3. Flashbacks and Writings... Stories of Ronan.

Flashbacks and Writings... Stories of Ronan.


  • A New Power

    I believe that Peltarch has won. With the destruction of N'jast machines, they are weak. Obviously, they know this.. as they scurried out of the city like rats, leaving some of thier own behind to die or be taken prisoner.

    Yet I do not feel relieved. A mistake was made, and someone used something they did not understand. Though it completely obliterated our enemy, a new enemy has come to replace them. This new threat is even worse. It makes me feel as if we're no better than those N'jastians, no better than the grand marshal… who used a great evil to aid in her conquest, but in the end, some of my allies did the same.. accidentally. I had really wished they listened to my advice on just letting unknown artifacts sit still and quiet. Apparently my advice was not important enough to them.

    At least, for now, I can not worry about being trapped within the city. For a while, I was.. and I did not know if I would ever see the one I love again. I know I will now, at least before we make our move against those demons.

    As the dust settled in Peltarch, I have discovered more hidden talents. My old strength, from long ago, has returned, but in a new form. The shadows no longer even are available to me. It seems they have given up on me, figuring me a lost cause. Now I know that I have control over my power, for the most part. In my dreams, I hear whispers.. whispers of temptation, of glory, of power. It is as if my old self speaks to me, desperate now to be the one in control... it is a battle that my old self is losing.

    The succubus did the same. Saying Ronan of Mask had great potential, that that path was a path to unspeakable power. More power does not entice me as it once did. I just wish the strength for defense of myself, and those who are close to me. Occasionally, I welcome a challenge of my talents... but who does not? Does not a great cook find the best and most difficult recipies so that they may serve something exquisite? Does not a carpenter build difficult and custom designs of furnatures and such? Ah'ria worries I will get myself killed for seeking challenges.. so I shall let them come to me on chance.. for it is often trouble finds me in these lands.


  • Truth

    For many days I have fought, and I am exausted. I used to think my power was something big, something that could destroy any enemy set before me. Though, in this war, it can barely scratch the surface of the "bad guys."

    A few days before the main siege on Peltarch, I happened upon something seemingly at the right moment. Kara had her throat slit by some woman just as I was riding up. I couldn't let my old friend die, but I should've. She was saved by the very thing, long ago, that she strived to destroy. Evil is on her side. There is no saving her… she deserves death, and it will be given to her. This does not sadden me, but should it? I mean... I keep friends who do not plant a knife in my back. Those who betray me will regret it. Her sob stories mean nothing to me now.

    Where old friends are lost, new ones are gained. It seems Ah'ria is absolutely right about her lessons in balance. The woman who slit Kara's throat, Sierra. It seems after that incident, we've been paling around. She is a bit insane though.

    Even so, I wish this had turned out differently. I wish none of this had happened. I wish that everything was normal.. that there was no war, no mass plot of destruction by someone with a little too much power in their hands. I want the old days, where there was the occasional villian, but they would always be defeated... and then we would laugh and joke about it. Friends were friends, enemies were enemies. There were no suspicions, no doubts of each other. We were all on the same side, all fighting to repel whatever darkness that wanted to hurt us.

    But this, this is no mere adventure. Narfell will never be the same when this ends. I just hope I've the strength to survive and protect those I care for.

    _After writing the entry in his journal, whistling is heard in the air above… a boulder landing not ten yards away from his place in the commons of Peltarch. It was almost as if the enemy was waiting for him to write down his thoughts before attacking.

    Tucking his journal away, Ronan picks up his staff, rising slowly from his bench.. the tip of his staff glowing faintly as he makes his way to the sieged gates.._


  • Another decision I made.

    Kara escorted me to see the N'jast queen, and on the way back.. I decided to confront her. She is still the same as I knew her before, but with a sad view on the world. She lacks faith in everything, even close friends. Still, I did not wish her dead.

    As we stopped to talk about it, I warned her of my intentions to subdue her, which was probably stupid, but I am no longer a backstabber, or some dishonorable fool. After a few words, she charged with haste, and took me down while I was caught off guard. I dont blame her for doing that… she has a job, and cannot risk being beaten... it was smart on her part.

    Either way, I have failed. I was too weak to stop it. To save one friend from death.. when likely, many more will perish in this mess. Now, I am completely useless. I will never gain access to the queen again... now, some other morons who know nothing of diplomacy will take my place, and all will go to the hells.

    I expected to be successful, to save her. The good guys always win, right? Am I not a good guy? Such stupid questions.. I know this world is full of darkness that takes advantage of others... and most of the time, it is the darkness that spreads, instead of the light.

    I am surprised I am not dead, and confused that she did not remove me from her list of possible 'enemies.' Instead, I wake up at the Kelemvor temple.

    This incident makes me think on faith.. and how hard it is to keep. Even the most pious of individuals can falter, and even fall. The pain they experience is just overwhelming, and darkness broods in their hearts. I have seen it too many times now... and for some, I was the cause of that darkness. Once, it happened to me. It is easy to fall, easy to hate. I know none, save for myself, that have come back up from the dark to fight for a greater good. Hopefully I will see some rise up, and none others fall.

    It was a bad decision...


  • Death and Destruction. Difficult Decisions.

    Jiyyd is now lost. With all my power I defended it as best I could. It wasn't enough. I died, I sacrificed, I spilt blood.. and now I find out that it was probably all for nothing.

    There were betrayals.. or was it really a betrayal? It felt like it. I didn't understand, and frankly.. I didn't care for the excuses. Of all people, I should know about that, though never has it happened to me. I used to be the one turning my back, or putting a knife in those who turned their back on me. Now I know how it feels. I wasn't trusted by one who I thought was a close friend. Pity.

    That is another matter. Now, I find myself helping in the mission of those who destroyed Jiyyd. Perhaps more will turn their back on me because of this, but I cannot ignore what they have shown me. A voice at the back of my mind says that I am being deceived, but I ignore it. Perhaps I am too weak to just accept the fact that I can be betrayed again.. I don't want to believe it will happen, I really don't. So I continue on, risking it all to find the real truth, the reason that these people are so hells bent on stopping this new threat, that they'd overrun a small farming village.

    Who can I trust? Who is actually on my side? I know that Ah'ria is.. she calms me in a way, as if she had cast a spell. She tells me of balance, and that everything happens for the balance. My decisions, one way or the other, are all part of it. I just hope they are more of a benefit, than a hinderance.

    Only time will tell.


  • War

    So it has come to it. The beginning of a war.

    I feel as if we are all but just little pawns put in place by forces that observe. Playing on our paranoia and mistrust of each other, feeding off of it. If I were the man I was ten years ago, I would be overjoyed by this. So much simplier to not choose a side. To remain on the sidelines until someone wins, and then you join their cause.

    This reminds me of what the succubus was trying to do. Taunt me, threaten me, make me feel sorry for her. Anything she can do to get me to be her little puppet, anything she can do to manipulate me. Playing on my so called "weaknesses." I admit that she is pissing me off so much that I nearly wanted to explode. But I cannot show that, no.. I must be defiant.. make her to break first. She probably already knows this, or is sneaking into my room while I sleep to read these most personal thoughts. Funny how these people and things find out about my past so easily, when I've only told three or four people.

    Aside from that, I have been feeling something build within me. It is different from when the power in my veins flows more quickly. It feels as if I can almost create something, bring something to life… a sort of entity. One who watches in the corners of my mind, yet is waiting to fully reveal itself. Each time I use my magic in large amounts, I feel its presence come nearer.

    Whatever it is, I hope it is not against me.


  • The Escort

    Narfell is now torn by paranoia, suspicions and conspiracies. The only two areas that seem relatively sane are Jiyyd and Norwick.

    The Gypsies have locked themselves in their camp, and have shunned everyone but their own from entering. Their glaring eyes look upon everyone.. thinking them a potential enemy… thinking them guilty of attacks against their own. It saddens me to see this. I grew fond of the foresty scenery the Gypsy camp had to offer. This simple luxery I can enjoy no longer, since the Rawlins are full of things wanting to murder me, and well... the Gypsy camp is closed off. There are small pockets of peaceful areas, yes. But I prefer wide open spaces, where I can enjoy the sounds of the forest as I walk through it unhindered.

    Peltarch. They seem to grow more corrupted. There are still good individuals there, such as Mariston and Captain Neverith. However, I feel the percentage of corruption is greater than that of decent individuals. I fear that the city will sink, but I hope it does not.

    Jiyyd currently has armies at their doorstep, demanding that they be allowed through. The reasons are too lengthy to put here, but the Jiyyd council decided to evacuate the civilians. I was there when the caravans of innocents were moving to a safer location..

    ...but the trip would not be peaceful. Groups of wildmen attacked our flanks along the way. I burned them. I showed them what true fear was. I felt a certain hate as I did these things.. their axes swung at the women, and the children who were there. A few died, a few we were unable to protect in time. This made me feel as I did back when I was in the Sails... back when my magic was in control of me, instead of the other way around. The emotions flow through me, to my fingers, and out upon those I wish dead. Raw power. Force of will.

    I cannot let this all get to me. I must keep a cool head, for if I don't.. I will surely be destroyed.


  • Portals to Hell

    I had felt something was terribly wrong. My connection with the weave told me that an immense power was being channeled. I was in the nars pass at the time, and it felt as if the mehir stones on the ridge were being activated. I went to investigate.

    What I found was bright lights there, which seemed to be a portal of some sort… and it was. Several slaad poured through it. I fought and killed a few, but after the first wave, a second wave came, and I was easily overwhelmed. Black slaadi tossing death magics, along with several lesser ones. I was alone at the time, save for Tiain, who had told me earlier she wanted to die... so, for the most part, I was alone.

    Somehow, I managed to get back up after being bombarded by angry Slaadi fists. I decided to leave then, and I dragged Tiain's corpse through the pass toward Norwick. It was during this slow trek I heard alarms sound near Jiyyd, in the Silver Valley... I went in that direction instead.

    I dropped Tiain's corpse off at the healer's there, then headed to the valley, feeling a bit weak from my lost battle. I ran into Gears, who seemed worried, and troubled. It's not a good sign when Gears looks like that. He had mentioned the shadows screamed at him, and that the mehir in the valley spat out Slaadi. Though that portal was shut down by a dispel. Gears then reminded me of the mehir near Norwick, so the both of us ran there. It felt as if the world was ending.

    We made it to the Norwick stones, and there, we met up with a few others... more of those frog creatures poured through, a large group of them. This time, I was prepared... I tossed wave after wave of fire into the mass, while the others held them off. Eventually, we were successful.

    Yes, all was going to hell. Someone, whoever gets this journal off of me when I pass, may know that Narfell is full of these mehir stones. A group of us went to the next, and that's when I experienced something disturbing.

    The portal there sucked us in, and we ended up in the Hells.

    Heat. Nothing but heat and the cries of pain and agony. Whispers of the damned souls, begging for us to help them. Before us was a massive gate... which we approached slowly.

    As we examined it, the gates flung open.. and there, stood a towering devil. A pit fiend. It attacked, and unfortunately... I was in the front of the group..

    It's claws slashed down and struck me before I had time to react. My own blood splattered out of my chest as I fell to the ground... where it then slashed me again. My vision blurred by the blood pouring into my eyes. I tried to muster a chant for a spell, but no... the fiend made one final strike with a stomp of its foot. I felt and heard my bones crack and break, the pain overwhelming. Thinking me dead, it moved on to strike at my companions..

    ...but I was not yet dead. I lay there, in agony... my thoughts drifted, as everything had slowed down. Ah'ria.. she doesn't know I'm here.. I will never return to her... I am going to die in Hell, and she will not know what happened... she will be alone to wonder. My companions would share the same fate... I knew they could not hope to challenge a pit fiend. Saddness overwhelmed my pain. I never even had a chance to say goodbye..

    "Snowtop!"

    I heard, as I felt arms around me. My gaze still flooded with my own blood..

    "Ging'…. healin'....!"

    Those were the next words I could make out. Suddenly, I felt my wounds closing. Painful as it was, the pain quickly faded as the wounds completely closed with the combined efforts of my companions.

    There above me was Gears. He looked extremely frightened. Though it was a face I was glad to see.

    I survived somehow… and we figured out a way to get out of that place. Even after that experience, I was determined to shut down the remaining mehir stones... which I and several others did, but not without heavy resistance..

    Things are getting worse.. I fear for my friends, and the one I love. Hopefully, we can all unite and quel this storm... for now, I must visit Ah'ria, and tell her what happened.


  • ((As a sort of kudos to the DMs for the B8 finale that is happening, these next stories will be Ronan's point of view of the events he experiences in it. Enjoy))

    Taint

    What I saw when I entered the chamber, was this massive spider. The size of two houses, stacked on one another. Of course, I had fought many sinister things before, and I knew that sometimes size didn't even matter when it came to my magic.

    At first, it resisted, until it's defenses weakened, and I was able to hit it's shell with my spells. It seemed to be an easy fight, and the queen was going down quickly. Our combined efforts were proving enough to take down this massive creature.

    But that was the least of our problems. The Queen called upon probably hundreds of her children, and swarmed us. I'm not really sure what happened. All I know is, that I tossed fireball after fireball into that mass of insects. That was not enough to halt their advance. I was forced to turn and run back.. most of my spells had been spent on the Queen herself. When I turned to look back to the fray, I could see none of our front line fighters. Just a mass of spider legs, and the taunting screams of those tiny voices the tainted spiders made. With them, was the Queen.

    I had wondered where Gears was at first. If he was swallowed by that mass, he was surely dead. So I ran closer to get a better look. All I saw was a few of our party were running back. I was invisible at the time, so I had little to fear except trampling of the insects. I heard screams… screams that did not come from the spiders, but from our own group. Blood splattered on the ground, trails of it leading outside the main cavern chamber.

    I thought we were all going to die then.

    I saw no sign of Gears, no corpse. That made me realize that he had hidden in time before the bugs swarmed. The only one I saw there, was Kara. Her armor bloodied and dented, but she still fought on. At this point, I was out of magic... most of it spent weakening the Queen considerably. I fumbled for whatever scrolls I had on me, whatever protections I could offer, and cast them upon her while concealed. Then, I remembered I had this dragon's fire breath drink. So I drank it, and then I spit flames from my mouth onto the insects.

    During the battle, I saw a bolt from a crossbow hit the queen in the head, I didn't know who it came from, and that is when she fell... though there were still a swarm of her children to deal with.

    I continued to breath fire upon the bugs while Kara fought them off. One of the bugs grew wise and darted at me, which I promptly concealed myself again. It then turned its attention back to Kara.

    There was nothing I could do, no magic to be cast... so I dived in, with just my sword and silk shirt. I figured that if everyone was to die, I would do it with them. So I stabbed at some of them from behind, until eventually, there was nothing but silence.

    It was over.

    My hands. They did not stop shaking. My body was cold. I was shivering.. there was literally not a drop of magic left within me. And as the adrenaline died down, I slumped to the floor in exaustion. That is when I saw Gears, who seemed to be all right. Good thing, since I am supposed to make sure he doesn't die.

    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another on the ground. It was Lyte. Kara was standing over her, seemingly checking if she was all right.

    "Is she dead?" I asked.

    Kara responded with one word, "Completely."

    This battle was one of my greatest challenges... and it is only the beginning of the storm.


  • Things have been going well enough for me. Two admirers gone, the other is too weak to do anything about it. At least I need not worry about that anymore.

    We've found time to see each other, Ah'ria and I. That is a blessing, since we have been at our busiest currently. I try to prevent catastrophe happening within Norwick, which is proving my greatest challenge yet. I prefer an opponent I can see out in the open, who will face me. That will not likely happen in this war. I have to actually think, which makes my head hurt. Instead of spell flinging, I am travelling from place to place, talking, planning, trying to convince people of things… gods it is such a headache. Maybe I should've stayed a freelance mage, and be more like Gears, who avoids responsibility... that would make things so much easier. Also, folks wouldn't really count on me to do these things... but maybe that is something I like? Something I need? To be counted on, to be trusted. Certainly that is better than being a mistrusted baffoon that I was in the past.

    Either way, I believe a lot of people are going to die. I just hope I have enough power to help prevent most of these deaths.

    On another note, I've noticed that villians lately don't seem to want to stay dead. Even after burning and beheading the corpse... it is really getting annoying.


  • _Present Day..

    He felt something cold and sharp against his throat. Slowly, his eyes opened from his slumber… and he saw a figure standing above him, black in clothing, a smirk on its face.

    "Wake up, sleeping beauty."

    Glancing down at what was against his throat, Ronan soon realized that it was a knife. Dark grey eyes peered up at the stranger again. glaring.

    "Not happy to see me, aww.."

    The figure stepped away, sitting down on the chair near the bed, idly playing with the knife..

    "You and I need to talk, lad.."

    Ronan sat up, eyeing the man on the chair. A human man, clad in dark leathers, a hood over his head, and that ever-present smirk on his face.

    "What is it you want? Whoever you are.." Ronan asked..

    "Just to let you know that we're watching... or should I say, He is.."

    Glaring, Ronan rose out of bed to his feet.. the man spoke again..

    "Don't get all huffy, lad. You should be thanking me for not slitting your throat where you slept. Such a powerful mage, so vulnerable... and one stroke of a sharp edge ends him."

    "Get out.." Ronan pointed to the door, "Or you will regret not slitting my throat.."

    The man rose out of the chair, heading for the door... but not without speaking further, "I would wonder... you didn't ask why I let you live.. even after the betrayal to the faith.."

    "I don't care. Now leave."

    "Oh, but it would be so much more fun to tell you. You see, even though you have betrayed us, He knows you well enough still... and how to bring you back." Grinning widely, the man continued, "Tragedy. You thought you would go unpunished for your lack of faith... but now we've found a weakness. But don't you worry, we won't go after this weakness ourselves... it will be exploited in this war, and you will be crushed. You will seek us out again, when you have no where else to turn. We will accept you back, as family again."

    Snickering, the man turned and casually walked out the door of Ronan's room..

    ...the next day, Ronan awoke, not even remembering when he went back to sleep after the incident the night before. Which only made the mage wonder if it was just a dream.._


  • _Sixteen years earlier…

    "Ronan, my boy.." the hooded old man gave the white haired teen a smile, motioning him over to the table, laying on it was a map. He pointed a bony finger at a place on the map as the boy came over.

    "This here.. is where I grew up. I plan to take you there... some day." The man said distantly, "So we can get away from this place. It seems to... dull for my liking. Plus, it would be a good place to retire, and for you to begin your life is a man."

    Ronan, excitement shown on his face, spoke, "Really? Huh.. it looks a little snowy to me, and cold. You're sure the winters there aren't too harsh?"

    Keeping his smile, the black robed man spoke, "We'll survive. Don't you worry, my child."

    At that, there was a knock on the front door. The old man stood, walking slowly toward it, opening it. He seemed to speak in hushed whispers with whomever was at the door. Ronan, however, was excitedly looking at the map, looking at all the various places the world had to offer..

    ...after a few moments, two men walked into the room, one of them the old man, the other was a man clad in black leathers, with a scar across his left cheek. An ugly individual, whom had a serious expression on his face and dark, shallow eyes.

    "Ronan, this is a friend of mine... it is best you do not know his name."

    Looking up, Ronan just gave the stranger a shy nod, before looking back to the map. The two men continued to just whisper in hushed tones, sometimes harsh whispering. Then after a few moments of that, the old man turned to Ronan, speaking in his usual soothing and soft voice..

    "My boy, I'm afraid our plans of retirement will be put on hold for a few more years, but do not w-!" And suddenly, he was cut off as a dagger entered his back, the stranger behind him.. Ronan did not even see the man draw the dagger, however as soon as he knew what happened, he grabbed another dagger off the table.. wide-eyed in horror as the old man stumbled to the ground in a heap of black robes.

    The stranger stood over the corpse, lifting his empty gaze to Ronan.. speaking, "His faith had dwindled. He grew too attached to you and was attempting to retire from the faith all together... unacceptable."

    Slowly, the man stepped toward Ronan, the boy holding up the dagger defensively. As the man neared, the boy slashed toward the stranger! But Ronan's wrist was caught, and a harsh squeeze was applied there, the dagger dropping to the floor as it was too painful to bare. The stranger leaned right into Ronan's face, speaking with that hateful voice..

    "I would kill you, but He has other plans for you." After a punch to the boy's stomach, the stranger pushed Ronan to the ground, continuing to speak:

    "Remember, lad: Never become attached... it will only hurt you in every way you could imagine... as you can see your care-taker has suffered here. It is shameful to the faith. Remember that it is only you, and Him on the same side..."

    After those words, the man left.. leaving Ronan alone once again...

    The boy stumbled up to the table, looking at the map. Remembering where the old man had pointed to: Narfell._


  • _Waking up in a sweat, Ronan gasps for air.. looking around the room with a rather confused look on his face. Before his brow furrows and he wipes his brow of some of the sweat..

    He gets out of bed lazily, going to the dresser… on it is his pack, and a nice looking hand-held mirror. He stares at the mirror a few moments, before going back to his pack and removing his journal... feeling that it was a good time to jot down some thoughts.._

    Admirers

    I tire of them. At least the ones who try to rip me away from what I hold more dear to me than anything in this world.

    First, it was that fey woman. Coming into my dreams, touching me, wanting me… even though I had killed her by showing her her worst fears. What is wrong with these women..? Why is it they are so possesive of me? I may be pretty, but gods I am not -that- great of a man.

    Second, a succubus has now found her way to me. I refused her offers of "pleasures" and promptly killed her too. Yet she comes back, saying she'll have me, so I kill her again. Apparently that wasn't a hint.

    Now, I believe this woman in the mirror is giving me odd dreams. I was sent a mirror from an elven woman who had lost an heirloom. A mage of some sort, she is. The mirror is meant as a communication device, so she can contact me. It is obvious that she is doing this to me, since she had wished to see me naked after she did contact me. And then, tonight... she shows me these... dreams of every woman I've ever been with intimately... save for the one I am in love with.

    That is unacceptable.

    _Ronan shuts his journal a moment.. leaving it on the bed. He eyes the hand-held mirror a moment, hesitating.. before he places his hands on his head, muttering a spell. His hands glowing a soft blue for a moment, the spell seeming to clear his mind.

    Lowering his hands, he goes to the mirror… picking it up... and then smashing it on the dresser with a loud thud. It's glass breaking into many pieces. After the glass shatters, he takes the handle of the mirror, gripping it tightly and muttering... a sizzling sound is heard as the metal on the handle begins to melt. He then drops the broken mirror back onto the dresser..

    "I do not need another admirer... you can find your own damn amulet.."_


  • _"Come, child.. I must show you something.."

    A teenage boy, with long white hair, stared up at the tall older man.. this man seemed to always be cloaked and hooded. Though sometimes his blonde hair peeked out of the hood. His face, however, was always covered in the shadow of the hood. His voice was gentle, soothing almost.. holding a calmness that relaxed the boy every time the older man spoke.

    The black robed man lead the boy down some stairs, leading to a basement door.. before opening it, he turned to the boy..

    "I know that your heart holds sorrow, but do not let it. You did what you had to… it was the right thing to do. Many may see it as an act of evil.. but it is not. It was an act of justice.. that man deserved to die for what he did to you. His daughter will soon realize that reason, and no longer think ill of you.."

    He then put his skinny, bony hand on the doorknob... twisting it and opening it slowly, an eerie creaking sound eminating from it. Inside the room was nothing but blackness. Complete darkness, that it did not even seem natural.. out of the corner of your eye, you could almost see the shadows move.

    The boy was frightened to even look into the room, turning his head away, and beginning to go back up the stares... though the robed man stopped him, speaking in his soothing voice..

    "Worry not child... nothing in there will harm you. You must embrace the darkness. If you are to hide in it, you cannot be afraid of it.."

    With a strong grip, he took the boy's arm and then shoved him into the dark room, closing the door and then with a 'click' it was locked.

    The boy just stood still, not moving a muscle for a few moments, before the fear overtook him.. and he turned, going in the direction he was shoved from and banging on the door, yelling:

    "Let me out! Please!"

    For hours he begged.. until.. he just accepted the fact that he was going to get no help, no one was coming to his rescue. Instead.. he just sat there.. staring ahead at nothingness. His eyes did not adjust to this darkness at all.

    As he sat there... he felt a warmth surround him. It was unusual for a place like this, but it was nice. It calmed him... drove away the fear. He felt as if there was someone he knew there.. such as a relative, or a good friend.

    More hours passed... and finally, the old man opened the door, staring into the room right where the boy was, seeming to know exactly where he was sitting..

    "It is time for supper, Ronan... come..."

    Out of the darkness, came the boy's voice..

    "I dont want to leave.."_

    _Ronan awoke with the sun shining brightly through the window… his eyes squinting as his eyes adjust. Sighing, he climbed out of bed.. which was now empty. He had slept alone that night, his fiance busy with her own duties..

    Getting dressed, he glanced out the window into Norwick.. the small village now waking up for the daily routine..

    "Thank the gods for the sun.."_


  • (The Silverymoon portion is put on hold, and will likely be a seperate thing entirely… so just think of the previous post as a prelude and uh... cliffhanger, or something.. anyway... read this!)

    _Ronan wakes up early in his room, or should it be said, a room that is now shared with his beloved. Rolling over, he sees the red-headed half-elven woman next to him, sleeping peacefully, as always when she is near him. A smile on his lips as he thinks her quite adorable when she sleeps.

    Planting a kiss softly on her head, he quietly gets out of bed and then goes to the dresser, pulling his journal from it. Laying back down on the bed, his head rested against the headboard… he begins to write:_

    It has been a few weeks since my return. I've nearly forgotten I had this journal with me.

    I was hoping to return here with Ah'ria with Norwick in a better condition. Such fantasies are rarely realized. Things are worse here now, and the both of us are quite busy. This is the only time in the last few weeks I've gotten to see her. Perhaps I will take today off, and keep her locked in the room here… not that she'd mind.

    I've been requainted with old friends, who've missed making fun of me on a daily basis... ah, good old Narfell.

    Practically on my first day back, a house exploded here in town... and someone important was lost in it, a dwarf by the name of Wren. I did not know her well, but it is still saddening that these things happen. It worries me that I could lose someone dear to me..

    He glances over at Ah'ria, who still lays there sound asleep… and a slight frown takes his lips as he continues to write.

    Perhaps it is best that she is far away from this town often, scouting. It is likely safer. If I were to lose her…

    He just shakes his head

    Hopefully -none- I know and care for die. But each day that passes, and the more chaos I see… I begin to realize that hope may be for naught. I am much weaker now, much weaker. It is not a good time to be weak in power. Many rely on it.

    Though, I believe raw power won't win this one alone... intelligence will. I may have to look back on my past, and use things I learned then... such as deception...

    ...and betrayal.


  • ((Just in case anyone cares, writing a story about Ronan's trip out of Narfell 😛 ))

    _Silverymoon Saga: Day 1

    I've arrived in Silverymoon, and immediately, Ah'ria lead me to her father's tower, excited for me to meet him.

    As for me, I was nervous. Mostly because I do not like politicians all that much, which is what her father was. And on top of that, he was a mage. Elven mages are usually arrogant… but an elven politician who is also a mage? I did not expect the meeting to go incredibly well.

    Ah'ria assured me that I would do well, and I believed her. So I entered her father's study, alone, while she waited outside. The meeting itself was not terrible.. though he was as I suspected. He demanded much respect, and reminded me of a more angry Aramuil. Though I did my best not to be myself -completely.- I am not sure whether he thinks me right or not for his daughter, he is a hard man to read..

    ...but after the meeting, I went to meet my bride to be in a beautiful grassy field. She began to tell me of places where she grew up, where she went as a child. I've never seen her so happy as she gave me the tour. So enthusiastic, so bright and full of life.. I am truly blessed with her.

    During the tour, we went to a vineyard where they made her favorite wine: Silverymoon Ruby. While there, we ran into some elf named Silviel, who wanted Ah'ria's hand in marriage and thought -himself- more worthy. The idiot. I nearly set him ablaze right there.. especially when he gave her those looks. Looks that said all he wanted her for was physical relations, and for more political power with her father.

    I threatened him after he attempted to bribe me to not take her hand. Which only said that he thought of her as a piece of property. AFter my threat, however.. he attacked me with necromatic magics, stating she will "taste good" and then dissapeared.

    Typical.. that problems seem to follow us from Narfell.._


  • People This seems to be written in larger letters..

    I know that anything can happen, memories can, in fact, be taken from you, whether you will them to or not. So in case of such an event, I'll begin a list, which has the people I've currently met in Narfell, along with a brief description on how I feel about them. One never knows when such simple knowledge can come in handy.

    I shall start off with people I know the most:

    Ah'ria - Obviously at the top of the list. The love of my life. My fiance. My wife. She also has very nice legs… and.. very nice everything else for that matter.

    Gears - My best friend, I believe.. who knows, our relationship my not be deemed "friendship" by some, but he's entertaining.

    Aramuil - Arrogant elven wizard. No surprise there, but we've been through many dangers.

    Celestria - The priestess who likely saved my life. The one who helped with my attonement. I owe her much..

    Kara - The most odd paladin I've ever met. It's amusing to bicker with her and tease her.

    Sabre - Female pirate. Always liked to taunt me and get on my nerves. She was fun.

    Mareann - Half-elven bard. One whom's heart I broke. A long story.

    Dondiah - A sort of mental elven bard. Enjoys teasing me.

    Aelthas - A bullheaded pink knight who always tries to get his way, no matter the situation. Though, good in a fight against whatever evil plagues the land.

    Lycka - Aelthas' wife. A sort of childish bard, though.. what bard isn't childish?

    Selene - She always giggles when I purchase things from her. A bit strange, but nice nontheless.

    These are the folks I am the most closest to at the moment. Some know my secrets, some just fight along side me in large battles, some care for me on this list, some never have apples for sale..

    I will continue this list later on, or likely create others with different categories. Ones I've met but am not really close to, enemies, or just plain odd folks.


  • _The dim glow of the rising sun entered the inn room. A nude Ronan sits propped up on the pillows. His lightly tanned skin matching the colors the morning sunlight gave off. His hair… is a mess. "Bed Hair" is what he calls it. The definition being that as he tossed in turn in the night, his hair became incredibly frizzy and messy. None outside the privacy of his room has ever seen this style of hair, save for the one he shares his bed with. It is a humerous sight, to be sure.

    In his lap, is his journal, along with a few writing utensils. Quietly, he writes his thoughts down, his lips moving as he silently reads the thoughts aloud..._

    At long last, Ah'ria has returned from her trip into the mountains. Though it wasn't a trip without injury. Her leg was broken when she returned, the wound infected. The healer's refused to treat her the quick way, with magic, so they began the torterous treatment of snapping her leg back into place, along with treating the large wound.

    The sight of her pain was unbearable. Moreso was the fact that she could barely walk, or move. The dissapointed looks made my heart sink, as she could not wander the lands freely, as she so loves to do.

    During the treatments, I became so angry that she had to suffer this. I felt the need to tear down the healer's with bolts of lightning, and storms of ice. This feeling is all to familiar. I nearly lose control of myself, and my powers seem to have a mind of their own as it shows itself without me calling upon it. I had thought I had that under control, but apparently not. Though my love, the one I cherish so much, was suffering… and there was not a thing I could do about it. I rarely feel so helpless.

    Though she was healed and recovered fully. We celebrated. A kiss. A touch... and so much more. Nothing in the world makes me happier than to see her enjoy life, and be happy. It was certainly a challenging time for us both.

    Speaking of challenges, I've yet to find one who can best me in combat. Of course, there have been higher powers who have threatened the land, and some were more powerful than I... but lately, I've found little to challenge my potential. Mayhaps one will find me, and give me the proper challenge I seek, whether it be in a duel... or to fight for survival.

    Perhaps it is unhealthy to wantingly search for someone to best me, but I do not care. What is wrong with a bit of a challenge? It is more fun when things are more difficult to defeat. Once defeated, it is a great pleasure to feel that rush for using my power to repel something that could devistate those who are much weaker.

    Mayhaps sometime soon, I will get my wish...

    Ronan closes his journal and places it beside him on the bed. He relaxes against the pillows, letting out a soft sigh of relaxation, before looking down to his lap again, smirking as he speaks aloud:

    My, aren't -you- excited this morning.

    ((Couldn't resist. Hope you've all enjoyed this so far. 😛 ))


  • A week or two has passed, and nothing of huge interest has happened. It has been quiet, peaceful for the most part. I find myself with little to do when Ah'ria is away. Usually there was some evil thing I could blast back to the Abyss, though ever since the warrens, there's been little to none of that. I suppose that is a good thing, though it leaves me bored. Not that I'd want some new villian to pop out of nowhere to entertain me, but I sometimes wish that I could make myself useful, instead of just sitting on this rock.

    While sitting, though, I've been thinking of several things. Mostly past events, the people I've met, the things I've gone through. I sometimes wonder if it was all for nothing. Just another spec in time, that will be forgotten. I hear of praise of past veterans, that I've never even heard of. What did they accomplish that I haven't? Why are they remembered?

    As I've thought on this, I realize that a few people -wish- to see me fail, instead of succeed like these veteran heroes. They're looking, waiting for me to stray, looking for excuses. All the good I've done, and they expect more, more and more, until I either fall to death, or to darkness again. Are they afraid? Jealous? It doesn't matter either way. I don't intend to fail. Failing gets me nowhere. I failed myself in the past, and it only brought pain. Never again. If I can't make sure of it, then my friends and loved ones will.

    Never am I alone.

    Brushing the white hair from his dark grey eyes, Ronan slowly shuts his journal… before remembering something, he quickly jots down a few quick notes:

    • Get a book to read to Ah'ria and Obtuse (Eresse)
    • Buy more Silverymoon Ruby

    He thinks to himself a moment, then smirks

    • Silk retraints for my scout

    Snickering to himself, he rips out the small list he made at the bottom of the journal, closing the journal, and then tucking it away in his pack. Ronan then trudges to the inn, heading up the stairs for a beauty nap