3. Journal of Shane Andryl

Journal of Shane Andryl

  • S

    Down the well again: The Venture into the Crypts

    "This passage was cleared!" "It must have collapsed again .. or… more.." Whatever had happened, the results were obvious. Rock upon rock once again blocked the hallway that Ayanie had cleared before. The tremors caused by the well must have caused it to collapse further. For a moment, all watched, trying to see a way through. "We've got dwarves.. and they've got picks." With a nod, the Dwarves set to work, inspecting the cave-in for a moment, then picking themselves a way through. Slowly, but surely, with a skill and eye that only Dwarves could master, a path was cleared for all to pass through.

    "Spies" As the Dwarves toiled, Vino's voice called through the stairway. Quickly, the knight rushed up, followed by Kanen and Uthger. The path up to here had been quiet, too quiet even to their liking. "Adam was here and someone else." For a moment, the four looked around the hallway, searching for any signs of intrusion behind them. But whoever was there, they did not feel like showing themselves. Unasked questions became apparent as each wondered what the reasons for this intrusions would prove to be. "Well should we continue?" "No wasting time in it. Let's move on." Without a further word, they descended down again, this time not letting guard to the rear fail. They were warned, someone was behind them. Whether the reasons would prove to be friendly or not was yet to be learned.

    "I'm stuck! Darn me eat te much before going." Balin's face contorted to a frown as he found himself stuck in the small opening between the rocks and the wooden frame of the doorway. With a loud cry, Galnin rushed forth, charging with his full weight against his kin. Both dwarves tumbled through the opening with a loud thud. The others shook their heads, uncertain of whether to laugh or not at the sight before them. Yet the seriousness of what was to come weighed to heavy on all of them, and even a brief smile was hardly shared as they quickly set to work again, widening the passage to allow the others through.

    "Be watchful now…. this has gone all too easy already." The knight did not like the silence at all. Perhaps they had cleansed the area better than they had hoped for the last time the crypts had been breached. Yet reason alone dictated vigilance. What was dead before could surely rise again and find itself in their way. "Aye tis is whar it started ta get ruff" Belthor rubbed his head a moment, his face covered in dust from the rockslide that had fallen on the Dwarves' heads just before. Kanen looked at them, concern growing. "What did you encounter?" "Remnants, Devourers… " "All them undead ya can think of" For a moment, the group halted, listening. "Keep an eye open for a place we can bar the way." Janu was right enough. If the dangers from before would find their way towards them again, they would need to know where they could make a stand. The survival of all depended on them acting as one, staying close together. "We maybe scare them…if I was a undead I would hide frem us." Balin's logic was as simple as his way of life had been, straightforward. As long as nothing was there, it was allright. If something crossed their paths, it would fall. Simple.

    "Te fark!" Once again, the bars blocked their path, the damage done to them before clearly having been repaired. It was a clear sign that vigilance was needed now. They were not alone in these crypts, and whomever was here as well had seen to it that the path was once again obstructed. "I keep hearing…things." Kanen's warning was well placed. They were still being followed. Quickly, a few ropes were taken out as one by one the group climbed the grates to the other side.

    "Why in Helm's name was this place even built?" "Evil…" "Nothing but evil indeed." They stood in the darkened hallway, Bacelar and Uthger guarding their rear, as Linah went ahead again to scout the path in front. More than once, her keen eyes and experience saw the traps covered the long, dark halls. With skill and determination, each of them were either disabled or removed completely. "This way?" Quietly, she peeked around the corner a moment, making certain it was safe. "I remember left." The knight's voice was calm, emotionless. With a slight nod, the scout set forth on her path again.

    "Ye allright Kanen?" The paladin stood still for a moment, looking into the darkness of the hallway to their right, an unknown path that was to be behind them. "I'm fine…just wondering what is down that passage." "Darkness...I doubt curiosity is gud here." "And nae ale" Slowly but surely, tension began to rise in the group as they came near to the end of the first part of their journey. Soon, they would lower themselves down to the caves underneath. No spells nor prayers would be their aid from that point on.

    "We're still being followed." Janu's voice was hushed, but still loud enough for all to hear. "Are you sure?" "Positive. Three at least. I don't like the idea to be boxed in if we are in for a battle." All tensed. They were already getting far, and with each moment, the threat of battle grew more real. Being boxed in was not an option. "Shane, will you see who it is? I can give you the true sight." The knight nodded at Vino. The time had come to learn just how many were behind them, and whether they were friend or foe.

    "Hello Adam" The bard startled, clearly surprised that he had been caught. "What in Helm's name are you doing?" The knight stepped forth a few paces, clearly noticing both Vilmar and Kharbeh in the distance as well, as the others grouped around Adam. For a moment, she called out to them both, yet both were unwilling to draw near. At least it was known now how many were behind them. Now, all that remained were the reasons. If they were ill intent, it was to no avail to pursue them now. With a shrug, she turned again towards the group, and Adam.

    "Sleepwalking again. I told that old brewer that I needed something better. You know…me just waking up and all" The bard's excuses were as hollow as his steps had been. Yet there was no time to deal with them now, they had to venture forth. Adam was taken along with them, so at least they would be able to keep an eye on him. "And…um, can I ask why you have two Drow with you?" Everyone muttered at the questions posed. Aye, of course it was natural to wonder why two Drow were in this company, guarded by two paladins even. But they were close to Drow territory now, and any could overhear them if they were near. For a moment, the knight was thankful for the gift of True Sight bestowed. Any Drow near in hiding would be revealed as well. Quickly, in lowered voices and few words, Braeth explained the reasons to him. "I really gotta know who does his makeup." Still, the old bard did not seem to grasp the seriousness of the matters at hand.

    "Shane I fear we may have ta turn back wit them followin' like that. Kharbeh goes into a rage seein' Drow." Belthor's concerns were genuine, and reasonable now the knight had learned what had occurred before. "They were just here to escort me. I thought I could follow you." Finally, the bard spoke more truly on his reasons for being there to begin with. "If the fools that follow us see me and Braeth they might as well kill us… " The Drow that was Zak was all too concerned. This was not needed. Both himself and Braeth would already be walking straight into a death trap. "If Kharbeh cannot discipline her self tie her and leave her." Vino looked upon it as calmly as ever. The two that still refused to show themselves in the open could not be allowed to endanger the mission. The knight looked at Bacelar for a moment, then made the decision on how to act. "Stay behind, and keep your eyes open. With that, they pushed on, this time with Adam amongst them. Bacelar guarded the rear, Uthger, Janu and herself close by.

    "Wait. This leads down to the caves. We should rest while we still can. There is no possibility to it anymore from here." With that, the group settled. They had made it this far. From this point on, there would be no more return. As they rested, ate and prayed for the last time, each considered the options for a final time. Still, the two that followed refused to join them, so as few words as possible were spoken in regards to the mission. From here on, they would survive only through discipline, skill, and their ability to act as a group. No more mistakes could be allowed.

  • S

    Down the well again - Prelude

    "May I introduce Braeth and Zak, the Drow." The Keeper's voice broke the murmurs that were abundant in the halls of Spellweaver Keep. All gathered fell silent a moment as she and Ka'ell returned to the hall, followed by both called for. The expected faces, Zak's over-eager smile and Braeth's serious smirks, they were gone. The two that entered in no way resembled the friends and allies of old. These two were none more but Drow.

    "I suggest you become used to the sight. It is not certain that this change can be undone." The Keeper's warning was ominous. The ritual that had altered their form had been stressful enough, and there had been little time for research to it. This was not merely a wizard's way of changing form for a moment. No magics would be able to dispel the casting or detect that castings were in work. These two were real, flesh and blood Drow. Those gathered were lost for words for a moment. Perhaps they hadn't realized the extent of what was to happen, had not fully comprehended what was to pass. But now they did all too well.

    "By Helm… I pray this can be undone afterwards as well." The knight's words broke the silence again, releasing faint murmurs from the others as well. The two were all too well aware of the content. "I hope so too…. Shane" The Drow that was Braeth looked upon them weary, but confident. "I guess you should all try to remember our faces." Zak's words were all too true. In the darkness of the depths beyond, they would easily be mistaken if it came to battle. They would all need to be extra careful, lest good friends might be mistaken for the enemy they were too face. Allready, Galnin was biting his lips, reminding himself that the two before them were not Drow after all, but merely a resemblance of the hated foe. Ilphrae and Xundrin. They would need to remember the names well, and refrain from calling their friends by their true name. Soon, Braeth and Zak were to be no more.

    The plan had been simple, but daring none the less. At first, the knight had spoken with Belthor and Myell, bent on learning what mistakes had caused the first group to fail. Soon, they would need to venture down again, and see those that remained back to safety. Not a moment had passed when the thought had not crossed her mind, when she hadn't cursed the events that had occurred. Yet there had been no other way, and now the plan was made to return them from the clutches of the Drow.

    The Keeper's insights had been useful, allowing a glance on the situation, a reason as to why exactly the Drow had wanted Rith. The Orb, an ominous device of which both lie and truth was known, the power to shape the world into chaos… They could be after none other than that. The first part of the plan was forged, to offer the Drow what they wanted: the Orb would be theirs in exchange for the captives. Zak had come to her a few days after, providing the solution as to how the Drow would receive the exchange. Himself and Braeth would allow themselves to become part of a transforming ritual, allowing them the shapes of Drow. They would go into the Drow's own lands, and barter for the lives of those enslaved. The knight herself, Belthor, and a few select others, all known for their wits in battle and their ability to keep their calmth and silence, would venture along to lead them down, and safeguard their retreat. The Keep would try and create magical rings, allowing understanding and speech of the Drow tongue. Slowly, but surely, the plan came to life.

    The knight cast a final glance around the room before they ventured forth. Many had rallied to the cause, all bent on the same goal. Belthor, Balin, Galnin... the Dwarves would prove once again to be a fearsome ally in this cause, and their knowledge of the underground depths could be useful. Uthger stood quietly by, his axe ready to fight their way through, as long as there was a fight to share. Then Linah, for this woman the knight could feel none but respect. Although she had faced the terrors of the Drow first handed, she had set aside her fears and agreed to join them. Her experience as a scout would be vital to all their survival. Vino was standing right at her side, worried for her safety, ready to join them as well. His aid had been crucial to their success, his knowledge having been the key in creating the bargain tool they were in dire need off: the Orb, a fake replica, imbued by magic to allow it to pass magical detections, now in Zak's, or rather Ilphrae's hands. Her word to him would remain true, given on her own honor, that Linah would not be abandoned there. The knight would be the last to leave. Then the Mystran priestess Amissa Lee and the Tempurian Janu, they too could not a see friend and one of their own left behind, and were ready to join. Kanen stood quietly behind them, focused and ready once again. Bacelar had joined them just in time, bent as well on correcting the previous mistakes.

    And then the gnome, Namfoodle Ningel... his part was as crucial as the others, and his courage to be admired. He would serve as slave to Zak and Braeth, an extra means to elude the questions that would arise once the Drow were met. Each for his own dealt with the last moments at the Keep to prepare, as prayers were lifted upwards. They were ready to depart.

  • S

    The End of the Black Hand

    Helm's halls were silent as the paladin entered. It was late at night, and the acolytes had no doubt already turned to their bunks. It was the perfect time to seek prayer without any disturbances, a moment for the knight to relax, to set aside her troubles. Quietly, she walked her way to the altar in front. Then, she stopped. Rubble… Someone had left garbage in front of it. "Sir Eram should keep his trainees more in check. This is certainly uncalled for." With that thought and deep sigh, the knight took hold of it, seeing it disposed.
    The knight had not taken notice of the temple doors. The halls were open to all. Perhaps someone had taken the same thought as herself to find a moment's silence here. Then, all turned black. Instantly the knight was alerted, drawing her sword in guard. The Black Hand's calling card… The knight steeled herself, concentrated on her surroundings, listened to any movement. Soon, she would feel a knife in the back no doubt. They had tried their hand at her husband before. Now, surely they would attempt to end hers.

    The expected blow did not come. The darkness lifted again a few moments later, and the knight found herself face to face with one of the Hand's lackeys, a blood-stained morningstar well in hand. Calmly, she beheld him, curious as to what scheme the Hand had in store for her this time. They wanted something else, or they would not send a lone dog to do their bidding. He was no match for her, and the Hand had learned that well before.

    "I am only here at the bidding of my master to deliver you a note. My master grows impatient and wishes to end this dance with your Paladin group this day…" Keeping a certain distance, the man threw down a piece of parchment before her. The knight took hold of it, keeping her guard up. The fool might still become anxious to earn a name. "Feel yourself lucky to be in Helm's halls, fool. What's this message?" Her warning was clear enough to him. It was only because she did not wish for any bloodshed on sacred ground that she allowed the conversation to be. It would not be his moment to attempt and strike here. She was ready for it. While she read the message, the man tried to throw an insult at her, asking her if this was the way guests were treated in His halls. The paladin remained calm. Obviously the man knew all too well he was outmatched, and relied on her own honor for his life in his task. To attempt such a taunt was no more than a way to hide his fears from her. "The Black Hand is not a guest in Helm's temple."

    "Bring the ruby to the wizard's tower in Ormphur or Johan dies."

    Her heart stopped. The message delivered by this dog was clear enough. Johan, Jiyyd's "Master Errant Runner" and "Hero Supreme", "Slayer of the Giants". The joyful hin was in their hands. Finally, they had found the weakness in the paladin's heart. "Do not let your emotions get too out of control Lady Paladin. Lives are at stake now…" The man gloated, knowing the situation was under control. The knight would not allow this hin to die at their hands. She looked upon him with a dark glare, retaining a well-trained, outward calmth. "Tell your master I will come. Touch him even once and Helm's wrath will be upon him, and upon you. Now get from my sight before I change my mind." The man smirked victorious, pulling his hood low, turning to leave again. "I shall return to my master with this glorious news, but be warned! We will kill the hin if we detect any trickery on your part." The knight scowled at the words offered. _"Helm does not need to resort to such."_Angered, steeling herself so the blade in her hand would not strike out yet, she watched him leave.

    With a bland expression, she watched the Doctor continue on his way. This had been a fortunate encounter right before the Ormphur gates. Or wasn't it? The knight was not yet convinced of his true intents, still hoped he was not the traitor she thought him to be. Yet the small vial he had offered her spoke on his behalf. He had made his precious elixir, and in thanks for her aid in gaining the required nuts before, he had come to see her and offer a small portion of it. A cold wind blew from the south as she put the vial away carefully, once more directing her attention to the tower in front. The time had come to go.

    She was ready for it, all was prepared. The gem was safe, and the guards in Jiyyd had been warned in case she would not return anymore. All that remained now was to face them, and see Johan safe. It would be tough without the ruby they requested, but at least, she would try. They were ready for her, as she had expected. Four men in Black Hand colors stood before the Tower gates, weapons drawn. Calmly, she put her blade away, not granting them a single glance. "Ah!!! Finally! The Lady Paladin!" The ruffian snickered lightly, gloating in the victory of the Hand already. The knight suppressed a smile at his overeager mistake. "I thought you Paladin types would be more prompt when a life is on the line!" She cut off his eager remarks calmly. "Your master, if you will." The man shrugged instantly, pointing the heavy mace towards the gates. "My master awaits you in there… " Without a further glance she went on, ignoring the scoundrels looks of victory or their taunting whistles. They were not worth it, yet.

    "Lady paladin! Lady paladin! I knew you would come for Johan!" She showed him a soft smile for a moment, her eyes dark at the sight. There he was, his hands wrapped around the bars of the makeshift cage. Two men of the Hand, obviously clad in their captain's uniforms, already stood in the room to await her. One of them threw a rock at the cage, bidding the hin to silence. Coldly, she turned her gaze towards both men. "I got your message. Where's your master?" One of them stepped forward, returning her glare with the coldness of an experienced killer, his mouth crooked in a victorious grin. "Hmpf! You do not look like much to me…I cannot believe that you have caused my organization so much trouble. I am Losar, Head of the Black Hand."

    Slowly, the knight nodded in reply. Here he was, finally, the one that had been causing her nothing but troubles for all these years. Kaynar Losar. She could not afford any mistakes now. This man was to be reckoned with, and the Captain behind him already bore the scars of previous encounters with her. Both were at the least a skillful opponent.

    "Now hand me the Ruby and lets be done with this. We waste too much time as it is…" His eyes spoke enough. She would die in these halls. The only thing he wanted now was to see her disgraced completely in handing their prize herself. She kept her cold gaze locked on him, her stature proud, unwavering. Soon, he would learn how wrong he was in such assumptions, but first, Johan had to be freed. "Release him first." Her command was bold, enough in showing she held no fear to them. She knew well enough what the response would be. "No….No....No...." He gloated, anxious to see his victory complete. "I am a man of my word. That should be good enough for you. Give me the Ruby and your precious little hin will go safe. But if you do not give me the Ruby, I will have Korsack bash his head in right after we bury you. Hand over the Ruby and both of you will go free."

    The lies were all apparent. She knew all too well the word of the Hand meant nothing. They would not leave this place alive. To allow her freedom would be the largest mistake the Hand had ever made. Her mind raced for options. "I am unarmed here. You are at the advantage. What have you got to loose in this? Nothing. Release him." A moment, she was alerted to Johan's fearful cry as the other, referred to as Korsack, moved in closer to the cage. "Touch him and you will die swifter than you can blink." Her tone spoke enough. Losar knew she was prepared to face death here. He himself would still need to be careful if they wanted the ruby from her. "Your words hold some truth to them. I will release that little runt, but he will not be allowed to leave this tower until you hand over the Ruby!" With a motion of his hand, Losar commanded the other to unlock the cage. Relieved, Johan sprinted forth, hiding himself behind her. The knight smiled faint. At least this much was already achieved. But they weren't safe yet.

    A snap of Losar's fingers brought her attention back to him. "I have kept my word, now keep yours. Give me the Ruby! I will not wait much longer!" He was becoming too anxious, his voice betrayed him. He was afraid that they might still loose their valuable prize. At least in that he was wise, he did not underestimate her. It made him a more troublesome opponent. Again, her mind raced, trying for every moment of time bought. "I am surprised to see that you have not yet been informed. After all, I did allow your spies to remain in hiding for you until now. You should pay them better." The man looked at her in disbelief. Her words had not been expected. Such was a good sign. He was anxious, and that was his weakness. "What do you speak of? Hand me over the Ruby NOW!!!"

    A motion of his hand commanded the door behind her to lock tightly. Time was of the essence now. He was beginning to loose his final patience. Quickly, she motioned Johan to get back, steeling herself to calmth. Her lack of fear in his presence would only unsettle him more she hoped, and that was what she wanted. "The Ruby is lost, Kainar. I have not had it with me for months now. Yet I am here as you wished. It seems rather strange to me that your spies would keep this a secret from you." Her words were met with laughter as Losar lost his grip on the situation. "Do you intend to trick me with such false words?" The knight suppressed a faint smile as she recited one of the vows to knighthood in reply. "His word shall speak only truth…." The taunt did not loose it's effect. Losar's hands clutched tightly around the handle of his morningstar. "I have had enough of this…I will search your dead body for the Ruby! And if it is not there, I will raze Jiyyd till I find it!" Almost… she thought. Almost.

    "Kill me, and you will never learn, Kainar. Never. Kill another, and my word goes forfeit." He was almost ready. His pet dog Korsack came closer as well, feeling the tension rise. Fury became all apparent in Losar's eyes as he understood the knight would not offer his prize in disgrace. Rage overtook him as he lunged out at her, ready to end her life. "Time to meet your end Lady Andryl!"

    The morningstar scathed her armour as she ducked aside, drawing her sword in response. The fight was tough, as she had expected. She was no match against these two together. Yet she had to stall, gain more time. She would need all her wits if this Losar was to meet his doom. But neither would she give them an easy challenge. Her sword drew blood at each strike, the force of her blows knocking them down more than once. Overtaken by his own rage, Losar cried out to his dark lords, calling forth their elemental powers to his aid. That was the moment she'd been waiting for. Losar's prayers were largely diminished. Surely his Lord would not grant him a blessing of such tremendous power again any time soon. The knight flinched, allowing them to strike a few blows at her. Then, when her own wounds were grave enough to show them victory, she stepped back, her sword at rest.

    "Enough…" The proud paladin stumbled back, clutching the wound at her chest. Quickly, she glanced at where Johan had ducked away in hiding, assuring herself of his safety. Losar stopped, the lust for her blood vanishing as he seemed to ackowledge her defeat. Victorious, he glared upon her. "You see…You are trapped and will surely perish if you continue such actions." The paladin took in a deep breath, not looking upon the man any longer. "Allright…" With a grin, Losar commanded his captain to retrieve the staff and gems. His lust for it's power made him forget all around. He did not even tend to his wounds, certain the knight before him had given in. For a moment, she took pity on him, for being such a weakminded fool. To his eyes, she was defeated, broken, surrendered to the Hand's mercy. It was the last mistake he would ever make.

    "Now…You will tell me where the Ruby is or die...." Again, she stalled for time. "Your word remains that the hin leaves unscathed?" Impatient, he replied affirmative. He would leave unharmed. The proud knight nodded at him, her face darkening as she sheathed her blade, her head lowered to assure him of her disgrace. "The gem I carried was lost in the swamps to Peltarch, where the lizard folk reside. It still lies there somewhere in the mud. Helm has not allowed me foresight into finding it again."

    Losar looked at her directly, knowing his opponent's bond to honor all too well. "Do you swear on the name of Helm that your words hold true?" The paladin cringed inwardly. Of course it was not true. The real Ruby was still in safety, well hidden from their eyes. Yet her words were no lie to Helm, only to the visage of the man's thoughts. The gem she had carried was lost as she had said. What he didn't know was it had been a fake. She closed her eyes in defeat. "I do. Now let him go." Her words were met with mocking laughter. "You are far too trusting Lady Andryl…I have no need for you any longer now that I know where the Ruby lays...Time to remove your pain from my side for good."

    Every instinct alerted her to it. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for. Without any further thought for himself, he lunged at her again. Yet this time he was alone, most of his prayers spent, and the knight was prepared for it. With all the strength the Helm had provided her with over the years, she commanded her own wounds healed, drawing her blade swifter than he had expected. With ferocious anger she struck home blow after blow upon him. His eyes widened in shock as he realized his mistake… Only when his lifeless corpse did not even twitch anymore did the knight halt her barrage of strikes upon him. Kainar Losar, the man that had caused them all years of hardships and pain, the one that had commanded her husband dead, that had declared war on the Order and had terrorized first Ormphur and then Jiyyd, was no more.

    "I…Is...Is it alright to come out now?" Johan's tiny voice calmed her down, and she turned to where he was hiding. "Aye Johan…it is." The little hin slowly came out of his hiding place, kicking the bloodstained remains of the former Black Hand leader. Calmly, the knight sheathed her weapon again, asking him to stop. "But…But he was sooo mean to me..." The knight smiled softly, kneeling down to him. "That doesn't mean you need to repay him in kind, Johan. He is dead. Leave him be." The hin gathered his courage, looking at her brightly. "Where you telling the truth about the Ruby to that mean man?" She avoided his question for now, instead making certain he was allright. "Come…before his dogs find out what happened. Let's leave here."

    But Johan did not come. Something was not right, the paladin knew it instantly. Instead he asked her again, offering his help to find the ruby again in the swamps. A small thought crept into the back of her mind. She had seen Johan cast strong arcane spells when he had joined them into the Giant lands. Why hadn't he helped her now? Then again, perhaps he had not had time to study either. Surely he would not have given the Hand an easy time in capturing him. And the Staff, where was it? This was not over yet… She decided to play her own hand. "I told him the truth in that the gem I carried was lost there yes. It were his own thoughts that made him think it was the real one." The hin laughed joyfully at her, slapping his knee in glee. "I always knew the Lady Paladin was a smart one! Now, why don't you tell Johan where the real Ruby is so Johan can protect it! Honest, Johan can do the job…"

    Her heart cringed in shock at the words. It couldn't be for real. For a moment she had doubted it, but the little hin had become a friend in the town she called home. She'd always been there for him, had helped him more than once when he was in need. Truth became apparent. She'd been warned that the Hand had an ally close to the Order. At the time, she had not been able to suspect him, but now… She thanked Helm inwardly for the vigilance he had always granted her, for the fact that she had kept her guard up concerning the gem to everyone, even to her own husband. Her voice turned colder as she stood again. "I can't do that Johan. I'm sorry…"

    Johan's cheerful facade turned dead cold as he stepped back, his rasp voice glamouring coldly trough the hall. With a snap of his finger the illusion that had kept him from suspicion faded, showing his blackened robes underneath. "I don't think you understand Lady Paladin. I am not asking you to. I am telling you now!" With an annoyed look, he took hold of the staff that had been the trouble of the Order all this time. With it, he prodded against her armour, then pointed to the bleeding corpse. "Do you think such a squibbling piece of trash would lead the Black Hand? Mayhaps you are not as smart as I thought. Now… His voice boomed loudly, hurting her ears. "Tell me where the Ruby is. I have lost my patience trying to find the location through more stealthy measures. You will surely die, along with Jiyyd, if you do not tell me now!" The paladin turned to ice cold calmth. "Don't you realize it yet, Johan? Haven't you learned anything? You'll never have it. Not even my death will grant it." The paladin showed him a content smile. "My work is done." The treacherous hin let go of an annoyed sigh at her words. "Are you referring to your blind allegiance to that lesser god? Mayhaps you can be convinced after I give you a small taste of Bane's true power!"

    Quickly, the knight drew forth the scroll she had been hiding behind her shield. She'd been prepared to meet with cutthroats, brawned ruffians, well trained heretics even. But this was a mage, and she knew first hand from what she'd experienced at her husband's side how devastating the Arcane could be. She would need to silence him before his incantations could complete, or the fight was already lost. But mages were strong in will, strengthened by their own studies in the Arcane. He would surely see it through and block her attempt.

    The knight had nothing to loose. Quickly, she uttered the words written on the scroll, commanding her own self to mystical silence. She would not be able to call upon Helm's strength anymore. Now, all she needed was to get close. Her eyes met his gaze as his own words of summoning ended. A magical gate erupted in front of her, summoning forth a fiend to do his bidding. A succubus!

    The paladin roared at the sight, clenching her blade tight. Then, she rushed at the hin. She could not allow this fiend to distract her. If it's master lost control, it would most likely leave again, freed from it's magical bonds. She prayed it would not lay a hand on her, knowing all too well how devastating it's embrace could be. The hin tried to keep away from her, dodging her blows in fear. But it was to no avail. Stripped from speech, he was no match for her. A few moments later, he as well lay dead.

    The knight halted, the strain of all these years finally slipping from her shoulders. The fiend, seeing it's master fallen, retreated to the shadows into it's own realms once more. The knight looked upon the traitor's lifeless body, raising her blade once again in final salute. She had won… Silently, she took hold of the staff he carried, and lifted him off the floor. With his body in hand, she stepped outside once again.

    The Black Hand dogs that had gloated over her when she had come were still on guard outside. Each fell silent, gasping for air at the sight of their vanquished master. Coldly, the paladin spoke to them, not allowing them one look. "You have one choice. Lay down those weapons and leave this place. Or follow his fate." The words were enough. One by one, they dropped their arms and fled the scene in disarray. The Black Hand was no more…

    "Thank you, Doctor… My pardons for having doubted you, but I had to know." The good doctor nodded slowly, his hurt apparent at her questioning words. She'd come to him in the dead of night, and had denied his wish to restore the hin back to life. She had explained him what had happened, and then had shown him the reason for her mistrust, questioned him. Yet his heart proved truly, and now the only thing the knight could feel was the shame of having doubted a man as kind as the Doctor. "I take it you will rather not welcome me here anymore?" The doctor showed her a compassionate look, understanding her motives. "Do not be so foolish Lady Andryl…Grace and I welcome you in this house any time of the day." She sighed in relief. It would have been a saddening fact to not be able to visit the child any longer. "Then I will love to do so… it will be pleasing to see both you and the child's smile again." Softly, she exchanged greetings with him once again, leaving him to his rest. "May Helm guard your way and home, Doctor."

    Johan's body was left in the care of the Temple. They would see to it that he would be buried on Helm's hallowed ground. The Watcher would forever watch over him, so that none would be able to call such a dark, blasphemous mind to life again. The paladin took in a deep breath as she watched over the town from up the hill. Finally, her work was indeed done.

  • S

    Well Rescue – Part 2

    "Don't remind me off it. It scares me to no end being in a place such as this and not even being able to defend myself with spells. " The knight nodded in reply to Ayanie's words. "Don't fear Ayanie….we'll see the light of day again". Once more they had halted, allowing Shyrae to find the trail again. The vast open areas made it all too difficult to stay on the right track, and the darkness around didn't make it any easier. The knight was grateful for the light Helm had granted her. At least that did still shine here. "I am a master of the rapier.." Ayanie's trollish form stood proudly at the words. The conversation had turned into a light discussion on their weapons of choice, while they awaited Shyrae's call. At least it kept the nervousness at bay. The proud paladin looked upon Ayanie in silence for a moment. The earlier discussion between the two seemed all but pointless now, the feelings of unease between them gone again. Here she was, all too fearful of the place they had entered, yet strong minded enough to continue. The knight felt sorry for her own self a moment. At least the others still had the luxury of fear, it would improve their chances of survival here.

    The thought was swiftly dismissed as Shyrae returned to them. "I hear things .. north and west …The tracks show human and Dwarf." Ayanie's trollish face snapped to the direction, her trollish body shuffling in unease. One of her claws rose up nervously to the west. "Something" The knight exchanged one glance with the Dawnbringer. "It…It's too dark .. even with the faint light I can't read the signs well." Shyrae's voice sounded troubled as well. Rith nodded lightly. "We should be careful. Here I can't use Lathander's powers, and I am not specially strong in combat." Shyrae answered with a light shrug "I'm no warrior either." Ayanie shuffled uneasy. "I really really really want to leave this place." The knight held her helmet low, looking at the troll in faint smile. "This place clouds Helm's Eye as well… it all stinks of the same taint. Try to be strong Ayanie....they all need you." The troll looked at her in unbelief. "We wouldn't have gotten here without you. You do not need to be a warrior to make a change." Rith smiled as well, checking her blade one final time. "We are a team. We do well together indeed..and we'll succeed together." That much was true. The knight was the most experienced when it came to single combat. She would need to stand infront, shielding the blows from the others. Rith, although less trained as herself, knew her way in battle well enough as well. Shyrae's bow could still be used by her with devastating precision. And Ayanie… the knight shuddered at the thought of what those claws could do to a man. They would still be allright, if they avoided battle whenever possible, and worked together. With a silent nod, they readied themselves, stepping forward in the pointed out direction again.

    "By the Heavens!" They all came to a dead halt. From the dark hallways, 2 shapes drew near, shuffling carefully, shivering, naked, unarmed. "Adam, Belthor!" Immediately, they sheathed their weapons and rushed forth to get them. They were exhausted, hungry, in a terrible shape. The group took out some spare clothes, offering them at least a bit of warmth and comfort. "What has happened? Where are the others?" Belthor sighed deeply. Both were more than relieved to see them, seeming to be at the end of their own strengths. They related of capture by Drow, and how they had been forced into slavery. Belthor and Adam had been able to escape them, but they were helpless here, unarmed and lost. It was a God's send that they had run-in to the group.

    "What are you doing here?" Another voice called out from behind them, grumbling. Instantly, the knight turned, recognizing the voice all too well. "You're alive as well….Helm be thanked!" Her husband came from the shadows towards them, weary, but apparently not having been caught as he was still in full gear. And with him was Bacelar, the young Tyrean priest that had been her brother in faith and battle for all these years. The 4 that had set out looked upon the others in relief as the knight hugged her husband closely. The Gods had been fortituous to have given them the insight of venturing down. Something bad had indeed happened to this group. They didn't even wish to think of what might have happened had they not gone forth. "Shane why are you here? It is not safe at all." Inwardly, the knight scowled suddenly at her husband's words. This was no time to become protective. There was reason enough, and they needed to move quickly. "You were gone for far too long. We came for you all. We feared something as wrong." Quickly, they offered what little spare weapons they had to Adam and Belthor. At least it would increase their chances of survival as well. "Yes…I know the way.." Adam's voice ended the questions amongst them all. They were ready for it, and the others needed to be freed from the hands of the Drow with haste. 7 or 8 were still missing. "Then show us. We need to move!"

    "Hmm…" The paladin looked around the boneyard with disgust. The trail had led the group through vast tunnels and caverns, and they had been in need of picking their fights carefully. More than once they had moved around an enemy, avoiding it rather than facing yet another battle. But still the fights had been many, and it was a surprise they had all even made it this far in good health. They had come across the camp where, according to Belthor, they had been held by the Drow. It was emptied, the trail ending at a small lake before them. The little boat behind them lay still against the rocks. It had been their means of crossing the small lake that had blocked their way. The moored boat on the other side told enough: this was where the Drow had ventured as well. The chase was still on. Yet something was different here. The ominous taint was still around, but the caverns itself looked different to.

    "Big as…. the lair of a dragon." Such it was. The bones that lay all around warned them of danger. The size of this cavern might just hold what Rith's words uttered. Yet if it was so, they would be able to feel it's presence here already. A dragon was not a beast that hid itself easily, it's presence alone was enough to make men tremble long before it was even seen, and such was not the case, yet… "Can anyone see if this dead magic is still here? A simple spell perhaps?" Rith nodded, calling upon Lathander for His light to spread around. And Lathander heard. A moment later, the cave was lit by His gloom. All let go off a deep breath in relief, as spells and prayer would be able to help them here. "I heard a cry" Shyrae's voice broke the silence. A cry…that could only mean they were near. Quickly, they all rushed forth in the direction.

    "Devourers!" The undead blocked their path beyond. Devourers, four of them, moved into Shyrae as the group drew near. Husks of bone and marrow were all around, shadows turned to life, drawn forth by the light that disturbed their rest. The rotten flesh and gnawed bones rose upwards as the evil taint around called them into existence. A moment later, the cavern trembled under the force of the spells and prayers called upon as magic soared the dank air around. The fight was fierce, and all around cries of pain could be heard as the devourers tried to gnaw their way through living flesh. It was not only a battle to hold them off, but also a fight to stay grouped and keep eachother alive as blow after blow led one another away from the rest.

    "Drow!" Bottesini's warning snapped everyone to attention as the last of the undead found it's way into Oblivion. They could clearly hear it now, mortal cries of pain and death as another battle was taking place beyond. "By Helm they are slaughtering them!" The team stood nailed to the ground for a second, looking for a way to get through. Adam lay behind them, dead. They had not been able to reach him in time. And now… "Let's go!" Without a further thought the knight rushed forward, followed by the rest of the group. Adam could be looked after when the battle was done. The view that opened before their eyes was terrible. Here they were: Sam, Maythor, Davin, Gruff… their bodies lay lifeless on the floor, butchered by the Drow that stood near. With flared up anger, the fight commenced again. No mercy was shown until the last of the Drow stopped breathing.

    Defeated, they gathered the bodies of the fallen. Adam had been caught by Tyr's deadly fire, having stood too close to it. The burns were all present. For a moment, they stood in silence, each for his own praying for the souls of the dead, that they may yet see their way into life once again. Many of the slain had obviously been tortured, Sam missed a finger and part of his tongue. The sight alone enraged them all. "Where are the women that came?" The question brought all back to attention. Indeed, where were they? The only bodies here were off the men, none of the women. "Any idea why they would take the women… is it because they are elves?" For a moment, they pondered the situation. Why indeed? The drow were rumored to be maternal, deeming men as inferior. Perhaps that was the reason. It could mean at least the women were still alive. "Rest one by one, the others don't let the guard down" It was settled. They would continue the search after a quick rest to regain their strengths. It might very well be the last time. Food and water was passed to those already found. Belthor was starved, accepting the food all too gladly. Then, he lowered his head in prayer to Moradin for the first time again in weeks.

    The chase continued… the rest could not be far, the trail grew stronger, fresher. But the fear of losing the others grew stronger as well. They hurried themselves forth as anxiety won over common sense. Soon, the caverns looked both strange to them and familiar, as if they had been there before. "We gave a complete loop. Still no track of the girls." The group tensed in frustration. These Drow knew their surroundings all too well, knew every rock, twist and turn by heart. The group, however, they walked blind, guided only by a trail that grew dimmer and dimmer, stirred by their passing and the battles on the way. More than once, it was lost. And the dead magic, it was back as well, once again being their largest problem in keeping everyone alive. "There was another way.." Silent, they retraced their steps unto a split of tunnels, and went forth into the unknown again.

    Mutterings and talk began to rise as some opted to return to the surface. After all the four that had come to find them knew the way out. At least the fallen could be saved then already. Yet all knew that such was not an option. They had to stay together if they were to be certain that the others could be saved as well. Only in numbers would they be able to make it back now. "Enough. We all go back or none, so stop it" It was enough. Quietly, the group moved on.

    "Fall back!! All at the same!" Panic rose high in the group as all fought for their very own lives. The stalkers had been no match. They had detected the foul spirits in time, and dealt with them. But the devourers..four of them had crawled in from behind them, and this time, they would not bow to Helm's nor Lathander's will. With ferocious bloodlust, they gnawed at them, using their own dark powers to heal their brethren. The fight lasted for hours, all were standing by sheer force of will alone. The knight's wounds were too grave to even set a foot further, and her husband, and Belthor… they were in even worse shape. Only by the Gods graces did they all still stand.

    "Darn they are hard!" They had made it, the fight had been won. But the cost had been to high. Quickly they retreated to safety, bandaging the many wounds, resting for a while to gather what little strength remained. They were al more dead than alive, no match for whatever might still cross their path. And the trail, it had been lost long ago. They were walking blind…

    "You are powerful….your blood will serve better than those weak ones. And you are female." The knight roared inwardly. Here they were, surrounded by a Drow patrol. Kharbeh and Linah were with them, captive. No longer being in any shape to battle, the group had decided to attempt reason with the dark elves first. At first, the leader, a female and priestess no doubt, had refused to even speak with them. Yet in the end she had gotten curious enough to hold weapons at bay for just a moment, allowing speech in the Elven tongue. The knight had barely understood what was going on, straining to catch the glimpses of Ayanie's translations and the responses given in common by some. In the mean time, the other drow were clearly mocking them, waiting for the sign to commence the fight and slaughter them all. And now…

    The priestess had recognized Rith's armour, the mark of the Phoenix. Her life was to be traded for the freedom of the others, and the chance for the group to leave to the surface. Kharbeh and Linah were granted their freedom. The knight remained back, powerless. She tried to talk Rith out of it for a small moment, but she understood all to well. It was the only deal the Drow would accept. And Rith had a strong will, if the Drow did not kill her outright she would be able to hold them for a few days. "Shane…" The two exchanged looks for a moment, and the knight knew enough. This was not the time or place. "You'll not be alone. We'll come back" The Drow priestes ended the mutters with a grin, ordering Rith away. "It was a pleasure doing business with you… Leave while you have your lives, surfacer scum." The knight looked coldly upon the priestess. "Make certain she keeps hers" It was met with a mocking laughter as the Drow retreated once more. "She will live…she is too valuable"

    The Drow retreated, content over their traded prize. One was left to guard their retreat. Belthor couldn't hold himself any longer, furiously striking at him. _"Get out now!"_The knight ordered the others retreat. The time had ended, more than this could not be gained for now. At least most of the group had ben saved, and they now knew where the others were. Such was to valuable to loose now. None were in a shape to battle anymore. Quickly she rushed forward to Belthor's aid, wanting to drag him back. Her husband roared in anger, striking out as well at the Drow that remained. With skilful strikes they were sent to their deaths. "Please.. let us go now! we will find her, we will save her! but if we stay here we will die and no one will never know what happened!" Ayanie's voice brought the two back to reality as the paladin angrily motioned them out. There would be another time.

    Thankful for the light of day the survivors emerged from the crypts again. The Friar, praying over the grave of a lost friend, came rushing forth at the sight, shocked and amazed at their return. The Gods had granted it, they were safe once again. Quickly, the Friar set to work to restore life to the fallen where the souls were still willing. Tired, the knight sat down by her husband, finally able to hold him close. The events had shaken him badly. He took it upon himself, claimed it was his fault that so much grief had been caused. He wouldn't listen to any of her words, leaving the graveyard alone.

    Weary, the knight returned home a few hours later. It was empty. Not a trace of her husband around, his laboratory emptied, his belongings al but gone…

  • S

    Well Rescue - Part 1

    "Have you heard from your husband already, Shane?" Rith's voice was calm and soothing as always, yet it betrayed the growing concerns. The knight shook her head lightly, looking at the ominous well in worry. Three weeks had already passed since they left. The first days she had still heard his voice through the magical link brought forth by the rings they wore, the symbol to their wedlock. Then all had fallen silent.

    "He still lives I am sure, so there still is hope, Rith. We must have faith in their success." The look in Rith's eyes told her the same things she herself feared. Three weeks were a long time, even for a venture such as the one they had left on. Her heart told her well enough that he still lived, but that was all. For all they knew, the whole group could be trapped somewhere, lost, or worse. It was the silence that worried her the most.

    It had been a large group to venture on. He had called upon the finest of the land to aid in venturing into the dark crypts, into the underground. The intent had been to find out what was causing the disturbances within the Norwick well, what had caused the wild magic to appear. The knight would have gone along herself, had not other pressing matters required her attention as well. She had relied on his safety in numbers, knowing the abilities of many that went along all too well. Sam, Belthor, Maythor, Gruff, the druid Davin, Braeth, the mysterious Kharbeh, Linah, Sasha and even the vile-hearted Yurana, the bard Adam, Bacelar and Nefiri had all been in their numbers. Surely that would account for something!

    "Perhaps we should go in and see for ourselves." Rith spoke out loud what the knight had been thinking herself. For a moment, the silence between the two remained. Then, the knight sighed deeply. "Aye, perhaps we should. It has been too long. I fear for their lives." She looked around for a small moment. The town was completely empty, save for Frago, who himself kept a respectful distance from the well, remaining to the back of his open air market. Jore stood quiet near the gates. Either he had not heard their conversation or did not wish to acknowledge. It did not matter. The two councilors to the Divine Shield exchanged a glance, both knowing what was to be. If they went, they would be alone. "I'll be at Fred's in prayer for a while." With those words, the paladin turned away. There was no more need to speak. They would prepare themselves, and leave.

    "You're intending to go down after them? If something happened to them, do you really think that just the two of you can manage?" The Peltarchian Senator Ayanie sat on the bench next to Rith upon her return, looking at her in disbelief. "I know Ayanie, but we have to try. For all we know they could be trapped down there, starving" Ayanie's face grew troubled as well, and though her heart was fearful, her will was strong. "Allright then, I'll come with you." The paladin merely nodded as she heard the words, glancing but briefly at the Senator. "Thank you Ayanie. We'll need all the help we can get." It were the only words she offered.

    The latest events in Jiyyd had thoroughly severed the good relations that the knight had shared with the senator. Ayanie looked at her both in trouble, discomfort, and slight anger at the situation at hand. Rith looked between the two a moment, then stood and left to prepare for her own. "Leave your problems for another time or solve them both. We have more pressing matters to attend to." The paladin knew that all too well. Ayanie's mastery of the Arcane would be sorely needed if they ventured forth. Many rumors had come from strong undead contructs, and drow had been sighted before. If they would encounter any of them, they would need all the strength available. "Very well. Let's set our differences aside for now, Ayanie. We can talk later. Yet we should talk soon." The senator responded with a light nod, uncertain for a moment. Then, she offered the paladin to speak on the matters now briefly, until the Dawnbringer would return.

    The discussion was heated. The paladin could at first scarcely believe the words spoken, and in disbelief had allowed her own words to become harsh. Yet in the end, both could at least reach a conscensus on their differences. With Rith returning, the discussion was ended sharply, both agreeing to set it aside for now for the common good. Their differences could not endanger the task ahead. Grudgingly, the knight accepted her presence with them in this venture. This one matter, this difference of thought, did not mean that the senator was to be shunned. She still saw the right ideals, still knew which path to take to further a cause of good intent. She was still Ayanie.

    "May Helm guard us all this day" The knight looked upon the crypt doors with mixed feelings. The dangers that lurked beyond were unknown, yet the rumors bore no good tidings. Chances were high that none of them would return with their lives. Yet they had to at least try. More lives than their own were perhaps at stake, if they could be found at all. Determined, the three looked upon the dawning sun one more time. Then, the old rusted gate cracked open, and they stepped into the darkness below…

    The magic wards on the door were still intact. Tarian had spoken of it being the entrance to caverns below the crypts, where evil lay that was so unspeakable they had warded the door to keep everyone out. Yet it was where they had to have passed through. The 3 had hoped the wards would have been lifted, yet their hopes had not been answered. "A splendid way to start this venture already" The paladin muttered, turning for the exit again. "Tarian had a key to this door. Let me check if he still has it. Perhaps he has merely unlocked it for them."

    But Tarian did not have it. He had given it to the others, and there was no copy of the single key that could bypass the wards. Once again, fate was against them. They would need to venture into the old crypts themselves, where a lich was told to reside, and find another way. Yet fortune was still present as wel, as the ranger Shyrae crossed her path on her return, and upon hearing of the expedition decided to grant her bow in aid. The help was more than welcomed. Instead of just herself and the Dawnbringer, four would now try their chances.

    "Trap!" Shyrae's warning came too late. Allready, the knight had felt the stone under her foot shift away, filling the hallway with poisonous gas. "Splendid. Just splendid." The knight muttered again. Traps had never been her strong point. She'd need to learn to watch the signs of their presence better if they were to undertake more of these ventures. If… "Shyrae, you walk first. At least your eyes see something here."
    Coughing as the gas burned her lungs, she moved on. The poison would wear off soon enough, and the others didn't look like they had breathed anything of the gas themselves. A minor misfortune that would prove to be only a small trouble. Yet they could not afford it, and they all knew it well. They would need to spare every bit of strength they had, and in doing so, traps as this could wear them down too soon. Slowly they moved on, allowing Shyrae the time to look, and warn.

    "Nothing. Only deeper darkness. But all for the better perhaps. I could hear the water flow below" Shyrae climbed over the edge again, aided by the others. Quietly, the knight untied the rope, placing it back in her pack. It would have been too easy, no doubt. If they had had another length of rope they might have made it. Now, nothing else remained but to continue and find another way down.

    Dust and small rocks tumbled down from the ceiling as the ground shook underneath them. "We must hurry. These tremors are getting too frequent. Soon enough this whole place might collapse on us." Quickly, they darted past the charred remains bones once living. The boneling constructs and devourers had been troublesome, but not unstoppable. The statue in the middle of the room however, did worry them immensely. It looked like it was breathing, it's eyes followed their every move. Yet it remained immobile, as if awaiting something. None of them wished to find out what it was. With haste, they rushed past it into the hallway on the other side.

    The passage deeper in the crypts was right before them, blocked by rubble. The tremors had caused more damage than they had expected already. For a moment they reviewed their options. Then, the peace was disturbed again. The shadows around them appeared less than harmless as they slowly came to live. Red piercing eyes opened as shadowy claws and teeth protruded and gasped at them. Ayanie let out a faint cry in fear. Shyrae backed away, her bow being of no use against the misty talons. Quickly, the Dawnbringer grasped her symbol, calling forth Lathander's might to at least hold them off, while the knight lunged forward. Soon the fiends retreated back to where they came from, and the shadows stirred lifelessly once more. The ground shook again for a moment. Quickly, with combined efforts, they cleared the passage and ventured deeper below.

    "Blocked!" The tremors had collapsed parts of the ceiling, blocking their way further. "Great. Now what?" They would have to head back to the upper floor and find another way, meaning they would need to pass the stone being again. They'd been lucky so far. None of them felt like trying their luck too far. "Let me try." Ayanie's voice broke the moment's silence, swallowing away her fears of the place. "I know how to alter my form. Perhaps as an Umberhulk I can move some of these rocks aside." They agreed, stepping back to allow Ayanie the necessary space. A few incantations later, a low growl echoed through the halls of the ancient crypts. The knight averted her eyes from the beast for a moment. Although quite used to these kinds of Arcane spells by now, she still held a distaste for them, they still made her stomach turn uneasy. It was extremely helpful for now, but still, she could but scarcely understand how anyone would even wish to become such a beast.

    Quickly, the beast that was Ayanie set to work. With feral strength, the claws pushed the heavy rocks aside, slowly but certainly creating a passage for the rest to pass through. The corridor was ridden with traps, and each tried their best to avoid them.

    The knight felt it as they moved further. A strong evil source was near, stronger than the taint that was all around, gradually increasing as they ventured on. A moment later, Shyrae alerted them all to a halt. The corridor ended into a large room. They peered inside to learn the threat that lay ahead. "Remnant" Rith uttered the word with hatred, holding Lathander's symbol tight. For a moment, the Dawnbringer and the Helmite exchanged glances. Then they both charged forward to put the fiend to rest.

    "I wonder how the others passed here" The 4 stood silent for a moment, examining the iron bars that blocked the way beyond. Indeed it seemed impossible for the others to have gone passed it without leaving permanent damage. But Bottesini was a strong mage. Perhaps he had been able to use his knowledge of the Arcane to guide them through. It did not matter to them. Shyrae pointed out heavy tracks at the other side of the gates, proof of a large group passing by. The beast Ayanie growled, attacking the bars with all the strength the magical muscles gave. A few moments later, they had a hole large enough for them to fit through. With a few soft words, Ayanie cancelled the spell that had given her shape, returning to her normal self. "If it is indeed her normal self" The knight shrugged lightly, not speaking the thoughts out loud. With all these mages and their Arcane tricks, you never knew.

    They wandered through the dank halls for hours, trying their best effort to follow the trail ahead. Time and again the trail faded, only to be picked up again a bit furher. The crypts seemed endless, and it's dangers even more. But finally, after hours of battle with the constant plagues of undead and traps around, they found it, the passage to even lower parts. Tired and hungry they decided to make camp. Surely, it must already have been night already above ground, or morning even. They didn't know, and didn't quite care either. At least they were on the right track.

    _"Dead magic"_Rith spoke out loud what the others had feared. The passage they had found had opened up into a section of caverns of large caverns, leading them away from the ruined maze of crypts above. They had made their way into the unknown Underground. The knight nodded silently, grasping her blade tighter. "We'll need to be extra carefull now. We cannot afford to waste our strengths when our prayers can no more be heard." Ayanie's face contorted in light fear. "If… If my spells won't help, then... " All remained silent for a moment, understanding all too well what she meant. Nothing, no spells to aid them from behind, no prayers of healing if battle grew dire. Only what already was appeared to remain. The knight uncapped a small vial, one of Vroka's light healing brews, and set it to her lips. Nothing again. The brew was bitter and cold to drink, but that was it. The warmth it would give that aided in healing wounds was gone. "Not even this will work. Try to avoid battles if they are not needed. We cannot turn back now." All nodded. This could prove troublesome. The fleshling constructs that lay defeated had been a minor problem to their blades. But what else was to be encountered? "Wait here one moment. I'll be right back." Quickly, Ayanie turned back to the passage from where they had come, away from the dead caves. Rith looked around at the charred remains of the undead priests. "At least Lathander's light still holds them off. Not even this dead zone can stop that." Again, the knight nodded at her words in silence. It would take more than just dead magic to stop Lathander or Helm from exacting their will upon the undead. Helm's watchful eyes would show Lathander where to shine His light in this vast underground if needed. Shyrae took a few steps forward, searching for the remainder of the trail, and motioned forward. "We'll need it. More undead are a bit further. Their smell is all-present." Behind them, they heard a soft growl, and the shuffling of flesh upon stone. They turned quickly, only to see not Ayanie, but a huge troll return from the passage. It growled lightly to them, looking around with fearful eyes. "Atleast I won't be so useless for now." The knight bit away the unease again at the sight of the huge monster. This time, she was right. This way, her chances of survival were vastly improved. "Allright, let's make haste." Quickly they set forth, ready to dispatch the sighted undead from their existence.

  • S

    Orc Truce

    "Thank you all for coming. As you know Vroka and several of our children have been kidnapped by the Orcs." The paladin looked upon the Council Speaker in shock. She had just barely made it in time for the called meeting, having excused herself from her work in Peltarch for it. Seeing the looks upon many of the faces gathered she was not the only one in unknowing of it. She knew the meeting had been called in regards to the Orcs, but this… It couldn't have happened long ago.

    "The Orcs have demanded a pink orc's head, a pink orc from Jiyyd they say." Lens Undon, the town's Council Leader, continued the explanation after the first murmurs died out. Immediately, all stirred again. A pink Orc? In Jiyyd? At first, none grasped it, yet the paladin knew as well as others who was meant by it. Bruno… The thought of the name alone made her stomach turn.

    "They say we, or rather he, broke the agreement to battle only in the fields and declared open war on them. Would not listen to their representative and in fact cut his head off and chucked it over their gate with a note. I would have thought this was typical Orc treachery but other news makes me suspect there may be an element of truth in it"

    The knight listened on as anger rose upwards. She felt the calming touch of her husband's hand on hers. He liked this as much as she did. The paladin remained silent. Zak was called to explain. He'd been there with Bruno when the events occurred. The knight had already heard some of his words, and knew how ashamed he now was of even having been there. She remained silent, listening as the brave hin stepped forth, shame apparent.

    "Jiyyd wants war with you Orcs!" The Council roared. Those had been Bruno's words to the Orcs when he had, according to the explanation, cut off the Orc messenger's head and tossed it over the gates, calling them cowards. It was not surprising that the Orcs had responded in kind. This murderous fool had broken the truce that had been gained through hardship and the blood of many. The truce had been sorely needed by the town, Jiyyd was on it's last breath against the Orcs, only a handful proud defenders remaining. And now this had been broken by the act of one not even coming from the Commonwealth, speaking words in name of the town he had no right to speak, leaving Jiyyd to suffer the consequences. One more crime on his list of atrocities.

    The meeting stirred on as more was told. A Peltarch Senator had been along with them, the description all too clear to the paladin. Sadness came over her at the knowledge. A black clad white haired elven woman had aided the Orcs in kidnapping the children as well. She knew of only one to match the description given: Tassabra. They would need to be wary. Options were called for, questions raised if Bruno's head should be delivered to the Orcs as demanded. Yet she knew as well as the others it would not help. It would only show the weakness of Jiyyd to the Orcs, tell them that they could get away with anything if they just took the children.

    The children… perhaps it was fortunate that Vroka had been taken with them. At least there was a kind heart near to calm them and give them strength. She could only pray they were still alive in the Stronghold. Bruno could be dealt with later. They needed to focus on them now. All out assault was out of the question. They would be dead before Jiyyd's defenders would even breach the gates. Perhaps a small group covered by the guise of arcane magics would be able to sneak in and retrieve the prisoners. Options were called for, considered, but the planning progressed too slow. Day turned in to night as the meeting erupted into nothing more than a squabble over this Bruno. The knight could not believe the words spoken there, from Sam even at times. Time and again order was called for in an attempt to remain with the children. The knight could feel the anxiety of the commoners growing, their fears being worded as night progressed. The children would be dead before a solution was reached!

    The diviner of the Emerald Circle was called for to discover the location of the children: deep within the Fortress. The battle would be hard if it came down to it, and surely the Orcs would be ready for it. The situation seemed endless. Then, Sam spoke of how the Orc Leader's brother had been caught and kept in chains in the inn's basement. Perhaps he could provide a solution, or at least be forced into telling of any other means to gain access to the Stronghold unseen. The Orc was brought forth.

    At first he was questioned, but the Orc was too proud to be willing. Merin tried to weaken his resistance with magics, but his will was strong. This Orc did not fear death, and saw himself above them, only fearing his brother's wrath. He would be a hard one to deal with. Then, the option came. The Orcs followed strength, and the strongest lead. Yet in their own dark ways they knew honor as well. In their own customs, they would not break a bond of honor forged between warriors. If the Orc was to challenge his own brother and win, he would gain control over the Orcish forces. The Orc shrugged at first, then listened as reason came to him. Apparently he liked the idea of being the one to lead his brethren instead of his brother. He would be the one to command, not the one to bow to others. Sam made sure he would understand. Once again, and agreement was made. He would call his brother to Grut Mak, strengthened in mind and body. He would defeat him, and become the new leader to the Orcs. In return for Jiyyd's help in acquiring the position, he would order the children and Vroka released, and the truce reinstated. The paladin was not in liking of the deal, yet they had no choice. The enemy needed to be trusted for the sake of the innocent. Once again, a pact with the Orcs was made in the dead of night...

    "Helm forgive me." It was with mixed feelings that the knight cast the Guardian's blessings upon the Orc. Here, Helm was needed to strengthen His enemy for the further good of innocents, of children. The Orc gloated as his muscles strengthened and his mind grew a solid wall. Helm would see him through, and what Helm could not provide, miss Lilly's own prayers would. The mystical armor called forth by the Keeper of the Emerald Tower finished the incantations invoked. His brother would be no match for him. The paladin prayed that they were right in the Orcs's motives, that indeed he would honor them high enough to make good on his part of the bargain. She drew her blade just in case.

    With loud growls and cries of war the two Orcs clashed. Sickened, the knight watched along with the others. Here they were again, for the second time they decided who held the might amongst the Orcs. The Orcish Leader was no match against the prayers of Jiyyd. He fell swiftly to his brother's blows.

    The Orc let go of a loud warcry as his brother fell down to the ground. Quickly, he gathered his fallen brother's remains, his armor and sword as symbol of his new gained power. The paladin turned towards the Orc, not feeling the same cheerfulness the others did as the battle was won. Still, she was wary of treachery on this strengthened Orc's behalf. Yet he held true to his own honor, affirming the truce between the two parties. The fights on the plains would be allowed to continue, but no more at one another's gates. And the prisoners, they would be released.

    It was with mixed feelings that the paladin watched as the children returned home. The Orcs' feast drums sounded far into the night. Soon, they would again turn into drums of war, she realized that all too well. But until then, Jiyyd was safe. And foremost, they would have time to strengthen their defenses as well. Jiyyd could breathe again for the coming months.

    A soft smile showed as she aided in showing the children home. Now, all that remained was Bruno, and Sam…

  • S

    ((edit: double posted))

  • S

    Murder in the Narss

    “Kill Bottesini. He is in Norwick - Mysterious shadow.”

    The knight trembled as the whole world crushed down upon her. The words were short, but all too clear. It had been him they’d been after, him that had been marked to die, not the respected Chancellor of Norwick, Belthor Troff. Cold anger came over her as she roughly dismissed the note Belthor was holding up to her, found in the mines, covered in blood. His body lay lifeless in her arms, blackened by the scorches of lightning. No more did she feel him near, no more did his voice call out in the silence of the night. He was gone, and with every breath they took she could feel him slipping farther away from the last bonds that held his soul bound to this world. ”Very well then. War is on.” The words were cold. No more could she care for them. The Black Hand had made it’s move, and now her husband was dead. Enraged, she cried out over the Nars, for all to hear. ”YOU HEAR THAT? YOU'LL HAVE YOUR WAR !!!”

    Without a further thought the knight moved on. They had to reach Peltarch soon, before all would be lost. Her body ached with the pain of his loss, his pain, the pain of his own demons facing him as they tried to lure him into the afterlife. He would not hold to life much longer, and she knew it well. Belthor was right, they had to stay close together lest they would not reach Peltarch at all. Yet she couldn’t care, not anymore. Whatever would hold them from their path to the grand city would either run away or fall in trying. Behind her, she could hear the others hurry to keep pace. Jaroo, Belthor, Gruff and even that power hungry mage Isaac… all were silent.

    The argument before seemed so futile now. She had been angry at him, tried to make him understand why he’d been wrong in traveling with Bruno into the deep Rawlins woods. He understood all too well, but his stubborn neutrality had nearly brought them to fight had Belthor not come by. The discussion had continued in the Chancellor’s office as they tried to make him see the effects his actions might have caused. Months of work in discussing politics, guild allegiances and even Norwick could have been destroyed by the mere fact that he was friend to the Chancellor, and husband to her own. The argument had stopped as swiftly as it had begun when first Gruff and then the druid Jaroo requested Belthor’s attention as well. Then, -he- had come…

    They hadn’t seen him enter, and only Helm could have known how long he’d been there with them, listening to all that had been said. Yet there he was, his clothes dark, his expression warning them at once of trained discipline and experience. ”Pardon me but do ya have tha right ta break in my office? I think not.” Belthor did surely not appreciate this sudden intrusion into his own quarters, and neither did the rest of them. Instinctively, the knight’s hand went to her sword, loosening the strings of peace attached that held it in it’s scabbard, a custom of her homeland she stubbornly kept to. The man just smirked at them, replying in a calm manner that betrayed a strong mind. _”The contract said one to kill not four. I think i got screwed.”_ For a slight moment the four stood there, watching the man’s movements. ”Well what must be done must be done if you excuse me.” With those words he calmly rose, lunging out at Belthor. They all responded in kind. He would not be allowed to fulfill his contract and end the Chancellor’s life. Not while one loyal to Helm was near. The assassin quickly saw his mistake in making the effort, making good his escape out of the office and out of the town itself. They all set out to pursue him, quickly followed by Gruff and Isaac, who had been alerted to the battle inside. The chase ended at the old mines. The Dwarves had driven the bandits out before, yet the mines itself were not completely safe yet, as some still sought refuge within the vast tunnels underneath. Surely it would still take several weeks for all to be routed. A perfect place to hide.

    How foolish it had been for all of them to believe the Chancellor had been the mark. Even Bottesini himself had not seen it, nor had she. It was logical, the assassin had showed in Belthor’s own office, and the Chancellor himself had been the first target. It was him they were bent on guarding while they set foot within the mines, not Bottesini. They met with several remnants of the old bandit opposition, and with some creatures that had taken refuge within the mines. Yet it was the encounter beyond that alerted them to the true extent of the attempt: Black Hand. They came from the shadows quickly, trying to halt them and no doubt take their lives. Their presence in the mines was proof enough. They were behind it, but why? Why would the Hand be interested in taking the life of the Chancellor? Their goals were totally different, their aim on Jiyyd and on the gem! The only reason the knight could think of was Belthor’s allegiance to the Legion. He was general to it after all. They set forth in hopes of finding either the assassin or any other of them they could capture for questioning.

    The first one they saw. The knight had almost stepped upon it as she heard the calls from behind. ”Trap.” She froze instantly, allowing her husband to look at them before they set forth. Something must have gone wrong, because suddenly the halls were filled with poisonous gas. She set a foot forth as she tried to pull him out of it. The small movement under her foot alerted her instantly, the tiny click that gave way as a small twine crushed underneath her. It was too late. The lightning struck an instant later. The shock of electricity caught her shield, her sword, the plate she wore. It bounced off, guided by the metal, and sizzled forth. Then she heard his cry as the bolt hit straight in the chest… It was too late. Instantly she dropped her sword, trying to save his life as he twitched from the force upon him. Belthor and Jaroo dashed forth with inhuman swiftness, uttering prayers faster than they’d ever done before. But it was too late. The damage done had been too great to keep him alive. While the poisonous cloud lifted, along with it came his final breath.

    The Black Hander gloated as he saw what occurred. First, he tried to lure them forth, towards their own death no doubt. Yet the knight felt no urge to continue the fight. Not anymore… She took his lifeless body into his arm, turning to leave the tunnels. Yet behind her she could soon hear arguments and words being spoken, as the Black Hand captain was speaking to them. First he denied knowledge, claiming they were there to mine for themselves, yet the lies were certain to them. Obviously he gloated, and his words were only meant to allow his own men to draw near and surround them. Belthor had enough of it as well, and with Moradin on his lips he lunged forward. The enemy was dealt with harshly, none of the Hand sent forth were allowed to look further upon this life. The knight herself calmed only when they once again saw the stars in the open skies above the Nars.

    ”They can have their war…. It has been enough.” The words rang cold in Tyr’s halls, as they waited on the Head Priestess to come forth. This time, the Hand had gone too far. Now, even her own husband was marked as sacrifice to further their own goals. It could not, would not be allowed to continue. His pain grew stronger, and her own heart grew colder as she felt him drifting farther away. The words of friends and allies were comforting, yet it all seemed so futile now. For what it was worth, the grief of the others was sincere, at least she found comfort in that. She closed her eyes, uncaring for the tears she could no longer control, holding him closely towards him. With her final thought, she prayed Helm to watch over him, to aid him in keeping hold of this life.

    ”Oh no!” They looked up as Lady Daisy’s voice sounded through the halls, compassion showing. The knight rose to her feet at her presence. She asked the Tyr’s aid to his rescue, as had been her part too many times already, yet The Priestess’s voice cut her off, her words driving the dagger that wounded the paladin’s heart. ”I cant raise him….something holds his soul to the Afterlife.” The proud knight’s world collapsed as the words came. Her face paled, all thoughts fled from memory as the icy cold of death clasped her heart, aching every vein as if she herself was dying. It couldn’t be! Here they were with but a moment’s time left, at the mercy of Tyr’s grace. And it was forfeit? He could not return, being held back? Her mind screamed out to Helm in pain. ”No…” It was all she could utter. Nothing remained. Defeated she listened to the Tyrean. His soul was held back by a vile force, a presence so dark Tyr could not reach it. Someone would need to venture beyond life itself, and break the bond. Someone would have to die…

    ”Whatever the cost, m'lady. Speak and it will be done, Helm willing.” The knight was determined. Not even death itself would be able to keep her away from this. She would not allow him to be held in death by the mere whim of some unknown presence. Daisy’s words of warning meant nothing anymore. Aye, her own soul might be lost if failure was upon her. But then so be it. Without a further thought she stepped through the portal, the small rift created by Tyr’s will, allowing passage between the realms of the living and the dead.

    The knight needed a few moments to regain her senses and focus on her new surroundings. Faint, she noted the others coming as well. It strengthened her own resolve even more, warmed her knowing that those she had come to know as friend and ally were ready to face death and damnation itself as well in order to save a friend. Even this Isaac… the knight could hardly understand him. His heart was proof enough of his own egotistical desires, and she could bare no trust to him. Yet again he proved himself willing to aid beyond normal measures. He had spoken on her behalf when she had struck down Keeper Myell unwillingly, and had stood aside when they had ventured to close the portal that had been spouting the Slaadi. Even this man was able to perform actions of unselfish good intent. Perhaps she was mistaken in him after all.

    ”What the…nature is run by dwarven kin in an inn?!” Jaroo’s wondrous outburst was almost amusing had the circumstances not been so dire. Here they were, on the threshold of the life beyond, there where all lost could finally find oblivion: an inn. It was almost unbelievable, it all seemed so unreal, a trick played upon the minds of the living to deceive and torture, yet here they were. And before them stood the beast, a boned creature towering high above them, welcoming them to death, and a drink?

    The knight scowled upon the sight, calling upon Helm’s might to purge it from their sight. The words of banishment, the power summoned by them, they were strong. In their mortal realms they would have destroyed most of the unliving without a further glimpse. Yet now she felt weak, Helm’s might far away, as if unable to penetrate the mystical barriers that surrounded the place. They were in Cyric’s realm, and here, only the Lord of death and darkness ruled. The creature laughed at the motion, and in sickening kindness invited them further. It even pleaded them to be nice, as he’d already dealt with ”a bunch of bandit and Black Hand wannabees someone just killed.”.

    The knight roared at the obvious insult. ”Where is he?” The question was harsh, stern, direct. There was no time for idle talk. Each breath spent here diminished their own chances of return, and weakened Bottesini’s chances of salvation. At first the creature claimed ignorance, then it claimed he’d given himself to the abyss itself. It couldn’t be true, she knew it. It was drawing for time no doubt, keeping them here, yet it soon saw it was to no avail. The paladin was steadfast, determined. The beast pointed up the stairs to the back. "I tell ya i saw him go by this way"

    Without further thought she rushed on, followed by the others. The dark force at bay soon became apparent. Creatures neither living nor dead were called forth to stop them, to hold them off and draw them into their own pitiful existence. It wouldn’t help. Strengthened by resolve and faith, they were dealt with. She scowled lightly at the sight of the quivering Isaac, hiding behind a plant, but it did not matter.

    The shade summoned lay destroyed before them, the last whiffs of etherealness spreading out as they uncovered a tiny shard. The knight knelt down to grasp it, holding it in the palm of her hand. A feeling of warmth came over her as she saw the visions within: he was there, her husband, the one they had defied death itself for to save him. It was his shard, the representation of his very soul as he clinged to the last fringes of life. A moment later, all blurred around them, and Tyr’s halls opened before their eyes.

    ”Have you found his soul?” Daisy’s voice called out both in hope and worry. They could not have lasted much longer. Death would have claimed them soon enough, and she had feared for their lives. Quietly, the paladin offered her the shard, allowing Tyr’s work be done. At least for him it could be done… a sudden chill came over the paladin as she dismissed the thought. Helm had forgiven her, and only time could tell the future. She smiles softly, allowing tears to run freely as life’s breath came to him once again.

  • S

    Victory in Defeat: Continued

    ”Perhaps it's that what bothers me most…. How can I even find the strength to continue, knowing all that I do care for are in pain with each step I take? Yet I walk on in His name… “

    Her thoughts wandered off to Darian. She had walked him to his grave in Helm’s name. A few words would have been all that had been needed to save a brother’s life, to keep him from the path that would lead to death. They had remained unspoken, and in exchange she had offered him words of self-righteous wisdom, the knowledge that it was indeed Helm’s will as he had known all too well. His death had been foretold, his sacrifice needed to destroy what was in being, to save another’s life. She had watched him fall, and her own hand had finished the task. His will had been done. The elven woman, the one she had heard him express his undying love to just the night before, she could not understand what drove them. And neither could Frolly. The knight didn’t blame them. How could they understand?

    Frolly… for months she had tried to understand what was going on in the poor hin’s mind. They had met long ago, the sadness of her tales of slavery had won the young knight’s heart. She had offered to take her under her guard, to make certain that such harm would not befall her again. She had offered her freedom from her bonds, and with that, allowed her a chance at life. Frolly could not understand the meaning of it, she could not grasp the reality of what freedom brought with it. The knight had been forced to offer her work in her guard so that she would not try to seek the one she called Master then. Yet in doing so, she had also offered her the freedom to do as she pleased, to wander with whom she cared for, to see life from a new perspective. At first, the young knight had not been all too pleased in seeing her together with Mallis, yet Sam had assured her of Mallis’s good intent. And as weeks had turned into months, she noticed Frolly’s joyfulness, her caring when the hin-lad was around. She had no right to keep them apart, no right to take away the sparkle of joy that Frolly had apparently found. So she had stepped into the shadows, allowing her the freedom of making judgement of her own life, which ever way it would turn. The poor hin had been enslaved by master’s bonds long enough.

    She had noticed Frolly’s change, her look of jealousy, defiance even when she passed. The words came as well, eventually. In her eyes, she was slave to Helm as much as the hin herself had been slave to her own masters. Perhaps the hin was right. After all, she had pledged her life towards His cause. Yet she had done so willingly, free of choice, not bound by balls and chains. Frolly’s words had grown past defiance the night Darian died. Helm was worth nothing towards her, she despised His word, His will. She despised her. The knight had been done reasoning with her. Time and again words had driven daggers deep into her heart, yet this time no more. If such was the choice that Frolly had made, then so be it. At least, her path in life was clear.

    ”That is our gift and our burden… He makes us strong, but we must keep faith, be of strong will. Especially of us, those strong in His faith, leaders, we must remain strong....or strive to do so.” Ah, how well she knew the truth in Kanen’s words. They were more than just servants to Helm’s cause. They were His knights, His tool in spreading His will. It was but normal that many could not understand what it was that drove them forth, that they could not see the reason behind the actions taken. His will be done… Not even her own husband understood her completely, yet she did not blame him. She blamed none for it. ”Leaders.” That was her strength. Not the arm that held the sword towards His cause, but the mind and will that planned, the heart that forged alliances. The knight looked up again at brother and friend, the path clear once again. ”Perhaps I'll look into those some more. Norwick needs us. At least there, Helm will work His ways….” She smiled softly at him, and he returned it likewise.

    Her work was not done yet, much was still left unfinished. Helm’s aid was needed in Norwick, and through the Order she would play her part in granting it. The cultists were driven back for now, yet their threat would surely remain. And the Black Hand… she still held her guard against them, the vow up to now unbroken. She would need to look further into that matter as well. Through this, Helm’s name would live on, and she would remain His tool in working His ways. The lone rock, the bearer of burden uncalled for.

    ”May Helm continue to watch over and protect you, Shane of Helm.” Perhaps it was so. She had not failed. Her own was nothing compared to the greater cause. She had been the tool that allowed the work to be done, if not through her, then through others. It did not matter if the glory of success was not hers. Such was not what Helm required of His knights to begin with. Personal gain meant nothing, only the fact that it was done.

    Quietly, she dropped to her knee again after Kanen left, finding strength once more in the words that were to His grace.

  • S

    Victory in Defeat

    ”You feel like what?” Kanen looked upon her with gentle eyes, nothing in his manner showing the experienced paladin underneath. Yet the concern was all too clear. She averted his eyes, looking instead at the dull necklace in her hand. It was still stained in blood, her own blood, crusted and dried upon His mark. Her armour, the armour He had gifted, the one to carry His light… it lay besides His altar. She had not touched it, she didn’t even feel like looking upon it. She was unworthy of it now.

    ”You are His Champion now,” The words from before still rang clearly in her head. Now she yearned to cry out, to tell Kanen how false his words had been. She was none but a Champion of death, and of failure. Here she was, beaten down, broken, in doubt. Kanen had given her his charge in the false pretense that she would be able to accomplish what he had left behind. After all, she had always been strong both in mind and body. Helm had made her so, and His grace was upon her… But she wasn’t, not anymore. With each step further upon the road, pain drove deeper. With each blow of her sword, strength faded. Yet His will never failed.

    ”I feel like tossing this far away…” A soft smile came over her the moment the words were said. Helm could have taken His grace from her that very instant. Quietly, for a fleeting moment, she even longed for it, craved for the peace of eternal darkness. But He didn’t, for He knew the heart within. With each step taken, each failure along the way, she grew stronger within, determined to fulfill the vow she had quietly taken so many years ago. To walk in His stead, to fulfill His duty, to stand against all that would bring harm. And to carry the burden that was His. Now, she understood what had before been but mere text, mere teachings from an old cleric to a young child. Helm was not merely the rock that would hold the water at bay, not merely the Eye to behold, the Guardian to protect. He carried the burden of all that was right, for he would not waver. He would stand and continue when all others would fail, unmoving from His path. And in doing so, He would bear the scorn of others upon Him, the blame of failure when in fact only He had succeeded. It had been so in the Time of Troubles, when His duty caused the greatest harm of all in the eyes of others. It was His burden, His blame to carry ever since, while there was none to blame at all. He had stood, and the shame of success was His. And now she saw the truth in it herself, why He had not abandoned her when with every breath she had feared He would. She was strong with Him. Now, the burden was hers.

    She did not wait for any reply. The answer was already known. Calmly, she hung the necklace back where it belonged. ”I know well enough I will never do so. I will sooner be back there again in His name.” The faint smile lingered. Here they were, no more pride to hold either one at bay for this time. None the champion nor the fallen, merely servants to the same cause. Brothers in faith, but foremost, friends. ”Beware those thoughts.” She looked upon him, and saw in his eyes how well he understood her. He had been there as well. Yet Helm’s watchful eyes still lingered upon him even now. Cormyrean pride soon rose upwards again as she took in a deep breath, knowing the truth to her own existence all too well. ”I've pledged my life to His cause, Kanen. It will be forfeit before such thoughts become true.”

    It had been a tough few weeks before. Each day had been one of careful maneuvering, plotting ahead so that the charge would not be lost. She had dealt with the duties of rebuilding the sacred Order for the further good of Narfell. Alliances had been forged to withstand even the test of time. Sacrifices had been made to the extremes, and the battles fought had been harder than ever before. Too many times the light had been granted once more to her own eyes, too many times she had seen the sacred walls of Tyr’s halls after the sweetening darkness of death had come to her. Yet it had all been for the greater good. The bandits had been driven back, the Dwarves allowed to build their hold, the cultists defeated.

    The knight took in a deep breath as Kanen continued to reason with her. ”Your death caused the gathering of a force large and strong enough to reduce the cultist menace here, at least for a time. Your friends gathered to save you,” At least in that he spoke truth. It had not been in vain. Her tunic had draped the gates of Jiyyd, covered in blood, in insult and offense. And all had rallied to the cause. With the mights of allies and faiths combined, they had succeeded where she had failed. Through her own demise, the threat was gone. If only that guard… and Adam.

    She shrugged inwards. How mysterious His ways worked indeed. To be called out at His own temple by those heretics, to overcome all but one. The cry at the gates had come swiftly, and when she had arrived there, sword still in hand and stained in blood, Adam Bromley was there as well. But the guard wasn’t. All that remained had been a small puddle of blood along the way. Even though the bard she hardly even knew did not know what had happened, he had stepped outside with her, towards the ruins of Minthas Rhelgor. With Helm’s guard and his songs of valor, they had followed the trail, until the foulness that walked the ruined earth blocked their path once more. Both the dead and the foul heretic hearts of the living were laid to rest, the dreaded shades that were summoned to stop them were sent back to their own realms, the message made clear that no matter how hard they would try, Helm’s might would not waver. They would fail, and Helm alone would remain, vigilant as ever against their cause.

    There, they had made their mistake: they had fallen back towards the gates, certain that the opposition had been halted for now. None that had crossed their path had remained standing save one, and this one had been sent away by them with the clear message to stop, or perish. The man had been Black Hand, a clear sign of their support in liege with these heretics. He was to inform his masters that none they sought would be given, that merely defeat would be their part. Adam’s voice was coarse, his fingers numb from both battle and song. And the knight had been drained to the point where only hope would keep them standing. They rested there, and prayed for the guidance so harshly needed. Then, without reflecting, they had ventured in again, bent on retrieving the guard.

    It had been their downfall. The certainty of enemies gone had lowered the proud knight’s vigilance, and they had allowed themselves to fall into the trap. Perhaps they should have run, perhaps they should have tried for the ruin doors, yet both were hardened in spirit and heart by their earlier success and the courage that drove one another on. The first wave was quickly dispensed off as both remained standing back to back, dropping each heretic that came to the ground bleeding. Yet then they came, the dreaded shadows called to life by the utterence of a mere word. They were surrounded by 6 of them, these foul creatures that lived for none but death: Shades. The knight had called upon Helm’s will to hold them back, yet it had been of no use. They had fought for their lives with the last grain of courage and strength that each could muster, until the darkness that bit their flesh came over them, draining the last drop of life away.

  • S

    [quick note left at the home of Shane and Bottesini, left on the dining table]

    _My love,

    However hard it grieves me, I must go. It pains me that I cannot take the time to even properly say goodbye, yet the blame upon myself weighs hard, and I must face this now.

    You will hear soon enough of what transpired in Norwick. I cannot find the strength to explain the occurings to you myself, I am barely even able to comprehend them. Yet I cannot turn away from it. After all, we stand as an example to those around us. What example would I be to hide from the very laws that I myself have been upholding for all these years?

    I trust that the rulings of Norwick will be fair and righteous. Until I can be heard, I will remain at their disposal in the Temple of Lathander. I bid you not to come there, you should not need to face me as such. Until this blame is justified, I am not worthy of your kiss or smile.

    May Helm guard you, my love, and keep you safely from harm.

    Yours in heart and faith,

    Shane._

  • S

    Journal Entry #60 – Under Pressure

    Treason, betrayal, mistrust. So much comes to me these days. News of Black Hand operations, approaches made by them to friends, allies, commoners… everyone. They seek the gem, and they make it certain that the whole of Jiyyd knows. With each account of harassment, with each reported spy, the pressure grows. I await now, alone in the bonds that I myself have entrusted upon me, expecting a dagger from any dark corner that I may pass. They try to severe the bonds that exists between those that I have come to see as allies in this. Yet they will fail. Their precious gem is in safety, and I alone bear the secret to it’s whereabouts. As such, it will remain.

    Through all this, the duty of the Order now rests upon me. I am almost happy that rebuilding it is taking my attention away from these matters, even if it is for but a short time. I have spoken with the other Temples, and through this, a new alliance is being forged, one ready and able to stand against that for which the Order was meant.

    I have taken a room in Peltarch for the coming weeks. Although it pains me to be away from home and heart, it allows me to focus on these matters for now, while I lie in wait of the Hand’s next move, pondering my own with care. I have become both the politician to forge alliances, and the general to determine the next move. Trusted spies keep me informed of what I need to know, while old relations are being called on to seek out new information. Now, in the darkest hour, I know who my allies are. The next move will soon unfold, the time is almost right. It must be plotted carefully, each step considered over and over again. It cannot fail. Now, I am grateful for Garran’s lessons of old.

  • S

    Journal Entry #59 – The Pieces Lost

    The Black Hand grows more threatening with each passing day. They have been able to regain their strength, and they now remind us all of their threat with an eagerness that is even greater than was expected of them. Twice already have they found me, trying to take by force what they could not otherwise. I still remain, yet I pray Helm grants me the strength to complete the duty the Order has been given. It saddens me greatly to have learned that Master Lao has fallen to their hand, having set the call of duty above anything else. We can but pray they do not hold the part he was sworn to safeguard, yet all indications tell us they do.

    The staff itself is lost. The Featherlights have fought bravely, their fierceness unwavering, yet they as well have failed. Ulmar, Molar… They now but live on in our memories as the tribe tries to regain its strength. I curse this Black Hand for every foul deed that they have already done. They can and will not succeed. It cannot be allowed.

    A thief in the night has however proven to be a fortunate encounter. A thief in my own house even. It was clear what he was searching for, yet he has been caught, and the information gained from him has proven to be most interesting. For the first time in years, we may once more be able to strike against these villains. And this time, we will not be alone. The Featherlights have stated their own already, they will strike against them as well for having raided their homes. This time, the Hand has gone too far.

  • S

    [private letter to Kanen Hightower]
    _Kanen,

    It has been 5 years now since we first met near the fires of Norwick, and that day still remains as vivid as the ones to follow. You have been ally to me, brother in both faith and arms, and friend where it was needed. To this end, I must admit that your request weighs heavy on my heart.

    I know of the troubles that weigh on yours in these dire times, as well as you know of mine. At times, our Lord asks of us to endure more than any one would bear to hold. You have stood against it time and again, and as such I do understand your pain. Yet I must urge you to steel yourself against it, and find your path in life once again.

    To this end, I have given your request deep consideration. To be honest, Kanen, it were words I would have rather not heard. Throughout these years, you have lead the Order wisely, and have been an inspiration to many of our brothers. I but pray that this action will not lower their vigilance. Yet perhaps you are right, and I have no right in disallowing you the chance to get your own affairs in order once again.

    I will indulge you in your request, and try to steer the Order along the path that first Alannia, and now yourself have set out. Yet I will do so only on one condition, Kanen, and with the same honor that you have offered me in asking this, I ask of you to indulge me in it as well. I will only accept until such time when you deem yourself able again to continue on the true path, fit to be in charge once again.

    We have much to discuss over this and other matters. Therefore I invite you to share a meal at my table, so that we can speak freely on this. Until then I remain, in faith, at your service. May Helm guide you, Kanen, and grant you strength.

    With respectful greetings,

    [signed]
    Shane Andryl_

  • S

    Return of the Black Hand

    With a loud clang the pitcher shattered against the wall, the water spilling all over. “Gods be damned woman!” Laus was clearly upset, his face red in anger and panic. The paladin tried to remain calm before the commoner, folding her arms in reply to his outburst.

    He had come to her a few moments before, requesting a moment of her time, as he had matters to discuss concerning the Order. Of course, she had followed him to his store, curious as to why the commoner would need the Order’s attention. It had become all too clear too soon. At first, he had been most welcoming, offering her a drink while they would speak, remaining polite as ever towards her. She had politely accepted, allowing the man to open the conversation as to what matters weighed on his heart.

    “…have each come into possession of two extraordinary gems…Now, the way I see it, your two groups have no need of such fine gems...Why don't you sell me that ruby and then use the coin for a greater cause?” The paladin was shocked by his direct question. The gems… clearly he spoke of the gems that were part of the Gendebar Staff. But how in Helm’s name could he know of this? It had been kept a secret, not even her own husband knew of it’s existence. And yet here this commoner spoke freely of it, and even blatantly asked her to sell it? It could not be, unless…

    ”Good, it seems the rumor is true…” The smirk on his face alarmed her instantly, but it was too late. He had noticed her clear unamusement with the question. Instantly, the paladin steeled herself, looking calmly upon the man in front of her. He could not be allowed to know the location of the gem, or the fact that it truly existed. Clearly, he had a good sense of judgment, and she would need to hold her calm lest all would be betrayed.

    ”You see…” The man continued, obviously eager enough to get his hands on the gem. ”I had a very special customer once… An old acquaintance of yours.” The paladin remained calm, wondering who on earth the man was speaking off. ”A Miss Adela Cain….A dear and sweet girl to say the least...And one of your companions when you found those precious gems...” Adela! The knight roared inward at the mention of the name. So her suspicions had been true, clearly the man was partly guessing, Adela could not in the least have known about this, she had not been there. Unless… With slight shock, the truth fell upon the knight. Adela must be in league with the Black Hand. And this proved that the Black Hand knew. They would all need to be extremely watchful again. Calmly, the knight looked at the man again, careful to not let any movement betray her inner self.

    ”So.”, he continued, ”I figure that there is a good opportunity for both of us to prosper…Why don't you sell me that ruby at a more than fair price and use the proceeds for some greater cause?” The paladin strained to remain calm, every vein urging her to strike this man down and put him in chains. Yet he knew, and as such, he could prove valuable. ”Keep your friends close, but your enemies even closer.” The lesson had been wise before, and most true here. The paladin showed a faint smile towards him, speaking calmly. ”I have nothing to sell you, sir, at least not that of which you speak.” The man looked at her in surprise, as if he had been expecting her to just hand it over in exchange for coin. 25000 was a vast amount offered, but not even all the coin in Faerun would be enough to repay for the damage done by letting it out of the Order’s guard. Gradually, his surprise turned to sheer anger as he continued to try and persuade her. Yet she would not respond to him, she would not give a single further indication that his suspicions were indeed true. His outrage though disturbed her greatly. Either the man was under extreme pressure, or there was another cause. Either way, he already knew too much.

    ”Leave my store! Get out now woman!” With a polite nod and a final greeting, the paladin turned to leave. The man muttered, his face red as he saw there was none to be gained. He had tried his best to learn more on the whereabouts of the gem, to get his hands on the gem itself, yet he had failed. A dark gleam appeared on her face as she closed the door behind her. The time for vigilance was at hand. She would need to warn the monastery soon.

  • S

    Nuts and Giants

    The night was still high when the paladin awoke, unable to sleep anymore. The thought of what was to be kept her awake more often than not these days. It was to pass soon, and she prayed with each passing day that the call to action would come. With a sigh she raised herself out of the bed, careful not to awaken her husband. She looked upon him a moment, a warm smile appearing on the ever stern facade. He had returned late, having been summoned by the City of Peltarch, and had been most weary. Gently, she gave him a light kiss on his cheek. ”Rest well this night, my love. May Helm watch over you while I am away.” With that, she turned out of the room, leaving him to whatever dreams he might be holding.

    She had tried her best not to show him the troubles that were within, but he knew it well. He knew her all too well… ”No more pain, no more tears” It had been the promise both had made years before, to not let anything come between them, however great it might be. It had been kept up to now, but the knight feared that it would soon be broken, when the final call to duty would come. A faint smile lingered as she pondered this. Her armor stood in front, the symbol of her Lord catching the light of the fireplace playfully. It had been the cause of what had kept them apart for so many times before. He had told her many times how he wished for the day that it would just remain there, when there would be no need to wear it anymore. Yet he knew, as much as she did, that such a day would only come with death.

    Careful not to make too much sound, the knight began to strap it on once more. Thoughtfully she allowed her gaze to linger upon the faintly crackling fire. A faint smile lingered as she pondered the years that had been between them, how they had stood against one another, how he had pleaded with her to take his life, and how they had grown to one another instead. Indeed, he knew her all too well, and although she knew his wishes, and knew how much they were her own, she was grateful for his support. She could not turn away from all that threatened these lands, just as much as he himself could, and they both knew it. They could but cherish the time that was granted, before yet another call to action would drive them away from home and hearth again. His heart was strong, his thoughts bent just as much on purging whatever might lurk in the shadows. In that she had not failed him. The promise was kept.

    The click of the clasp on her sword belt drew her out of her musings. More routine than anything else, she drew the fine blade, checking it for any irregularities. It was still as good as new, not a notch or crack to be seen. Bacelar had done a fine job. Her eyes drifted off to the sword against the wall, hung neatly above Helm’s shrine. Trivaenstel, the blade her father had granted her on her departure. It had never left it’s scabbard. Silent, the paladin gathered the small pack lying in the corner. The mighty sword that the giants had raised against her before lay above it, still stained, but in fairly good condition. She would have to bring it to the smith soon to have it repaired. After all, it never hurt to have a second weapon at ready, especially not with the Orcs that were so near the town. One could not afford to loose or break a sword and stand defenseless when battle was upon them. And it would need a scabbard as well, the original one had been too stained to be of any further use. A trip to Peltarch would be justified once more. With that thought, the knight set off to the road once again. The sun rose slowly above the horizon, basking the woods in front in a yellowish taint. The guards had reported no Orcs near the town either, so she allowed her sword to remain sheathed for a while longer, listening to the sounds of the forest as it slowly awakened to yet another day. Indeed, it would be a beautiful one.

    ”Perhaps the Doctor will find it a fine day as well” She pondered the thought for a moment, curious as to whether the surgeon in Ormphur would finally succeed or not. It seemed his task was meant to be full of failure, for the other night he had come to Jiyyd, asking their aid in once more retrieving some of his precious ingredients. Of course, they had been willing to help, and of course it had lead them to danger again.

    The quest had lead them deep into the Giant’s lands. Jaroo had not been willing to go alone, and he had been most prudent in this. Zak was always willing to join on any adventure, so he readily came along. Walkman’s tracking skills had also proven to be most reliable, and even Sussuro had joined, although the knight suspected him of having been more interested in the possibility of finding new trees than anything else. And then there had been Johan, “Master Errand Runner”. The paladin suppressed a chuckle at the thought. Obviously scared to the bone, he had swallowed his own fears and had insisted on coming along with them, to carry their bags and share a little of the adventure. She had tried to talk some sense into him, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Somehow, the knight felt nothing but respect for the brave little hin. They had all set off together on the very same road she treaded upon now, straight towards the Spire. And they had all returned, weary from battle with the Giants, but in good health none the less. All but one. Jaroo’s trusted companion, the bear Laika, had lost it’s life there trying to defend him. She felt his grief all too well. Yet the task had been accomplished, the ingredients found, and now once more, the Doctor was able to try his luck again.

    It had been good to travel with old friends once more. The day had already been mostly spent with Zak, and she had enjoyed every moment of it. He had been wanting to go near the Gypsy Camp to search for some fine wood, so she had decided to accompany him along the way. After all, spiders there were many, and the woods around the Camp were dangerous even for the brave hin. It had been the right choice as well, for a few hours later they had found themselves in battle for their lives with the Ettercaps that frequented those parts. It had been Helm’s strength that had kept the both of them alive against them, and the fiendish hounds that had found their way into the woods as well. If Zak had gone alone, he would surely have died. Atel would have never forgiven her. She smiled softly as the vision of the hin faded once more. If ever she had a good friend in these lands, it would surely be him. He had promised to send Tanya over to their house again soon, and she was already looking forward to seeing the child once again.

    The paladin looked up a moment as the first peaks of the Giantspire doomed in the distance. The sun was already high. If she made haste, she would make it to Peltarch before noon.

  • S

    Journal Entry #58 - The Lurking in the Deep (continued)

    I have conferred with sir Eram on the matter, and there may yet be a way to banish that which lurks so near. Yet the task will not be without danger. Eram has divined a link between ourselves and this being, brought into life by the same evil that had before taken ours. Although even the mere thought of somehow being connected to this thing shivers me to the core, it might prove beneficial. If it is there, it can be used, and from what Eram has told me, it will be. It is the perfect conduit through which Helm’s might can strike back at this being. We will return there, that much is certain, it cannot be allowed to roam freely and continue to do it’s work here. I can but wonder what my role in this will be, and pray that Helm grants us the victory so strongly needed. He is strong within us, I see that clearly now. May His strength and ours be able to overcome.


  • Great stuff, Shane. Very interesting, well written story.

  • S

    The Test of Faith: Continued

    She awoke in strange surroundings, almost as if in a dream. Slowly she regained her senses, getting a bearing of her whereabouts. Her sword and shield were still in hand, clenched tightly. She sheathed the blade and lowered her helmet. Slowly, the fog cleared in front of her. The wind played joyfully through her hairs, brustling the treeline, yet she felt nothing of it. Suddenly, a figure doomed out of the mists, fully clad in plate, standing solemnly in front her. The paladin understood instantly, dropping to a knee, lowering her eyes away from the appearance. “My Lord”

    A loud, harsh voice boomed through her head, coming from all around. “Your time has come to prove your faith to me, both in will and body…” The words crushed her instantly, and it took all her strength to remain as she was. ”To prove” She had been failing, she knew it well. And now Helm had called her forth. The paladin remained silent as the voice continued.

    “A great injustice occured ten years ago in this land that has damaged my following…It was in this land that my watchful clergy acted less than vigilant and allowed a Banite, a so-called Dread Lord to corrupt the Guantlet of the Watchful...” A feeling of anger overwhelmed her as the words came to her. She wanted to jump up, call out, act! Yet she remained immobile as the voice continued, unwavering.

    She listened, and learned. She learned of how the Gauntlet had been held securely in Waterdeep, of how it had been symbol to His virtues for ages, of how it had been allowed to be shown around the land in an effort to inspire faith towards Helm in His followers once more, and of how it’s guardians failed in their vigilance as the Banites took it from their guard, and was lost. Shame crept over her once again, as if the knight herself was responsible for what had occurred. She listened on, her eyes still downcast, and learned of how the Gauntlet was recovered again by miners in the Giantspire 5 years ago, and returned to the faithful. The voice spoke of how the Gauntlet was corrupted by the very evil that had taken it, it’s virtues gone, and of how it enslaved the hearts of those that held it towards the darkness of Bane. The task brought forth was clear. She was to retrieve the Gauntlet as it would be passing through Ormphur this very day, before it would reach the gates of Jiyyd, and it’s Temple. Faithful were lost to it’s evil embrace with every waning day, and Helm’s might was weakening towards it. Such could not be allowed. The Gauntlet was to be returned to His stead, and destroyed. The surroundings blurred once more as His final words hammered through her head. ”Do not fail me!”

    ”Death before dishonor” The paladin steeled her heart as she felt herself succumbing to the darkness of sleep once again. ”Your wish is my command, my Lord. I shall succeed in thy bidding, or find death.” With that determination, she closed her eyes, awaiting what was to pass.

    A moment later, trees doomed up from the distance again. As her senses adjusted once more to her new surroundings, she found herself on the road to Ormphur. Instinctively she drew her blade again, looking out into the distance. There was no shame, no defeat, only determination. The task was clear, and it would be done, or she would fall in trying. The thought was ripped from her mind swiftly as she heard heavy footsteps approaching from further up the road.

    ”Who goes there?” A stern voice called out to her as she noted the figures in front. The man that spoke was clad in plate, darkened, but Helm’s mark still clearly visible. In the darkness of the night, she could just make out the ornate box that he was carrying. 2 men flanked him, acolytes and guards no doubt. Calmly, the knight replied to the question posed. ”I am Shane Andryl, sirs. Paladin to Helm, the Watcher. The man showed signs of relief at her words, as if pleased to come across a fellow of the faith, ready to escort them safely to Jiyyd. Yet all her senses warned her of the darkness that lay deep in their hearts. Without any further though, she addressed her reasons for being there. ”I am here to take that what you carry, and bring it to safety.” The man showed clear surprise, and began to protest to her words. ”Lady Shane…You must be mistaken...We serve Helm, and walk in the glory of his light. It is my duty to protect this precious Gauntlet and will not let it out of my sight.” The paladin remained calm, her eyes steeled upon the group. ”I am here to make certain it remains in safety, not in the hands of those that have been mislead to His true meaning”. The man clearly became upset now, sneering at her words, accusing her of jealousy towards the possession of the Gauntlet. He addressed to her that it would be displayed in Jiyyd for the week to come, for all to behold. It could not be allowed.

    ”You will not. The Gauntlet is not what you believe it to be. 't Has become a tool against our Lord.” She tried to put reason into their hearts. Perhaps these men were not yet beyond salvation. Perhaps they were strong enough to break free from the Gauntlet’s corrupting grasp. The man called out against her, anger overwhelming him as he saw she would not stand aside. ”Heretic! The Gauntlet embodies all the virtues of our god! Power! Wealth! Strife!” His words came as a shock to her. How could this be? How could one of strong faith, as clearly this man was, fall so low as to even forget the basics of what the Heavenly Guardian deemed right? Determined, she clenched the hilt of her blade tighter. These men would either succumb and repent, of face judgement in the afterlife. Such was the will of Helm…

    One final time she tried to reason with them, explaining their error, allowing them the chance to see the light once again. Yet it was to no avail. They had fallen too far into the darkness of Bane’s corruption. He called her a liar, a pauper unknowing of Helm’s true glory, a jealous brigand… She took the insults calmly, standing firm, the look in her eyes telling them she would not fall and stand aside in this. Angered, he turned to the acolytes behind him, obviously ordering them to strike against her. With a curt nod, she donned her helmet, ready for the battle that was to be. She knew her thoughts to be right the instant she heard the prayers called forth. Helm’s name was all absent, the prayers dark and twisted to Bane’s dominion. She noted the plate-clad man hiding behind the two, using them as shields to his own. With a scowl, she lunged forward, blocking her mind against the dark whispers that the two called forth. One by one, they fell in Helm’s name, until she stood before the man...

    The paladin halted, her blade still at ready, and looked upon the coward in front of her. With a scowl, she challenged him to duel. He accepted readily, claiming it would be her last, that Helm was at his side. She knew the lies within it, and wary for treachery, mace on sword clammered as the battle began. Night turned into the day as the battle raged forth, hours passed as blow after blow was struck. All she had ever trained for came to use, as she needed all her skill to dodge his blows. Time after time he invoked the might of his new-found lord. With each of his cries for aid her blade struck hard against him, only to see the wounds healed again as Bane’s wrath rained upon her. Yet she did not fall. With a carefully placed blow she knocked him off his feet, allowing him the chance once more to surrender to Helm and leave the path of darkness he had set upon. Yet even this final act of mercy was to no avail. He was too far gone, and lunged upon her again with a feral growl. The paladin continued the battle, not caring for the apparent signs of fatigue that slowly came with each passing strike. The blade grew heavy in her hands, the armor started to grow tiresome, yet she remained standing, mustering all her strength. She would not fall against Bane’s anger. With a loud cry, she heaved the blade into the sky once more, and hammered it down upon him. He fell down as the blade struck home, blood pouring from his many wounds. He did not stand again… Weary and weakened from the battle, she lowered her blade, removing her helmet to allow the man a last sight on the face of his victor. With his dying breath, he took hold of the box, clutching it tightly against his heart. Then, his hands fell limp, as life sipped away from him. With a sad expression, the paladin uttered a prayer towards the salvation of the man’s soul.

    She knelt down to take the box he had coveted so, as she noted her own armor. It was shred and dented in more places than she could imagine, Helm’s symbol dull and scratched beyond recognition. Her shoulders and chest were blackened, scorched from the heavenly fires that he had called forth upon her, and bloodstains were apparent everywhere. Yet there was no time to rest. She bit away the pain that slowly ached her body, and grasped the box tightly. Suddenly, it began to radiate a great warmth, and light started seeping through it’s cracks. She held onto it tightly as the box slowly crumbled to dust, leaving the gauntlet exposed in her hands. It felt cold to the touch, yet a sudden warmth came over her, filling her heart to the core, as if Helm himself was pleased. Then, a soothing voice called out from beyond, echoing through her head.

    ”You can become the greatest Paladin of Helm this land has ever known…” The words came softly, inviting, and for a moment she pondered them. Then she realized the warnings that had been given, that the true power of the Gauntlet bore none but corruption. With a stern voice, she called out in reply. ”My desire is only to serve, not to seek glory.” A sudden strength came over her as the words were spoken, the feelings of tiredness and pain fading away as the voice continued. ”Helm's power will grant you anything you wish through me…Continue my tour of this land so that I can show others the light of Helm...It is your duty to serve Helm in this way. This is only a taste of what Helm will grant you if you continue my travels around the lands.” The paladin did not waver. ”My duty is to guard against the dangers that lie ahead, to be vigilant against the darkness. To follow His will. And His will dictates otherwise.” “Helm will grant you wisdom, courage, and ability…” “Helm grants me all that I require now. I seek no more.” The paladin felt empty as the strength granted faded away, leaving her weaker than she had ever been before. Yet she clenched her teeth, trying in her best effort to shield her mind from the whispers within. With a luring tone, the voice continued.

    ”Helm will grant you gold to build a church and greater following in his name.” With the words spoken, she felt her purse become heavy, bursting with the gold within. She shrugged, tossing it aside on the ground. ”Tis not His will.” “Think of all the evil you can banish in Helm's glory with all this power.It is Helm's will…” The paladin took a deep breath, pondering the words a moment, almost finding the truth in them. Yet somewhere deep inside, she knew them to be lies. ”It is Helm's will that we do so to our own efforts, as we are, as it is. Not to seek power for our own, but to stand against it. We serve to protect. And in that He grants us his grace as He deems fit, not as we would wish.”

    The soothing voice faded, and a dark, loathing voice called out against her, forebiding in tone and manner. ”You have made more enemies than you can ever dream about this night Lady Shane! You will meet a gruesome fate soon…” With those words, she felt the warmth fading, leaving her weakened, tired to the point of near tremble, alone. Once more, her visions blurred before her. Too weak to struggle against it, she fell down.

    Slowly, she regained her senses, finding herself once more in the strange surroundings she had been called to before. The visage of Helm appeared before her, and weary, she dropped to her knee once again, eyes downcast. ”Your wish has been my command. I have what You have called for…” A booming voice ached her mind once again, drowning out all other sounds. ”I have witnessed your deeds for this day. Your courage was never in question in facing my fallen followers. Now I have no questions about your will to follow the light of my path.” With a single motion of his hand, he commanded her to lay down the Gauntlet before him. The paladin remained kneeled, placing the Gauntlet in front, silent. A bright light began emitting from it, until it erupted in a blazing flame… it was no more. Once more, the voice boomed. ”Your faith, courage, and will have restored my faith in my followers of this land. In addition, your actions have proven you worthy as one of my true, loyal followers.” The paladin remained silent, unwavering. ”My light will always be at your side and you will represent my virtues to the people of these lands…As such, you will always display the light that symbolizes my path... The armor is a symbol of your allegiance to me and our way of life...It symbolizes that you represent everything pure in the virtues of duty, honor, and loyalty...” With a move of his hand, the dents and shreds faded, the plates warping back into form. The sooth fell down as a bright shine came over it. Still, the paladin remained silent, lowering her head even more in respect to her Lord. ”Now…Let us remove any stench of Bane from you...” A sudden warmth once more filled the paladin’s heart. All feelings of pain and weakness vanished as the many wounds she still bore closed and strength taken was returned. Then, a sudden feeling of tiredness came over her, and as much as she willed it, she could no longer remain conscious. The lands blurred and faded into darkness, as she heard her final words speak out in the distance. ”I live only to serve, as you command, my Lord”

    The knight woke up in the familiar surroundings of her own home, no idea of how much time had come to pass. The light of day brightly peered through the shutters. She rose again, uncertain of whether all had been but a dream. Yet somehow, she knew it to have been true. The armor placed carefully on it’s stand was proof to it. Solemnly, she kneeled down before the shrine dedicated to her Lord, a sense of pride and loss of shame within her. She knew now that He had not forsaken her, that He was strong within. She would not fail again. The path was clear before her, the task as of yet undone.

  • S

    The Test of Faith: Prelude

    Honor, Loyalty, Vigilance, Protection.

    The words had not left the Paladin’s mind in the days that had passed, and with each step she doubted herself to them. The sun was slowly setting over the Norwick gates into the Nars. She paused a moment to behold it, a faint smile lingering as she stood silent.

    ”A knight is sworn to valor. His heart knows only virtue. His blade defends the helpless. His might upholds the weak. His word speaks only truth. His wrath undoes the wicked.”

    The old code was all that had kept her upright. A sense of failure came upon her as the words boomed around her mind. ”His blade defends the helpless” She scoffed lightly, slowly watching the sun move behind the horizon. Her blade had been there, ready to strike against all that might bring harm to her guard. It had been to no avail. Life had been granted by the very same evil they had set out to destroy, and the blame weighed hard. “You owe me” A sudden chill came over her as the voice boomed once again, darker than anything she had ever heard before. It was true.

    She looked upon the road ahead, unknowing of where it would lead her this night. Jiyyd seemed distant. She had no urge to return to it. “Kanen should have just left me there” She rubbed her shoulder a moment, where the Orcish Destroyer had planted the final blow just the day before, shrugging away the thought as swiftly as it came. Her time had not come yet, and she knew that well. The task was not yet completed. “Death before dishonor” The irony in it was all too clear to her now. Death had come first, then the dishonor. ”His wrath undoes the wicked” She banished the feeling out again, steeling herself once more. Eram had been wise in his words as always. It was the reason that she was still alive this day, why Helm had allowed such disgrace to become. The evil was not dispensed of yet. The task remained undone.

    With a sigh, she raised her helmet, a faint smile showing lightly over the troubled facade for just an instant. At least in that they had not failed. The Trollish warlord that had held it as war bounty had been a formidable foe, yet it had been overcome, it’s soldiers destroyed and the deaths of innocent commoners avenged. They had raided a small wayside hostel, slaughtering everyone like cattle. Now they were gone, and the little girl, Grace, was safely in the care of the good doctor in Ormphur. The poor child had been the only one to escape the Troll’s claws. The paladin shivered a moment at the thought of what might have happened to the girl should herself, her husband and Jaroo not have passed by for that small errand.

    She restrained herself from releasing a light chuckle at the thought of the errand. To gather some special kind of nuts in the woods to the east of Ormphur, so that the doctor could finish his special kind of potion. It seemed silly, but it had been a nice diversion from the darkness that was over her, and it had allowed her to spend some time with the man she had allowed to be her husband. Too little of that had been already. The trip had been eventful at the least, as many creatures prowled in the region, but the ingredients requested had been swiftly recovered. Then, they had come upon a trail of bodies. A woman had come brushing through the treeline, life failing her an instant too soon as the wounds she had born were too great. The paladin had rushed forth to her aid, but it had been too late. It was then the three of them had decided to venture on and seek out whatever had been slaughtering those poor souls in such manner, letting them to rot. It had soon become apparent that a Trollish warband was the source, and that the small hostel had been the home of those that lay scattered on the road. They had tried to flee them, in vain.

    Enraged by the slaughter, the three of them had lunged out against the Trolls, leaving none standing, and burned their corpses so that they would not rise again. They had searched the stables, sheds and the main house for any trace of the beasts. That’s when they found the girl, scared to death, in hiding under her bed as Trolls stomped across the room. The small girl was saved, and in the light of the burning hostel, the dead were gathered and granted their final peace. The good doctor had been kind enough to take the child in as his apprentice. He would care for her well-being, the paladin knew that well. And neither of them would be alone again.

    The smile faded as swiftly as it had come as the paladin donned the helmet. At least in that they had not failed. She looked behind herself at the closed gates of Norwick, then drew both blade and shield, ready for the road. She had to remain strong and vigilant, continue her duties to the best of her abilities. Helm willed it so.

    Yet it was difficult… The paladin walked on, deep in thought. The lone fool bandit had apparently watched her and seen his chance. She was drawn back to reality by the clang of his steel on her armour. It had been his sole mistake to underestimate his opponent this much. The paladin sighed again, looking at her hand a moment that had thrust her blade deep in his chest. It was well-trained, and the action had been instinctive. If at all, she was trained to bring death. “No… to oppose those who wish to do so, to protect the weak” With that, she shrugged away the thought, turning to continue on her way. Yet the knight could not move. Her vision was failing her, her surrounding blurring away before her. She clenched her teeth, trying to shrug off the feeling. It couldn’t be poison, the bandit had not drawn her blood at all. Or had he?

    She tried to step forward, but her legs were heavy, as if the whole world suddenly rested upon her. With a groan she plunged her blade down, leaning on it in an effort to stay upright. Everything around her was turning. A familiar shape came rushing down the road as she willed herself to remain standing. Anakore… through the fog before her eyes she could barely make out his face. She raised a hand to him, trying hard not to let him see how hard she was struggling. The last the paladin could feel were her legs failing her as she hit the ground. Then, all turned to darkness.