end. All that was needed was for Shadowstrider to show himself.

    A week later, another break in the case was made. Rick had been standing watch on Sam's Hill, when suddenly it happened. He recognized the nearby shout and whirled around, just in time to see Uthger's body slump to the ground in a heap with a single crossbow bolt lodged in his back, blood flowing freely from the wound into the grass. Rick walked over to the body of his archrival and the ranger named Arah, unable to contain the smirk quickly growing on his face. Arah had seen the perpetrator and described a man that could have been none other than Shadowstrider. Rick stared at the elf with disbelief. Shadowstrider had just accomplished what dragons, demons, devils, fiends, war machines, and thousands of others had failed to do. Not just that, he had accomplished the task with a single bolt and escaped, unscathed. Arah was an old friend of Uthger's, and he began to question Rick on where to take his body. Rick snickered and joked, saying Uthger should be taken to see his best friend Tarien in Norwick. Arah simply scowled and headed for Jiyyd, while the Chieftain headed south for Norwick to find Sam and tell him the news.

    But this was only the beginning of what would be the most exhausting two days Rick had experienced in a long time.

    He arrived at the south gate and found Shadowstrider sitting quietly in his usual spot. This confirmed their suspicions that there was a second Shadowstrider. Rick barked accusations at Strider, but it proved to be fruitless as Strider explained he had been sitting there for some time. Rick saw no crossbow, and rushed off to find Sam. He found Sam with Durai and the elf Kharbeh and told them what happened. Why would Shadowstrider use a crossbow? He hadn't in the past. Theories began to fly as ideas of Dopplegangers, shape shifters and Rakshasas were discussed. Kharbeh and the others began to throw out more and more ideas and confused Rick more by the minute. Suddenly, he may not have been dealing with a simple Cyrist, but possibly a shape shifting Doppleganger or Rakshasa who had murdered Uthger with shocking ease. Rick thought perhaps Uthger might have seen Shadowstrider before he was killed, and sprinted to Jiyyd, only to find Pete talking and giggling with Cotton, and they told him Uthger had run off to Norwick to get revenge on Shadowstrider. Grumbling and cursing, Rick sprinted back to Norwick as fast as he could, and stumbled upon a large crowd at the south gate, watching an enraged Uthger with a low, red glow of a lust for revenge in his eyes charging after a limping Adriana in a duel, his axe covered with blood. Rick stopped, stunned to see Uthger charging Adriana, and watched him bring down the powerful Mystran cleric. Rick looked around and spotted Shadowstrider in a crumpled heap with raspy breathing and sitting in a large puddle of his own blood. Uthger had already gotten his revenge, but on the wrong Shadowstrider! He looked around, and sprinted back to where Sam had been standing and shouted angrily that half the town was at the south gate and Uthger had dueled both Adriana and Strider. The two sprinted back to the gate and began to shout, trying their best to get the crowd to quiet and listen to their explanation. However, their pleas fell on deaf ears. Everyone refused to listen. Adriana slinked off, and Rick ran up to Shadowstrider and the two began screaming at each other. Shouts for jailing Shadowstrider went out, and Rick realized that if they were going to prove they indeed had an imposter on their hands, they would have to isolate Strider. However, the Maskarran refused to be put in jail, stating that he would not let a Barbarian win and walk over him, and that he was leaving. Rick screamed at Strider, demanding that he go to jail for his own safety. Again, Strider denied and limped off, leaving a trail of blood behind him as he turned invisible. After he slipped off, Rick and Sam explained to the others that there were two Shadowstriders, and they were to be brought in, alive, for questioning so that matters could be settled once and for all. The crowd began to disperse.

    This, however, was not the only problem Rick would have to deal with.

    Sometime during the commotion, Rick heard a familiar voice shout the most degrading accusation she had thrown at him since he met her. Rick turned to face Nalum, and stomped up to her. She had the nerve to accuse Shadowstrider not only of carrying on an affair with Aaimie, but that Rick approved of it! Not just that, she had called both he and Aaimie Maskarrans! The nerve that woman had! To suddenly pop up again after years of being gone, expect the Chieftain to welcome her with open arms and free crafting tools, and she had accused him and his beloved of following a despicable, evil god! Again, another screaming match ensued at the gates of Norwick that night. Nalum refused to take back her words, and eluded Rick's grasp, turning invisible and running off. "COWARD!" He shouted after her, and stormed off.

    He headed for Sam's Hill, but was stopped at the northern gates of the town by a terrified Sam who shouted to Rick that Durai had gone missing.

    Rick snapped.

    He went into a state of sheer rage and frenzy, sprinting as fast as he could to Jiyyd, screaming nonsense intermingled with harsh swearing, his voice echoing off the hills in the Nars. He reached Jiyyd and plowed through the gates to find Pete still giggling and chatting with Cotton. No Durai. He screamed nonsense at them, barely aware of who they were. His mind was at its end. His vision faded, focusing only on the road in front of him. Uthger, Nalum's accusations, and Strider's cowardice raced through his head, unable to concentrate or think on anything else. Nearly plowing into the gentle cleric Cyrus at the northern gates, Rick stopped. Part of him demanded he keep moving, and part of him told him to stop. As his mind and body went to war, he began to wildly swing his axe in the air, digging up the earth, chopping down the road sign, and nearly hitting the poor, confused Cyrus in the chest with the weapon's sharp blades. Cyrus did his best to calm the enraged Chieftain, trying to decipher the nonsensical gibberish rushing out of Rick's mouth.

    Finally, Cyrus was able to get Rick to calm himself, just in time for Sam to come rushing out of the gates of Norwick, muttering to himself.

    "He's wid a gurl in the inn." The Paladin said sheepishly. Exhausted, covered in mud, and now hoarse from his tempter tantrum, Rick simply cursed, smacked his forehead, and sat down. His screaming must have been heard in town, as Rick's friend Mirkali came wandering out of the northern gate after Sam and Cyrus walked back inside town. Mirkali grinned as he saw Rick and sat down next to him, and the two began to talk, with Rick tiredly explaining what had happened.

    As if Rick hadn't had enough, a young Gnome suddenly ran up to the two with fear in his wide eyes, blood running down his arms from terrible wounds. The Gnome stammered and shook with terror as he explained to the two that his friend had just been killed and taken by large men with swords in black and red armor after a portal burst open with bright flames all around it. Mirkali and Rick chased after the Gnome as he led them to the site in the eastern parts of the Rawlinswood and showed them where the portal had appeared. The Gnome suddenly ran off into the rainstorm, screaming that he was "next in line," and Mirkali ran off to chase him, nearly colliding with Sam as he ran up to Rick and demanded to know what was happening. With wide eyes, Sam listened, thoughts racing through his head. The list of what it possibly could have been began to grow larger and larger as Rick explained the situation. Kharbeh suddenly popped up from the grass near them and explained to Rick and Sam that she had seen some man enter the old hideout of Norwick's most feared enemy: The witch Vinessa.

    A romp through the woods and a trip through the empty cave later, Rick climbed into bed next to his sleeping beauty Aaimie, exhausted. He hadn't even bothered to clean the mud and blood off of his armor and left it in a heap upon the floor of their small room in the Regal Whore. Tonight the Chieftain's thoughts raced from the door in the dark cave Kharbeh had said led to Drow, to Dopplegangers, Rakshasas and Cyrists, to Nalum's outrageous claims and accusations.

    Though it was far from over, at least for now he could sleep with his love in his arms._**

  • ?

    ((First off, big kudos to Riverthorn who spent a lot of time and hard work putting this amazing quest together! We all had a blast, and thank you for all your work. ^_^))

    _**Two-faced (I)

    Rick had just left Jiyyd, on his way to patrol the area around Sam's Hill. This was becoming a daily routine for the Chieftain and heir to the Hill when Sam would retire. Rick hoped Sam would not take his leave soon; although he knew he was able to take charge of the Hill, he would miss fighting alongside the great half-orc who had become his good friend over the years.

    As he walked along the road, he spotted a figure in black garments with a hood and an arm exposed. He recognized the man as Shadowstrider, and watched him fight off the Marauder Faithfuls that were hounding him and shouting at him. Rick charged forth and joined in the fight, never one to miss an opportunity to crack the skulls of bandits. The clerics were dispatched with ease, and Rick watched Strider. The man had a smirk on his face and a barbed sword in his hand, much different than Shadowstrider's usual weaponry of a bronze sword and shield. Today, however, Strider used a different sword, and no shield. He smirked at Rick and bent over and removed the left ear of each bandit he had killed. Rick frowned at Shadowstrider, and watched him mutter the arcane words that turned him invisible from sight.

    A week later, the same scene happened again in the Nars Pass. Shadowstrider fended off bandits with his barbed sword, and removed their ears, placing them in a pouch on his belt. Rick scowled at Shadowstrider and again he disappeared in a magical display. Rick had known Shadowstrider was a Mask follower, and he knew little of their clergy, save for the fact that most were corrupt, or had been hired out as assassins or the like. Perhaps this was part of their duty, he thought.

    A week later, again the scene occurred, this time near the Peltarch Tower in the Nars Pass. Rick's good friend Talgrath was with him this time, and the two watched Shadowstrider fend off the bandits and remove the ears. Rick growled and shouted at Shadowstrider, "Alright, what the fark ye doin'?" Strider replied with a smirk, "Collecting." Again, he turned invisible, and was gone. Suddenly, Rick spotted a green sash that was left on the ground. It had fallen off Shadowstrider during the struggle with the bandits, and he moved to pick it up. His expression turned grim as he saw the emblem of Torm on the sash, and thoughts began to race through his mind. Had Strider murdered a Tormite? Who was his next target? Rick shuddered as a terrible scene unfolded of Shadowstrider sacrificing his beloved Aaimie as part of his duty to his evil god.

    He began to talk things over with Sam, who had seen Shadowstrider act the same way while he sat watch on the Hill. Sam told Rick as well that while he was having a private discussion with a friend inside the Phoenix Hall, he spotted Shadowstrider inside, eavesdropping, and tried to catch him before he bounded out the door and disappeared. What was Strider up to? Why was he acting so strange? Was there an imposter? Rumors circulated that Shadowstrider had fallen out of favor with Mask, and perhaps he was trying to regain his status with his god and this was his way of doing it. Rick feared that he would take advantage of Aaimie's trust in him, and would target her. It terrified him that her closest friend was also a Mask follower. However, he had promised her that he would not harm him because of her friendship with Strider, and he planned to keep his word.

    A few days later, they found Shadowstrider sitting calmly by the south gate of Norwick. Rick rushed up to Sam, who was already there, with Aaimie following closely behind, and watched Chiero tackle Shadowstrider to the ground, shouting accusations of him slaughtering two deer in front of his eyes. As was to be expected, Shadow simply denied all the accusations of ever being in the Phoenix Hall, or having an ear collection, or slaughtering deer in the woods. The commotion must have been heard inside the town, as suddenly Norwick’s “finest” surrounded Rick and Sam. Rick realized he was face-to-face with all those who despised him the most: Rando, Uthger, Maythor Troff, and Krig Skullboil. The militia demanded to know why Sam and Rick were questioning and accusing a member of the militia, and they tried to explain their story. The intensity of the scene began to increase as tensions rose between those present, age-long rivalries being heated up again as quickly as a black shirt left out in the summer mid-day sun. With the militia captains vigorously defending their fellow guardsman, Shadowstrider finally agreed to allow himself to be placed under a spell that Krig would cast on him, forcing him to tell the truth. Again, Sam and Rick went through their questions, and again, Strider denied each accusation. Perplexed and distraught and now the laughing stock of the crowd, Sam and Rick slinked away and headed back to the Hill.

    Rick didn't understand. He knew what he had seen! Sam knew what he had seen! Rick stared out over the pass, his regal red cloak whipping at his feet in the wind as Sam began to pray quietly to Helm for guidance. Rick's mind refused to give up, however, and the gears continued to turn vigorously. He removed the green sash from its pouch on his belt, and he stared at it. His old friend Elinah Nailow, a knight of Torm happened to pass by the Hill at that time, and she stopped when she saw the distraught looks on Rick and Sam's faces. The Chieftain explained the situation to her, and bluntly stated he thought Krig was lying. Both Sam and Elinah were skeptical of the idea that such a devout priest of Tempus as Krig would simply lie to defend his fellow militiaman, but Rick didn't put it below the militia of Norwick to do such a thing, especially if he was involved. Elinah began to ask Rick about the green sash in his hands, and an idea came to Rick.

    "Who 'ere knows how scryin' works?" He asked. He looked around, and received no answer. "I'm takin' this ta Daisy an' I'm goin' to get it scryed. It's worked in the past, maybe we can get somethin' now." He stated, and soon he, Elinah, and Sam were on their way to Peltarch.

    Sadly, the results of the scrying were just as inconclusive as the feeble interrogation at Norwick. All Daisy was able to reveal to them was a picture of an old gravestone behind some tall grasses. Daisy suspected that perhaps the gravestone was five years or older. Sam and Rick groaned and trudged heavily out of the Temple. Sam thought it best to seek another Paladin's opinion on the entire matter, and Elinah had business to attend to in the city. Defeated, Rick slowly walked south to his beloved Aaimie who lay waiting for him in their room in Jiyyd that night.**_

  • ?

    **Fall

    "You are my sunshine
    My only sunshine
    You make me happy
    When skies are grey
    You'll never know dear
    How much I love you
    So please don't take my sunshine away"

    Rick couldn't sleep.

    Again, and again the vicious nightmare of a scene played in his head. Every time the arrow reached her before he could. Every time his fingers fumbled and struggled to rip open the medical kit and apply the herbs and bandages to slow the flow of blood rushing out of her wounds. Every time he stumbled over the eviscerated goblin at his feet, slipping on the blood on the ground, unable to reach the goblin that had dug his sword through her armor into her flesh, ripping tendons and shattering bones in her body. Every time he watched her crawl on the ground, weakly shouting for help before the arrow sliced through her neck, the shouts cutting off almost instantly. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his failure again and again and again.

    It had started out as a simple walk. They were tired of "the usual" that they did whenever they had some free time. "The usual" consisted of searching around for some copper to squeeze from long exhausted veins in the cave in Jiyyd, and the goblin infested Rawlinswood. After that they would head to Peltarch and smelt any ore they had found, which was followed by a visit to Sam's Hill. They wanted to do something different tonight though, and decided to head south to crack the heads of the goblins that resided in the southern woods of the Rawlinswood instead. Rick watched her as they walked. It may have been a simple stroll through the Nars Pass, but this woman amazed him. She had come from Silverymoon with absolutely nothing, and turned herself into something without any regret of leaving behind everything she knew. She walked with such confidence, strung her bow with skill, and wore her jet-black armor with pride and a bright smile on her face that could make anyone gloomy around her suddenly happy. Rick realized then that not only was he walking with such a woman, he was marrying her too. He knew he was blessed.

    On the way there, Rick smiled and sang, very quietly in her ear, an old children's song but one with a simple message. He gazed into her eyes as he sang to her, "Ye'll ne'er know dear…how much I love you, so please don't take my sunshine away." As he finished the song, they stopped walking and shared a tender, loving kiss that explained and showed their love for each other that a song could only dream of.

    They headed south, hand-in-hand, ready for something different tonight. It started out going fairly well. Aaimie shot down what goblins Rick's sword had yet to split in half, and they were enjoying the sport together and each other's company. A goblin here and there was able to get in a lucky shot, but nothing serious.

    Until it happened.

    They spotted a group of goblins - a mace-bearing soldier and three archers. Rick surveyed the scene and charged towards the goblin he thought he saw eyeing Aaimie and setting up a shot, bringing his sword down upon the creature with no mercy. The soldier quickly charged forth to aid his friend, and both were cut down. Suddenly, Rick heard Aaimie yelp in pain as the assassin leaped out and drove his blades deep into her back, ripping and gnawing at her body. The other two archers snickered and joined their brother and launched a volley of arrows at Rick's beloved, a few making contact with her shoulder, another sinking deep into her knee. Rick began to charge for the assassin who was again trying to wrench his swords into her back, and slipped on the bloody grass, filled with the remains of the goblins he had already taken down. Aaimie ran towards him with pain in her eyes as he jumped up. Rick's blade swung at the assassin, but the goblins had already picked their prey for the night. One of the archers lined up his shot and made contact, sending Aaimie spinning to the ground, yelling and screaming in agony. Rick whirled around and fished out his medical kit, ignoring the goblin assassin who was now trying to dig his blades into Rick's reinforced metal plate with little success. His hands, shaking from the sound of his soul mate in agony, and slippery with the blood of his foes, he fumbled and finally ripped open the bandage pack. He looked up, still running for Aaimie as she crawled on the ground, her blood running far too freely. Her eyes met his and she cried for him, her hand outstretched towards him. He was too slow. The second archer had lined up his shot, and his arrow zoomed by Rick at Aaimie. The arrow slashed through Aaimie's neck, sending a spray of blood over the area as her cries were suddenly cut short, and silence filled the area, save for the goblins snickering and readying their bows to see if they could take out the stunned Chieftain.

    He couldn't recall the rest of the fight, or how he even made it to Jiyyd. He didn't know a few of the goblins had actually gotten a few lucky hits on him, but he didn't care. He had failed. Again. He had failed this wonderful woman more times than he wished to think about or acknowledge. And now she had died in front of his eyes to mere goblins. Goblins! He couldn't even protect someone from goblins! He had missed the trap! He hadn't seen the setup! And now he paid for it, his fiancée lifeless in his arms as he carried her through the Nars in the dead of night back to Jiyyd, sobbing quietly behind his bloodstained helmet. He reached Jiyyd and stumbled through the gates. The town was quiet, and he made his way to Vroka, who looked at him, shocked to see him in such a state. She saw who was on his shoulders and her eyes went wide. Rick dug in his pockets and thrust some amount of gold at her. Apparently it was enough, though Rick hadn't bothered to count. She began the chants and prayers, and Aaimie began to stir.

    They embraced as she regained her senses and saw him sitting there next to her. Some time later he carried her to the inn and up to their room so she could rest and let the rest of the healing process take place. Throughout the night, Rick sat by her, changing her bandages often and comforting her when she awoke in pain. The night passed slowly, and his treatment helped. By morning she was walking, smiling brightly, and singing for him. She took out her lyre as the sun rose over Jiyyd, and frowned as she tried to play a song, but realized she could remember only very little of it. Although she waved away Rick's apologies and kissed him and told him she was fine, he felt guilty, and knew he was at fault for what had happened. He knew why she couldn't remember those songs, and knew he was responsible.

    But she shrugged it off and sang for him a reassuring tune, that even though she had been knocked down and tossed around she got back up. She was alive, and that was what mattered. She smiled at him, gave him another tender kiss, leaning into his grasp and they decided to take a simple walk to Peltarch.

    As he crawled into bed next to her that night, she was resting peacefully, and a smile was on her face as it always had been. He closed his eyes; his arms around her, her head resting against his chest, and again the nightmare began to play in his head.**

  • ?

    OOC: This story has nothing to do with Rick, rather this is the story behind the Swift's emblem: A Wolf's head behind two crossed blades.
    –-------

    After a long, hard day's work of chores, all the children always grew excited as they gathered around the bonfire at night just after dinner to hear one of Grandma's exciting tales. Every night, the children ventured into a great dragon's lair, or the horrifying crypts of a vampire; sometimes they charged forth with the greatest heroes of Swift on the battlefield. Eagerly, they took their seats in a semi-circle around the old, smiling woman and looked up at her with respect, waiting for her tale.

    "What are you gonna tell us tonight grandma?" Asked one child.

    "Children, I have a special tale for you this evening. I am going to share with you one of our greatest and oldest legends, the story of Koth the Great Wolf and Companion of the first Chieftain, Rogan," the old woman began. Excited faces and wide eyes looked up at her as she told the story.

    **Koth the Great

    _Centuries ago, the land was a much different place. The great Yuir was filled with mysteries and much was unknown. Our great Chieftain, Rogan, would often hunt in the Yuirwood with his pet wolf, Koth. Koth and Rogan traveled and fought together everywhere, and on every battlefield. The bond they shared was no less than that of a Druid's connection to his own companion. Koth was an enormous wolf with razor-sharp teeth, claws that could kill a man with a single swipe, and legs powerful enough to carry him across the plains, racing the winds and taunting them. His fur coat was a shade of deep grey except for his two front paws; his left paw was a deep black, his right paw a bright white.

    On one of their frequent hunts into the Great Forest, Rogan and Koth encountered a terrible, vicious beast that towered over them. The horror stood as tall as the trees and lashed out at them with limbs like branches and talons that could have pierced through the strongest steel plates of armor. It glared down at them with the fiery eyes of a demon, and threatened to crush them like bugs. Koth snarled and charged the monstrosity as Rogan, in an instant, tossed his bow aside, unstrapped his axe and leaped forward, welcoming the challenge from the demon. They battled for hours; sparks flew as talons rushed and met the beautiful axe Rogan so skillfully swung with his powerful arms. Time and again, Koth lunged forward and clawed deep into the beast's legs. The ground began to grow slippery with blood, and although he knew his vision was dim, he fought on. Claws flashed before Rogan's eyes, and suddenly there was a terrible burning sensation in his knees. He barely had time to recover before the claws again flashed in his vision, and he fell to the ground; his breath became shallow, as his chest was ripped open. The creature had delivered a terrible blow.

    As the demon moved to drive his talons through Rogan's chest, Koth leaped into the air to stop it from killing his friend and master. The talons did not reach Rogan, and as they pierced through the wolf's heart, he let out a great howl. Not of pain, but of joy and pride and faith in his master. Koth knew that this battle would be won, and sacrificed himself for his master. His pride in Rogan was carried out through his howl, stunning and crushing the great beast.

    When Rogan awoke, there was no pain. His axe lay nearby, and everything was covered in a quiet coat of crimson blood. The creature lay dead a few feet in front of him, and Koth's body was nowhere to be seen, save two of his greatest claws from each of his forelegs. The claws were the same hue as Koth's paws: One obsidian, the other pearly white. Koth, however, was nowhere to be found.

    It is said that Koth returns whenever the Chieftain or the Clan itself is in great peril, and aids the warriors as much he can on the battlefield, and then disappears again. The legend says, children, that the two swords, Kamanatuq and Ma'heono, or Honor and Spirit, are Koth's claws._

    All the children, sitting up straight and wide-eyed, staring at the old woman began to ask their usual slew of questions, exciting and craving more.

    "What happened to Rogan?"
    "Did Koth come back?"
    "Where are the swords now?"

    She merely smiled kindly at them and chuckled quietly to herself, happy to see such energetic children in her old age.

    "Those questions, my children, will be answered another night."**


  • @c5f9899ada=Vengeance:

    Well…Rick isn't trying to bone Isaac and Ilthoran...why would he care about them 😛

    I'm going with this.

  • ?

    @b4a57845ff:

    Hey Rick…where's the part about Ilth bravely volunteering to head right into the middle of the city? ))

    ((You mean Ilthoran scampering away like a scaredy-cat and avoiding the real battle after those orcs attacked? Even the old bald coward mage stayed (albeit hiding behind a rock) 😛

    I know Isaac and Ilth did not get mentioned too much. Both played a tremendous role in the quest. But, I wrote the story from a different point of view which did not include much of their activity in the quest. Also, if I had included every single tiny detail of the quest, it would be a boring, annoying story to read. :P))

  • S

    Bravo!

    I miss all the fun adventures 😞

    Nice setup to go back for the axe again :).

  • ?

    ((@1f0ee0cda9:

    Isaac and Ilthoran don't get any mention, though?

    Well…Rick isn't trying to bone Isaac and Ilthoran...why would he care about them 😛

    Hey Rick...where's the part about Ilth bravely volunteering to head right into the middle of the city? 😉 ))

  • ?

    ((Well, I also forgot Demi's greatest line: "Erm… mister Minotaur?" 😛 I went into the major parts that effected Rick; the story is already 1500+ words, so..

    And, as for Isaac hiding under a rock, I figured we should steer clear that Rick brought along a cowardly, old, bald mage to help him 😛

    Thanks to all who participated in this quest, I hope you all had as much fun as I did. Special thanks to Shane and Emerwyn for all their hard work in DMing the entre event. ^_^))


  • (( Yeah Rick you forgot Isaac's greatest emote of the entire event! " tries to look like he's guarding their rear, but is actually hiding behind a rock " >_< ))


  • @e4dfcc511f=RicktheSwift:

    dazzling spectacles of magic blasted enemies

    ((I don't deserve this quote, I was just hiding behind rocks the whole time. 😉

    This was a genuinely fun trip and a well written story, Rick. I'm sure everyone would pick this one over Isaac's summary of the events.))


  • (( The pink hair has a name too, you know… You also forgot to mention her brave approach towards Mister Minotaur (axe sold seperately) -- But I guess Demi's not the tale's protagonist, so I can live with it ^^ Isaac and Ilthoran don't get any mention, though? o_o ))

  • ?

    **_The Return

    Friends had been contacted, glory was promised, and an old group of friends would work together once again. Rick thought back on his trip back to Narfell, and once again seeing all his old buddies, reflecting on good times long passed, discussing problems of late, and meeting the new folks who had made their way to this land. He had only planned on staying for perhaps a month before heading back, but time dragged on and he could not leave Narfell to return to the front. He found himself defending his beloved Jiyyd from Thay, from Orcs; he found himself dealing with the Temple of Helm, all while a flash of pinkish hair danced and twirled around in his mind. The Thayans had attacked, and he saved that pinkish hair from death. The Orcs attacked, and he fired arrows into their lines alongside the strawberry-haired girl. He found the Temple door locked with strange runes, and his thoughts turned to worrying for the safety of those beautiful eyes with three black streaks running down the left cheek below the eye.

    The time came, and they left for the Tribe lands. The pink hair was again by his side, as it had been for so many years. How many adventures had they fought together? He didn't know; the number was too large to count these days. They traveled through the lands and reached Aglarond, and grew close to the Tribe lands, only to be assaulted by local brigands. Rick and his friends were battered and beaten, but the assault was pushed back, and what marauders remained retreated, bloody and broken, licking their wounds. They trudged on, and took refuge with a local group of wandering merchants, bartering for a few items and purchasing a few others. Suddenly, Orcs charged forth from nearby bushes, and again Rick found himself fighting alongside the pink hair.

    They reached the Tribe lands. A dark cloud hovered over the area Rick used to know as home, and as they entered the familiar gates, he froze. He could not will his legs to move; his strength had been sapped out of him by what he saw. He recognized the perverted faces, mutilated by whatever killed them in their final battle. He recognized their armor clinging to their pale, dried bodies shattered by distant swords and maces in a now-ended battle. He saw his former brother- and sister-warriors, now mere shells of the proud men and women they once were, wandering aimlessly as zombies. A warrior spotted the Chieftain, alerted the others with a groan, and the horde began shuffling towards Rick, Isaac, and the pink hair that now stood out like a shining beacon in the darkness and corruption of the land around them.
    "Kill them," were the only solemn words uttered in a monotone voice that left his lips for hours as he cut down his family and let their spirits finally begin their eternal rest. The bodies began to pile up around the Chieftain, and as the battle waned and silence overcame the area again, his sword clattered to the ground and he collapsed to his knees and looked around him.

    Gone.

    Everything was gone. His family was gone. His clan was gone. His son had been murdered. All of it was gone.

    Silently, he cleaved through the zombie warriors, trying not to get a glimpse of their shattered faces, praying he wouldn't recognize any of them. He knew each warrior that fell to his blade. They came upon his old house and entered and were met with more zombies. Rick cut them down without a word, and they trudged upstairs. He had to know; he had to give his brother-warriors their earned rest and freedom from undeath. The door to his old room flew open and a mummified figure stumbled out and staggered towards Rick. The pink hair charged forth with a sword and swung in a high, wide arc. The wrappings around the mummy's face fell away, and Rick saw who it was. He couldn't raise his blade against him. He couldn't fight his own brother like this. He stood frozen in shock, unable to strike the mummy. Another sword hacked away at the figure until it collapsed into a pile of wrappings on the floor, silent.

    "I can't do this anymore. Let's go."

    They trudged on, the pink hair walking by his side. They battled through the southern woods and stumbled upon a tower, hot on the trail of tracks that led from the desecrated Tribe lands. Rick, Isaac, and the Bard fought off wave after wave of the attacking soldiers; arrows flew between the trees towering above them from both sides. Soldiers were cut down as quickly as they were replaced, and the three dove inside the tower's entrance, only to be met by guards, Orcs, and traps. Nimble, delicate fingers disarmed dangerous traps, dazzling spectacles of magic blasted enemies; beautiful blades swung in quick and calculated arcs that sent blood splattering across the walls. The three tore through the ranks of their enemies like wildfire through a parched and dry forest, only to be stopped for but a moment by the enormous Machine guarding the room that held the answers to their questions. A few quick words, a small chase, and a bit of digging around for a password, they passed by the great guard unscathed. Inside, they found the man who held the answers they sought: Tibaut, the leader of Ingbal's Arm.

    Tibaut.

    The man responsible for everything. Rick stared into the man's dark eyes with intense, burning hatred. Tibaut looked back at Rick with almost an air of arrogance about him, mocking the clanless Chieftain. He sat casually in his throne, a glass of wine held loosely in one hand, his other hand stroking his beautiful, tamed lion Jargolithax who purred contently at the attention. Jargolithax noticed Rick and the others and emitted a low growl.

    _"Why? Why all of this?"
    "Land, of course."

    "I own all your land now! Look around you!"
    "Owned, Rick. You owned all my land, now look around."

    "This is all over a false accusation of farking raiding caravans ye bastard!"
    "So you thought. Consider it revenge, Chieftain. Your father killed mine years ago, now I have repaid the favor!"_

    Fuming, Rick threatened the man who took everything from him. He screamed, he shouted, he swore. The guard resting casually near Tibaut suddenly walked forward, and Rick noticed a familiar axe resting quietly on the man's shoulder. A familiar glow about the gorgeous blades, a beautiful rune carved into an ornate gem on the handle, Rick recognized the axe as his own. The Chieftain Axe. Rick emitted a quiet growl at the sight, feral rage quickly spreading through him as he saw the legacy of his clan be mocked by this abomination.

    "Oh that? Your brother was a bit stubborn in giving it up. Here's an idea! Why don't you duel for it? Yes, duel for your own axe."

    Rick could recall little of the duel, the pain, both physically and emotionally overwhelmed him as the axe that had served so many of his family cut deep into his flesh, breaking through his plated armor like wet paper. He could not recall if the duel ended before or after the lion's teeth sunk into his flesh; he could not remember how long he sat in emptiness.

    The Chieftain had failed. The Clan was not avenged. Swift had fallen. What remained was dead, or enslaved and bound after death. Honor was not upheld. Tibaut had won. Rick had failed.

    Rick awoke to find himself in Jiyyd once more with pink hair, familiar eyes, and a charming smile standing over him. Again the pink hair was there, just as it always had been. Weakly and unsure of himself, he struggled into the clothes handed to him, and collapsed on the floor. Slowly, the battle came back to him, and it played over and over in his mind.

    "I have failed. I have no honor."

    Rick couldn't see the pink hair, but her words reached him in that sweet, uplifting voice of hers:

    "Oh please. You have no honor? You went out there, fought Orcs, fought bandits, fought undead. You fought enemy soldiers, you dueled for your clan's axe, you fought a lion and out-smarted a war machine. Yet even after this you were asked to forge on, injured and tired, to keep fighting against a foe who was fully rested and relaxed. And you tell me you have no honor."

    Slowly, Rick tilted his head and looked at her. Tired, worn, and hurt, she sat slumped against the wall with torn clothing and ripped bandages. Her hair was a mess, her skin was dirtied with dried blood and dirt, and her pack was tossed aside. Yet, through all that, Rick was amazed at how beautiful she was. The pink hair, albeit dirty, messy, and bloody, was still there. An odd aura surrounded her; Rick couldn't quite understand what he thought he saw, but there was something about her. He smiled, scooted across the floor, sat up, and wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

    The Clan was gone, but would be avenged. The Chieftain remained, broken, but willing. Swift lived on in one man. Swift would be avenged. Tibaut would fall. Life continued on, the world continued to change.

    But the pink hair was still there, just as it always had been._**

  • ?

    Weeks had passed since the first raid. The Swift Clan tore through the ranks of Ingbal’s finest soldiers. Rick’s brother- and sister-warriors never fell or faltered. Ingbal’s Arm had wanted war, and that is what they received. Their camp now sat on the outskirts of the city of Ingbal’s Arm itself, resting half a league to the north. Rick knew he was close to the end. Rick knew he was triumphant. His scouts had reported no activity around the city. His infiltrators had not yet returned, but based on what information he had, he knew they were lying in wait behind their protective stone walls. They were going to make their last stand.

    Night fell, and he slipped inside the walls of the Swift Clan’s grounds while the guards were changing shifts. No one noticed the faint movement in the shadows, slowly creeping towards the Chieftain’s Tent. Inside the tent slept Rick’s infant child with his favorite doll tucked under his arm. His caretaker slept in the room next to him. The man slipped inside the tent undetected and began his search.

    They had not expected the child, but when Alexis gave birth to Rick’s first son, a surge of pride like none other he felt before rushed through Rick. He was a father. He loved his son from the first time he saw him, and knew that he would grow up to become a Chieftain, just like his father. Rick thought about traveling back to his old home of Narfell, with his son in his arms or tagging along behind him if he was old enough. Rick pictured his son leading the tribe to great prosperity. He wondered what his friends “back home” would think when they saw a Little Rick behind the great Chieftain. His smile grew wider and he kissed Alexis on that proud day.

    The man began looking through the tent trying to find the great Chieftain resting peacefully. He had been sent to get revenge for the attack on Rowandale. Silently he glided from room to room through the enormous tent and came upon Rick’s son resting peacefully in his tiny bed. He smirked behind his dark mask and hood and unsheathed the dagger on his belt.

    Alexis had made the small doll herself and grinned as her son’s eyes lit up at the small toy and reached for it. She handed it to him and he began to giggle and play with the doll. It soon became his favorite, and all his other toys (except for his wooden miniature battleaxe of course) fell into disuse. He carried the doll everywhere he went, tucked lovingly under his arm. The ragged doll traveled everywhere, Alexis had to wash it as much as she did her son. She patched it up numerous times; somehow, the same arm was torn off repeatedly. She smiled each time he brought it back to her, tears running down his cheeks. When she handed it back to him, as good as new, his eyes lit up and he hugged his mother and ran off to play with the doll and the other children in the clan.

    The man’s blade shined in the light of the torch from the hallway of the enormous tent as he lifted it above the sleeping child’s neck and brought it down in one swift, single motion that separated head from body; the child’s blood began to stain the sheets as he began his eternal rest, his doll covered in the red liquid. The man grabbed a small box off the shelf, emptied its contents and grabbed the child’s head and stuffed it inside. He smirked at the doll and tossed it in the box next to the head. The man scribbled a note on a sheet of paper and tossed it on the lifeless body. “Surrender, Barbarian.”

    A package from the homelands arrived the next day for Rick. He tore off the wrapping around it and opened the lid and screamed. Alexis ran over, looked inside the box cried. “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” She screamed over and over, a stream of tears running down her face. Others ran over to see what the commotion was. Faces hardened as they saw Rick’s child. Axes were sharpened.

    The siege of Ingbal’s Arm began the next day.