3. Travels and Tribulations of the Shadow Singer

Travels and Tribulations of the Shadow Singer


  • This world can turn me down
    But I won't turn away
    And I won't duck and run
    Cause I'm not built that way.
    When everything is gone there is nothing left to fear.
    The world cannot bring me down
    No cause I am already here, oh no!

    He looked out from the balcony of the back of the college, seeing the houses sprawled around, smelling the sea air, feeling the sun beating down on him. A new day has dawned over Peltarch and as he looked up he realized the dawning was not only one for Peltarch, but for himself as well.

    He thought back to the past years, all the pain, all the torment, the trials and tribulations all caused by one act. And he let it all go, off onto the wind like the leaves that blew in front of him. To hold it within was to cause him to be a hollow man, and empty one. A tide was turning in Peltarch, a chance for it to finally reach the light that it held so much promise to be able to grasp. This Zyphlin that returned would not be able to help it reach this light; it would only pull it farther into the darkness.

    He turned, moving from the balcony and through the halls in a daze to his room. He emerged later, a smile on his face, and the glowing fabric of a azure tunic known the Nars over resting on his torso, and made his way to the commons. For the first time the Bard in Blue truly returned to Peltarch…


  • Taken from the Journal of Zyphlin Re’cual

    _12th day of Tarsakh, “The Claw of the Storms”, of the year 1455 DR, the “Year of the Kings Repentance”

    It is amazing how slowly real changes occur in life yet how quickly it seems to happen within ones mind. For one of the first time in years I’ve felt life is going in the right direction. I am excited about the happenings around me. Is their adversity? Yes, but perhaps that is what I needed. I have found a problem to throw my heart and soul into once more, to give myself over to, so that perhaps I can help those around me. Perhaps that is what I need, simply a cause. Could something as simple as that be what I was missing for that time, what I needed to understand. For so much of my life my cause was given to me, told to me as my mission, and thus that is what it was. Now I do not have that luxury, but perhaps I don’t need it, for now I may allow my conscious and my heart dictate what my cause is. I try to think back to the different moments where life seemed to be turning around, yet I can’t, it was a slow steady build. Yet it feels like it just occurred, as if someone somehow found a candle inside me and flicked the flint and steel against it to ignite it. Friends have returned to me once more, I have found love once again, and I have a purpose. Is my life perfect…no, it is far from it…but perhaps that imperfection is what makes life so exciting. Either way, I have much to think on now, and I have much to live for.

    ZR_

    He moved past the orcs with a pleasant grin on his face, hiding behind the shadowy visage his new helm cast down around his body, however something was nagging at the back of his mind. He was happy his friends managed to get away, they all were able to get invisibilities up before the orcs slaughtered them. Normally such a fight would’ve found the orcs at the end of arrow tips and sword blades, but after a day like today, such a fight wouldn’t have been favorable.

    Before stalking into Mintas Rheglor that day he had many things on his mind. His wavering relationship with the man he considered a brother yet was drawing farther away from every day. The strange happenings of the High and Radiant Order of the Blue Circle and how they intertwined with one Enenan Snydders and Torin Bravickus, and more so what those damned artifacts really did. The odd message left over by a dead elf after his caravan was beset by unknown foes. All these things were at the forefront of Zyph’s mind as he stalked into the dilapidated city.

    Coming out though was a different story.

    Only one thing was on his mind, the feel that something was wrong, that something wasn’t exactly right…yet it was close to it.

    He had wanted to go to the city to explore, to see if there were any strange happenings that may point to the Circles work. As he approached though he had ran into fellow adventurer’s heading in the direction. He moved into the city with them and found their intentions were to examine a temple within. Always one for adventure, he managed to bring down the wards and open the door for them…though in retrospect he thought perhaps it would’ve been better if he hadn’t had his Goddess’s luck in that endeavor.

    The time within the temple was far from an enlightening religious experience. Odd happenings began almost as soon as they entered, and before long they were trapped within by some odd force, spells of negative energy and cursing were ripe within the temple, draining all those within. A mild panic had spread amongst them and finally the clerics of his group were convinced to end their efforts of cleansing the temple. Breaking down the door blocking them from the exit they made their way back out into the ancient city…

    …into the night…

    …into the time the duegar owned…

    He had heard the rattling of their gear as soon as he made it out, cursing the moon for being out, cursing themselves for staying in to long. He moved ahead quickly, keeping himself unseen as he knew only he could amongst their group, and confirmed his suspicion. A dozen or more of the dark dwarves, waiting at the exit.

    Zyph crept back to his friends, returning through the gate and closing it, giving the report. Later he would think on the fact that that moment, and that moment alone, he could’ve gotten away from all of it if he wanted to…and after thinking that fact he would not regret his choice of going back to his friends. A feeling of dread crept over them all as he gave them the news, their bodies wrecked from the magic, their spells nearly drained. Yet they knew what they must do, and they tried to prepare. However it was then that things went from bad to worse…as they tend to have a penchant for doing.

    Kara, paladin of Kelemvor, fell to her knee’s, a cursing magic from the temple sapping almost to much of the strength to walk. At the same time they found that the gates had become barred somehow, magically warded, unable to be damaged or opened. Just as the feeling of being rats trapped in a cage began to overcome them they smelt the familiar aroma of sulfur. Looking behind them they saw a line of fire from the top of the temple and leading down to them, spreading through the area.

    They had tried to find a way out, but any attempts were cut short as Salamanders rose from the portals of fire and attacked. Zyphlin dove into them head long, knowing his two daggers would cut through their molten skin better then most weapons, knowing he had to help with his friend on the ground still. The adventurer’s fought on, turning back the Salamanders and Lemures that came through the portals. Still, they were wearing down, and likely would have lost the day if not for the magical prowess of The Fool, who managed to shut down the portals and buy them time.

    Sadly that time was cut down to mere seconds.

    Just as the last portal dropped, so to did Kara. Those at the top of the temple heard Call’s cry of shock and rushed to it, seeing Kara lieing upon the ground, badly wounded, the curse still draining her, but most startling was the fact that it seemed as if a shadow had overtaken her body, slowly making her grow dim. Call was at a lost, desperate to have her companion be revived. The others desperately tried to figure out what was happening, but He knew. Zyphlin had seen such a sight before, knew the feel. Concentrating he stood, trying to once more feel that familiar caress of the plane that had became like a strange second home to him. He opened his eyes and could feel, almost see, the shadow stuff that was trailing after all those present, trying to feed upon their energies as it was pulled from its own plane of existence. And he saw it upon Kara the most, trying to use her to draw itself back into its plane, to feed its hunger.

    He understood it, it was seeking the weak, it was culling the heard. There was almost no hope for Kara as it stood, it would pull her fully if something was not done. Looking around he knew he had no time to explain, all he could do was simply act…he had to make himself the bait. He pulled off his gauntlets, displaying the sinful wounds upon his wrists once more, and drew his knife. Falling to his knee’s he thought quickly that he would need his Goddess Luck in this, and for his Mother to forgive him if this went wrong, and then he took the blade deep into his wrists.

    The dagger fell to the side as his hands lost their motion. He could hear his friends screaming at him now, but all he could really comprehend was the striking pain and the feeling of his lifeblood draining. He tried to concentrate, knowing this was his only chance. He focused upon the shadow stuff around them, trying to draw it to him, to bait it to enter and take him instead. He wasn’t sure if he could properly control it, but knew he would have a better chance then his dear friend lying near death near him. He felt it slowly working, the energies leaving some of those around him, yet Kara remained. He opened his eyes, trying to get a grasp of the situation as his head began to feel as if it was floating, and saw Call there, locked upon her love, a deep rift of the planes growing where they were. He screamed as best he could to his friends to get them apart. Call refused, not wanting to leave, but was dragged away as he crawled to Kara. Placing his hands upon her, forcing his will onto the essence surrounding her, he called it to him, gave himself over. He felt it begin to move and called once more, bidding them to pull Kara from the rift quickly. She was safe now, but not for long, not unless he could close this thing.

    He threw himself half into it, expecting the warm gentle embrace of the Shadow Plane and hoping to finish this quickly. He was hit with a chill surprise however. He felt a touch of the caress of the dark plane, but more then that he felt despair, he felt a cold whisper playing into his head, draining his resolve. Something was wrong, something wasn’t right, and things were going bad quickly. He begged his friends to go, unsure of what could happen but hoping he could at least save them through his own life If need be. He heard the note of a Yarting, clear and concise, yet at the same time fading. The sound of his teacher playing, teaching, yet it was wrong. He couldn’t fully understand it. He screamed for them to go again and finally they moved, unsure of what fully to do.

    It was then he began to realize the truth of the matter. This was not the plane of shadow, but some imposter. A hungry force, camouflaging itself, hoping to devour the souls and hopes of those around it. It ate at him, trying to bring out all the despair it could. If it had happened a year earlier, Zyphlin Re’cual would likely be a specter. However he had regained some of his love for life, and it was that love that he focused on. He thoughts of his battles with Talgrath, the long nights talking with Ayanie, the smile and touch of his love Skyla, the sounds of the audience after the performances once more making the Theater great, the smiling faces, the warm hugs, the fun times…he focused on all of them. And in the end, it was the dull yet expert beat of the simplest of things…two spoons…that he concentrated on, fighting back the hope stilling music of the yarting.

    His will struggled against that of the planes, what he would find out later from the Fool as being a rift point between the shadow and negative energy planes, and in the end it expelled him.

    And that is what was nagging him now. He had not won that battle of wills, he had not closed the rift off…it had expelled him from it and left. Yes, it succeeded in doing what he needed, and yet something about it seemed off, as if it wasn’t right. He couldn’t place why not matter how hard he tried, it simply stayed there, like that itch in the middle of your back that you just can’t reach.

    He grasped his coin as he headed north to Peltarch, needing to think things over, and needing to find Snydders. He smiled upon the reassuring touch of the gold.

    “Thank you for watching out for me today. I don’t know what stroke of luck made me realize what I needed to do, or more then that to make it through it, but I thank you. The gods and mortals alike know I probably cause you more trouble then most of your followers, always having to give me a helping hand here or there, but know that I am always thankful and will always try to further your goals. When it comes time for my luck to run out, I will gladly come to your side, but for now lets hope the cards keep getting dealt in my favor."

    "And Mother…thank you for helping out there, if you did. I don’t think I could’ve fought off that plane without the pull from you Weave. I know I dabble in things you may not approve, for I know Its twin is made of the same shadow stuff that I find comfort within, but do not fear. I seek to control it, to embrace it, to understand it…but in no way do I seek to give my heart over to the darkness that some do. The shadow is not darkness, nor is it light…it is a thing that is in-between. Perhaps you should understand that mother, after all, your essence came from the light and the darkness as well. It is ones soul that determines what path they walk within the shadows, and you know mine is one of light. The coming months will be a trying time, and I am working on something that may be of benefit to you. May your eyes be on me and aid me in the mysteries that are before me.”

    He felt a warm sensation three fold, upon his coin, upon his back, and strangely upon his own Yarting. It was a comforting feeling, giving him a small smile as he stalked his way north, but yet still there was that nagging feeling…

    …that itch in the middle of his back


  • _I’m dreaming about tomorrow
    I’m thinking of yesterday
    I consume myself in sorrow
    This moment in time
    Is what I betray
    I am searching for the answers

    And I look around
    Sometimes I get sad
    Cause I don’t know which way to go
    And I look around
    And sometimes I get sad
    Cause my life is spinning out of control_

    He bolted up right, sweat dripping down his brow in a steady stream. He blinked his eyes, the pale soulless blue orbs taking in the dark candle lit room around him, the shadows entering into his eyes before the light stings him. The dream spinning through his head, the smirking child, the dagger in the back, that bastards smile, and those hundreds of condemning voices…always those voices. This time however was different, he knew that much…could tell from his reaction…but he couldn’t pick it out. The dream was never a good one, always bringing a restless sleep and a heavy heart but this time it inspired pure terror in him the likes he hadn’t known before. There was a man there in the dream, watching him, yet he had no face, no real body…he was just there, and he was watching despite it all. Zyphlin didn’t know who the man was, what it meant, what could be the meaning of it but none the less the thought sent shoots of terror through his body once more.

    He got up, grabbing his cloak and tunic and throwing it over his body as the door of his room opened and slid back closed silently as Skyla slept peacefully in their bed. He walked through the halls of the theater, his hands going up and pushing from his forehead through his blonde locks, trying to still his heart and clear his mind as he moved past the library. Slowly he walked over to the couches near the fireplace, sitting down into the soft cushions and resting his head in his hands as the fire leapt and crackled before him.

    He raised his head slowly, looking to his wrists and slowly removing his bracers, wincing slightly at the odd feeling of having them off…something that happened next to never since his return to Narfell. His eyes fell upon the scars, the deep cuts running across his wrists that so nearly stole away his life blood and sent him onwards into the afterlife and the smile of Tymora. The pain of that time came rushing back, filling him, but he did not fight it. He made himself embrace it, to let the pain wash over his body like a man lets a good glass of wine roll across your tongue, to taste and feel every ounce of it once again.

    The past tendays had been trying, so many things confusing him and bringing questions unto his heart. He remember the times of most happiness in Peltarch, times with Gildor in his arms, Talgrath at his side cracking a joke and being his old self, Iydm running about for mushrooms or knowledge or polar bear steaks or any other thing of nonsense, Adam sitting there chiding him for some deed or act he performed, Robyn just quietly sitting behind a bit watching with her astute eyes like the older sister she had became to him (despite him being nearly five times her elder).

    Now he looked at what the city had became for him. Robyn, Adam, Iydm amongst all others…dead, though perhaps not for good in the case of the fool gnome. Talgrath has became more of a comedic parody of his former self, his bad traits being blown into huge proportions and the qualities that made him such a great friend, a brother, seeming to fall farther and farther into the way side. And Gildor…”that’s what its really about isn’t it Zyph? Her.” He thought to himself…that was another thing entirely. After the other day he had slowly slipped back into himself, thinking and brooding, finding his rest in the shadows once more as his mind contemplated things.

    Did she ever actually love him, really love him he wondered. He wasn’t sure…the more he thought, the more he listened to her, the more she said the less he believed it. Gildor used to have a saying for a certain woman in Zyph’s heart; “She changes lover’s like most people change their socks.” Aye…aye perhaps, perhaps that was true of her. But when she was with that lover she was with him and him alone, fully and completely. And lovers are just that, those that you perform the act with, those that you lie with. Lovers do not always mean the ones that you love. No…she may have changed lovers as that but Gildor’s Love was as cheap as a two gold piece whore you could find in the dock districts he thought. Beat her, threaten her, treat her like shit, hells rape her and she’d love you for life. Treat her well, be there for her, love her unconditionally and you don’t get her love…you get to be safe. You get to be the one she comes to when she has a problem that she needs someone to fix, when she’s scared and needs someone to talk to, but in the end that really doesn’t mean anything. It means you’re safe. It means that you’re an idiot, that you’re usable, that you’re good for a fill in till something more profitable comes around.

    He stood abruptly, launching the bracers into the fire, sending the sparks and embers screaming up in a sudden fury as he turned, cloak billowing out around him as he moved off. Clicking his belt onto his side, his grandfathers rapier close to his hip, he moved out towards the back door of the theater. He navigated the sewers, their former playground…”the place where the fake love was allowed to grow” he thought, “how fitting”…and moved out into the foothills and up into the Giantspire. His armor and magic blocking him from the eyes of others and the shadows…his only trusted friends left…wrapping around him giving him safe passage up a ridge. There he sat, looking out to the red glow of the Giantspire Valley, lost within his thoughts.


  • _so I stand and look around
    distracted by the sounds
    of everyone and everything I see

    He moved through the woods of the camp like a shadow, silent and swift, avoiding the loose twigs and scattered leaves as the crisp night air filled his lungs. He had just got done warming himself next to the fire, watching the simple and happy folk of the camp…the rom and gali…as they went about their strange and intriguing life. He had smiled there, something about them striking a cord within his heart…perhaps the carefree nature of their life, the spirit that seemed to live within them, he didn’t know…but it was not a smile that would last but was more a reprieve from the seriousness that followed him these recent days.

    Now he moved through their forests, dodging between the tree’s and keeping a distance from the eight legged beasts that prowled the woods. He slid past them with ease, his armor pulling the shadows around him as his boots padded his footfalls, heading ever onward to the spot that had became his place for gathering his thoughts in the recent tendays. He made the bend around the cliffs of the valley and finally caught sight of the destination, the silver beams of the moon and stars glistening over the water as it tumbled down into the depths of the chasm.

    With practiced skill he moved across the slick outcropping of the wall with a thin smirk on his face, enjoying the bit of fun wherever he could find it. His deft feet would generally take the tiny ridge easily but with the water soaking it and freezing slightly it gave it a bit of an edge of danger that sent a thin bit of excitement through him. True it wasn’t as dangerous as staring down a Zulkir of Thay or having a possible avatar of a god wishing to take your head but a follower of Tymora understands all to well that an okay situation can become a bad situation very quickly with the wrong flip of a coin.

    Settling down against the wall of the cave he looked out through the sheet of water into the night sky, sighing at the fact that that proverb has proven to be all to true as of late. Picking up a loose pebble next to him he skipped it along the ledge and out through the liquid, watching it break through the crystal like visage of it and begin its descent into the depths, before he leaned back closing his eyes.

    “Why do I do what I do? Is it for what I think it is, is it what I tell myself it is? Ever since my return, ever since my life was shredded before my eyes by the one person that I had ever let inside, I have told myself that I would do one thing and one thing alone…work for the good of Narfell and its peoples. Aid these people in this land that has given so much to me; friends, happy moments and great memories, freedom. But yet every step I take for it, every action I do, every thing I attempt seems to meet with opposition. No…no that’s the wrong isn’t it Zyph. Its not the opposition that makes me doubt myself, it is the opposition that comes from those I don’t expect it. I expect opposition to the things I do from those that I’m conflicting against, by those that wish to see pain spread of this land…but when I see it from my friends, from the people of this land that would seemingly benefit from these things, that is what gets me. That is what makes me second guess myself.”

    He found himself talking to himself a lot more out here, as if having a conversation. And who knows, maybe that’s exactly what he was doing. For the longest time he’s not had a real conversation, not like he used to have. The nights of drinking in the bar with Talgrath speaking of love and war, the nights in bed with Gildor talking of life on the streets and the dark things in their life, days of sitting around telling bad jokes and good stories with Adam, the secret meetings behind closed doors of Thayans and zealotous Crusaders. Those things seemed to be stuff of the past now, strange specters and figments of a time gone past. Now there only seemed to be work, to be duty, to be the constant fight. He didn’t mind, he had his moments of happiness still. Those few times he’s been gifted enough time to raise a blade with Talgrath still, or the nights with Skyla, holding her close and letting himself fall fully into her and forget everything else in life but the moment.

    “Maybe there is no ‘collective good’ like I’d like to think. Maybe even amongst the goodly folk of the land there can’t be one collective good, who knows. Gods know I don’t. I do know I’m starting to understand Adam a bit more now, slowly but surely. I remember when I first met him. He was a good man, a hero…damned to anyone that says otherwise or tries to sully his name…but yet I remember vividly our first conflict. It was the time when I was still ambassador to Peltarch and had many ties with Norwick. I knew he knew some important information regarding issues there and that he could help, yet he refused over and over again no matter what angle I tried. He bitterly droned on about how he’s helped them countless times and yet after each time they end up not listening to him once more or laughing in his face with disrespect. I could understand, I’ve had much the same happen a couple times I thought to myself. Gods I was naïve to it then, but I’m beginning to understand. In the little times I’ve been back I’ve given warning of events that end up coming to transpire despite it all, and every time I am amazed that they do not listen again. Now nearly a dozen people are brutally murdered by a man I’ve warned off for years, a man that will never be a hero in my mind and I will never call one…and yet I am looked at as if I am a villain, as if I’m a fool.”

    He shook his head, his eyes trailing away from the water now, focused on something else as he remains quiet in thought for some time.

    “Maybe I’m just getting bitter, or maybe I’m just finally letting some of the anger come through from past experiences. I don’t know…its hard to say. I feel like a new man, not the same as before my leaving and definitely not the same one that came back. I care about my friends but I’ve realized that I can’t seem to get close to them anymore…not like before. Not to the point where if it comes to doing what I feel is right and needed or doing what makes them happy that I take the latter. Perhaps that makes me a worse man, a selfish man in a way, but it is what I feel I must do…and it is who I am. But perhaps it won’t matter soon anyways. The headaches are growing more of a pain, and the city seems to beat down around my ears like some drum played upon by titans. These nights out here, with the strange canopy and dancing fires giving off such beautiful shadows, my mind seems to remain silent for a short time. But I’m growing tired and weary, and I’m finding less and less to not gamble upon. Soon I find Attentus, and if not him then I do what I can with a Menhir, but perhaps soon we will be having a conversation where I’m not the only one talking…”

    With that he stood back up, his eyes looked down below him…at the dancing shadow that should not even be there in this tiny little cave…and took in the silence of the moment for a minute before moving back out through the forests and up the Nars, returning to the theater and into his bed room for the last few hours of sleep before sunrise and the coming of a new day._


  • _9th day of Nightal, "The Drawing Down". 1451 DR "Year of Knowledge Unearthed"

    Sun and Moon, Day and Night, Darkness and Illumination, Shadow and Light. Our world is crafted upon the dichotomy of black and white, of that which seems bright and obvious and that which is dusky and hidden. But do we not perhaps look at this dichotomy in the wrong way, seeing it as only our mortal eyes wish to view it? I think perhaps, for mortals are creatures of habit and of repetition. We learn from an early age to believe what our parents believe, what our peers believe, what the world wants us to believe. So often the dark, the shadow, is thought to be evil, to be wrong, to be twisted and vile, but is this so? Is this the truth or is this something that our mortal eye simply can not see and understand and thus we equate it to wrong. Must the darkness always be evil, be an enemy? An in turn, or perhaps in proof of, must light and all that is bright always be holy and good? The lightening thrown by an evil cleric of Talos intent on the destruction of a city could be a beautiful thing. The way the light arcs through the sky, the ridges of the shining bolt, the flash of pure light that enters our field of vision before the sizzle of the bolt can be heard and the target is singed. But despite its bright nature and the fact that it may be a beautiful image to behold is it still not a thing of evil, a thing of destruction and despair, meant to harm and destroy? Could a follower of Bane not wear the shining armor of a Tormite that he slew with great enjoyment as an insult to his fallen foe and to deceive what in his mind is the "ignorant masses"? Would this sudden donning of bright and shining armor just as suddenly change his intentions and soul to that of a good man? No, of course not. Then why can not the same be said for the darkness, for the shadow. Can a mage weaving shadowstuff into a bolt to pierce the flesh of a orcs attacking his town or a Ranger that keeps to himself and wears black to better strike against the enemies of the forest from the shadows he have made his home not be a good soul? Can they not be a force for the good, for the benefit for all? Why is it that if one does not embrace the light, embrace the world of smiling faces and social graces, suddenly must be evil? Perhaps it is not the colors that we wear, or the light…or darkness...that we walk within, or the elements and magics and tactics we care for that makes us good or evil. Perhaps it is what we do with those things, why we do those things, and what is in our souls that truly define us. It may be true that I have become a creature of the shadows, prowling in the night and looking out from them, my dark armor adorning me and wrapping them around me, but despite this I would challenge nearly any shining paladin or holy cleric within this land to show that their soul is brighter then mine in the name of good.

    ZR_

    **-Two Sided Shadow, Part 1-

    He saw her from the shadows as he moved within the commons. The short red hair slipping over the front of her face, giving her a mysterious yet alluring look to her as she relaxed in her seat. He took a moment to look at her, smiling very slightly inwardly, and shook his head. She had helped him so much in the past months, more then he could have even imagine or expected from her after all their past. For so long he had thought of himself being the one looking over the other, lending the helping hand and helping to guide their path. But it was she who put the hand out this time to pull him from the dark pit that was his despair and back to the path of hope and life again. He wasn't himself still, but it was coming slowly, and in some ways it was coming in a new way. Perhaps the true way this time.

    He shrugged off his musings as he saw her yawn, moving through the crowds of people who seemed to not even notice him in the bustle of the streets, and headed into the commons. He slid into his normal seat, looking over and watching her with a tiny grin on his face until she looked up, startled a bit at suddenly seeing him. He gave a little wave and she chuckled, mocking frustration of having to move as she came across the commons.

    Seeing her smiling face and smelling the wondrous scent that always seemed to trail after her he forgot all about the strange happenings of earlier that day and simply relaxed. They talked quietly, catching up a bit as he had been stuck in Norwick for tendays during the Second Defiler's War. The conversation was good, it let him concentrate on something besides the demons that still filled his head and the incessant need for movement, for change, for action. They talked for some time before she finally took his hand, pulling him for a walk.

    The two moved through the streets of the city that they had both lived in for so long, not really looking at the road or anything in particular, just happy to be together and walking. There is something to be said when you find someone you can just walk with and feel comfortable, not needing to talk or to fill the silences that happen in the world but to take them in and enjoy them for the serenity of it all. Slowly their feet led them into the dock districts and the smell of the sea air filled their nostrils. She led him towards the edge of the district and they settled behind some crates as he pulled her into his arms.

    And there they sat and talked, or in reality she did. He didn't mind, all he did was talk it seemed, it was his profession after all. He was a bard, The Bard according to some…at least now that his mentor was above rolling the bones with Tymora...and it was the job of bards to talk and to entertain and to spread whimsy to others. However though everyone needs a break from their job, and while you'd be loathe to get him to admit it, he didn't mind to simply sit and listen and relax. So she talked, spinning tales of her early life, and he sat and listened and smiled his small smile that was so common since his return and gave into the comforting sea air.

    It was then he felt the first tings of pain beating within his head, ever so slightly. He shook it off a bit and returned to listening to his lady. She was telling him of a dream, and as it went on his mind quickly forgot about the tinge of pain in his head and concentrated completely upon the dream which seemed to have placed him center stage of the last act. He listened as she recalled it, a deep feeling of warning seeping through him as he listened, telling him every detailed she remembered. It ended with what seemed like a mirror image of himself, a dark half, embracing her only to let slide from his sleeves a dagger that would quickly plunge deep within her, sending her body to the ground and laughter out of his lips. He shook it off, trying to assure her it was likely just a dream and nothing more, but her eyes shown the same truth that was so obviously missing from his empty words. He wanted to say more, try to reassure her, but he was stricken with another jolt of pain as his head throbbed. Wincing slightly he shrugged off her concerns, telling her he just needed a bit of fresh air. Together they stood and headed out to the Nars with him once more trying to just ignore the headache.

    The travel down the Nars went well, and he was relieved to seem it had at least pushed the throbbing of his head to the back of it. The two had became accustomed to battling together, along with her faithful panther, and they tore like a whirlwind through the bandits, he of the shadow and her of the flame. The little resistance they encountered fell with ease and they were well on their way down the long road of Narfell when they spotted the flowing blonde hair of the woman in the black armor and the unmistakable red and yellow armor of the Phoenix turned Senator.

    Waving to Maya and Vino the two moved up to meet them and palaver a bit. They talked quickly, exchanging destinations and here to do's, when suddenly the headaches was back. Only this time it was no normal headache but the equivalent of one of the many Dwarves of Norwick taking their picks and going at his skull as if it was a vein of ore in the Rawlinswood. He grasped his head, closing his eyes in pain.

    His three friends immediately took notice. Skyla, having been noting his looks of pain from earlier but saying nothing, quickly moved to his side to see if he was okay. Maya immediately tried to grasp the situation, asking if "Zyph okay?" and looking on curiously. Vino, after hearing mutters of pain and what seemed as insane babble and a bit of an explanation that his head had been bothering him from Skyla, spoke a prayer to his god Tyr asking him to sooth the pain of his friend.

    However this headache was spurned on from a entirely different animal then anything Vino had rightly expected. He tried to fight the pain off, to push it away, but it was to much. Words swirled within his head, teasing him, just out of reach; "Let...me............out!" Who, let who out, how, what is going on? He couldn't understand, couldn't respond, nothing came through the pain shooting through his mind. Finally he felt his eyes roll up as they went dark externally, his body falling limply to the ground as he shuddered slightly, eyes fluttering. The three looked on in confusion and horror as their friend fall but were left even more shocked the next moment.

    Up from the ground his shadow jumped, standing as if it was a living creature. It looked to them all as the three looked back in shocked surprise and then it was off. "DEMON!" shouted the warrior woman, streaking off after the shadow but to no avail. The thing moved swiftly, crossing the Nars like it was the wind itself.

    And as it moved Zyphlin could feel it all, see it all. It was as if he was riding along on a carriage with no control over where it was heading. He tried to grasp control but it seemed impossible so instead he sat back and tried to relax. As he did he began to feel the sights and sounds so much more intensely, the feeling of being a passenger begun to leave and all that was left was the sensations of the world rushing past him in a shadowy haze.

    Finally its rounds brought it back to his body, running up and diving in before any had a chance to strike it. Maya growled, demanding that the Demon had gone within him as she pulled out her Greataxe. The others tried to reason with her a bit, bidding her not to try anything to rash. Instead she grabbed the prone bard, shaking him violently as he regained his consciousness.

    He looked around at the worried faces curiously, asking for a bit of an explanation as he was still coping with the strange out of body experience feeling. They helped him stand as they explained what happened. Suddenly the events of the days past didn't seem so innocent any longer. He began to explain to them about coming upon his two friends, the dwarven wall Tagnar and the War Cleric Eowien, finishing a battle against shadow mastiffs and shades. He had reached out to the shadow realms, trying to get a feel for the plane he had felt a strange kinship to, seeing if the barrio between the worlds was thin in that area. He was continuing his story as another wave of pain gripped his head. He screamed out and fell to his knee's as a creature of shadow jumped forth from his own shadow.

    He crawled away in pain and fear as it lept forth, beating upon Sky who was blindsided as she tried to see if her love was alright. She turned with a fury upon its hit, scimitar blazing as she tore into it alongside the other two. The blades bit in from all sides, slicing into the shadowstuff of the creature until the flames of her blade cast away the last of it back to the realms of its creation. They quickly moved over to Zyphlin who was beginning to stand and to also understand exactly what was happening.

    He looked over to them as they ran up, a grim smirk on his face but his eyes wary "I think I know what is happening, but I'll be damned if I know how..."**


  • _I walk a lonely road
    The only one that I have ever known
    Don't know where it goes
    But it's home to me and I walk alone

    …He moved along the streets of Peltarch in the dead of night, letting his voice ring out quietly as he walked, letting the words just flow from him as his mind raced in thought. The past tenday or two had got him thinking, about a lot of things, about a lot of how he was acting. It seemed as if Beshaba had taken a vested interest in continuing his bad luck for even longer...

    _I walk this empty street
    On the Boulevard of broken dreams
    Where the city sleeps
    And I'm the only one and I walk alone

    …He looked around out from the shadows as he walked, seeing the emptiness of this city. His talk with Penny nights before still weighing on his head. "even when we act we put a part of ourselves in it hun, its never all fake." He felt his boot heels click against the stone silently as he sang on and thought. He had left, fled like a coward, because he was afraid that all that time, all those decades, he was just living a lie, lying to himself and to his friends. Was he really so much different now from the person he used to be, was that person so far from his true self after all...

    _I walk alone
    I walk alone
    I walk alone
    I walk a…

    …Ever since coming back he had seen his friends again. At the beginning he had hid but slowly he pulled himself out from the shadows more often to see them. But yet somehow it didn't seem the same, somehow he still felt alone. He put on the smiles and the laughs for their benefit. And his own too, he admitted to himself, to hope that maybe they would stay for real. But they always felt so hollow...

    _My shadows the only one that walks beside me
    My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating
    Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
    Till then I walk alone

    …He walked steadily through the streets, through the shadows he had spent so many nights in since returning. He had learned she worried about him when he was not there when she awoke, but he still was to restless. Still desired to much to be alone. So he went out on his nights, to think or to patrol the docks, and would slip back in quietly next to her. Why couldn't he just stay, why couldn't he just give himself fully to her? He shook his head because he knew, he knew it all to well...

    _I'm walking down the line
    That divides me somewhere in my mind
    On the border line of the edge
    And where I walk alone

    …He still hurt. Every time he see's her the pain returns, yet so do the fond memories. He can't give himself over to her again, not now, but he can't loose her completely either. But yet that conundrum seems to echo and mirror his problems with himself. On one side he feels the changes happening within him, the maturing or perhaps the understanding of himself, and yet at the same time the ways he once was while in this land are still there, poking and prodding to be let back out. Which is right, which is correct, which was him. Both seemed somehow wrong, somehow neither seemed to fit perfectly into the plan of things, both teetering close but not quite there...

    _Read between the lines
    What's fucked up and everythings all right
    Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive
    And I walk alone

    …He had let his feelings and current views overtake him when he first arrived again, much to the worry of his friends and peers. He'd see their looks, hear their words, know their troubles. It pained him, for he knew what it was like to have someone close to you inflict pain. So he tried to act more of his old self; Walking with a bounce in his step, a smile on his face, a quip always on the tip of his tongue. Yet that brought pain to himself instead, making him remember the old days, the old ways of his life...

    _I walk alone
    I walk alone
    I walk alone
    I walk a…

    …And the more he seemed to try to act his part once more, even unconsciously falling into the routine, the more he saw pain happen to himself and those around him. In a single day he saw friends, people he had considered as much family as any of his blood relatives in Evermeet, fall before his eyes. He watched the love of life leave his brothers eyes as he was brought back to the world, and helped as his mentor and a kindred spirit was buried and put to a final resting place...

    _My shadows the only one that walks beside me
    My shallow hearts the only thing that's beating
    Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
    Till then I walk alone

    …So what was real? What was his true self? What was really in his heart? Was it the blue garbed bard that everyone had known and loved so well, was it the emotionless man that sought only to do what he could for the good of others and forgo any other thoughts of a life? Was it the light, or the dark, that truly showed what was sleeping within his heart. Which one was what he had been hoping to find, his true self. Or was it something else. Was it the middle, where the light and the dark came together, where the shadows were formed, that was his true self...

    _I walk this empty street
    On the Boulevard of broken dreams
    Where the city sleeps
    And I'm the only one and I walk alone..

    …Perhaps in reality, that which he feared he had been doing, living an act, was all life truly was. Everyone played a part, everyone was an actor. Perhaps the world itself was the set and the Gods of creation the writers and producers. Maybe he shouldn't be so worried that he is playing a part, but instead take the part that seems to be given to him and simply interrupt it to where it feels right. Maybe that really is the key to life, to finding yourself. Its not some magical thing that just dawns on you and mystically you know yourself, maybe its something you really always know and because of that you don't even realize you're letting it show forth. Maybe its always there, no matter in what part you play, just as his young student so wisely said. Maybe a lot of things, but maybe was always a precarious word to use in this life, so he finally walked out of the shadows of the streets, letting his song die, and returned back to his theater with one last thought. For now he was alone, but in time perhaps he will find someone to walk the streets with him...his true self._________


  • //

    NICE

    Zyphlin is my story writing hero.

    😄

    //


  • ((Finished up adding the other encounters with Ikurus and his band. Will try to finish up the return story and add another one or two before thanksgiving 🙂 ))


  • _Like a leech,
    I hold on,
    As if we belonged,
    To some,
    Precious pure dream,
    Cast off,
    You see what's beneath,
    Now fail me!

    He had to see her. He didn't know why, he knew it was stupid, but he knew as well that he couldn't stop his feet this time. Shadow to shadow he moved through the sweet, swiftly drawing him to the house he knew all to well. Taking a breath, stilling his mind, he moved in, slipping the door shut behind him.

    He heard her sipping her tea as he entered, her hand undoubtedly moving to a weapon as she sipped. He knew how sharp her ears were and knew she had heard the door. He didn't care. If she came at him, knowing it was him or not, he wouldn't care. She had killed what was inside him already, if she killed the shell as well so be it.

    Moving forward from around the wall he stepped out of the shadows, moving aside his cloak and removing his helm, his dead blue eyes looking at her as he watched her hand go weak and the tea cup drop from it, shattering into pieces on the ground of what once was their house.

    He looked at her and then down to her pregnant stomach, his eyes flashing with a look of hatred and disgust as vision of his dreams snapped into his head before quickly returning to his now normal flat expression. Her green almond shaped eyes looking widely at him, almost as if she didn't believe the sight.

    Finally he spoke, breaking the silence that seemed as if it was an eternity. "Nothing to say?"

    "…you came back." She said as she slowly moved closer, her hand on the table to keep her stable. "You look healthy" she said, cursing herself silently for having nothing better to say.

    "I keep most of the problems hidden under my vest."

    "You always been good at that...hiding." Her eyes never leaving him as she spoke, intensity within them.

    "So did you, for a long time at least..." he retorted, the words slipping out with their hidden message within them.

    "Two birds...of a feather..."

    His hands tightening and untightening at his sides, "Till a hunter came out of the woods and put an arrow through one..."

    "...and caged the other..." she said before breaking the gaze, looking away and shaking her head slightly. Him just standing there, cold blue eyes upon her as he absently rubbed his wrists. Finally she looked back to him, "are you staying...or passing through..."

    "I do not know. Depends on how long the promises I've made take to be done, and depends if I manage to get my soul and life back into me...As of now I go where my feet take me."

    Unable to help smiling slightly she looked over him in his new armor. "...you look good."

    "Some acquaintances in Cormyr fixed me up a good bit. Compared to what I looked like before they helped I look like a god now. "

    "One of your faults that...you were always to perfect." She said with a thin smile, a comment she made all so often to him.

    "Yet another of her self fulfilling prophecies." He thought to himself, but instead simply stated, "no, its only what I tried to be..."

    She moved over to the drawers in the house, pulling out a linen shirt he had missed and began to fold it slowly. "Staying at the theater?"

    "Perhaps, if Adam is right in his guess I'll be named Head Master soon."

    She smiled warmly at that, though it seemed forced. "That's good news."

    Ignoring the comment he continued, "Though generally I've been staying in the barn in the docks the past few tenday."

    "That's where I ..." she stopped there, going back to fold the shirt, but he knew what she was going to say. That's where she used to sleep. "Yes...it is nice there...can get a bit chilly at times though."

    "I don't sleep much anyways anymore. Can't. Few hours a night. Generally I'm out and about, so the cold or the comfort doesn't matter much."

    "Those nightmares again...?"

    "Something like that." He couldn't tell her the truth, couldn't tell her that the nightmares had actually left for one night thanks to her. Couldn't tell her that they were back worse then ever, her lover and her child laughing at him, cackling through the nights, ever there as a reminder, clawing upon his soul.
    She looked at him, her eyes helpless, saying so much yet, hiding so much, and yet no words came from her mouth. He turned to leave, what foolish thoughts that led him to come there now being cast away, as she pulled out the dagger he had used to pin the note in place. She bid him to wait as she handed him his shirt and dagger, looking up into his eyes. "I've missed you."

    Taking his things he looked up at her, his empty eyes meeting hers. "I've missed me too. Maybe someday he'll be found again..."

    And with that he turned, opening the door and heading back out into the city, what thoughts and doubts that had lingered within his mind vanishing into the shadows that now enveloped his existence._


  • **The Return
    _Now it's my time to help you out,
    Coz you were there when I was down,
    It's hard for me to feel this way
    Losing all my sanity.
    You helped me keep my dreams alive,
    Without you how would I survive
    It's time for me to be a man
    Now I finally understand

    It's never too late to live your life,
    The time is now, it's do or die

    Part One

    He had heard the commotion from around the corner into the commons as he was stealthing back from the docks. Moving quietly around the corner he saw a dozen people gathered on the far side talking, all faces he knew and had counted as friends. Darting from shadow the shadow he made his way around the commons, trying to get close enough to hear their conversation.

    As he crept closer he heard his former mentor speaking, asking a question to one of the ones present. "Evendur, if you were a war wizard where would you plane shift a hostage to?"

    "If I was a war wizard I would not take a hostage" was the retort.

    Zyphlin took in a breath, trying to steady himself as he silently lipped "war wizard" while watching. Could it be him…could it just be a coincidence? He prayed to Tymora it was but somehow he doubted that.

    It was then he heard Talgrath speak up, and as his words came out Zyphlin realized he should've remembered his old adage that there was no such thing as coincidence.

    "So what happened to Skyla then?"

    The barbarian Rick gave a small shrug, stating his uncertainy as the new Senator Brynmor gave as simple an answer as can be expected from a paladin. "She was speaking with the wizard. Then she disappeared."

    Adam informed them that the mage had cast a plane shift spell as all those gathered tried to figure out what had just happened to one of their friends. At the same time they were thinking and bickering with the former inquisitor that arrived on the scene, Zyphlin was standing behind the pillar, frozen in fear and guilt, his demons creeping into his head once more.

    It wasn't until he heard his name that he snapped from his thoughts, looking up as he heard Tal speak.

    "He seemed to be thinking it was Zyphlin"

    "Eh?" Rick said, not quiet following Tal.

    "He thinks that Zyph is his mercenary?" spoke up Bromley.

    "Yeah, ¦he seemed to be thinking that" Tal responded to Adam while behind them the Captain of the Cerulean Knights Anakore gave a small grimace, hearing a name he had hoped wasn't involved with all that was happening but had guessed was.

    "Well, that should be easier since Zyph is in town."

    Talgrath's head snapped around, looking in shock to the bard "He is Adam!?"

    "Yeah, he has been for a while, now we just have to track him down."

    Zyphlin stood motionless as he heard all this, the situation still feeling as if it had sucker punched him straight in the gut, the air feeling knocked out of him. The truth of the matter had smacked him hard. Azagoth had returned, and he must've been here and taken Skyla to get to him. This was his fault. He shook his head slightly in disbelief as he listened and thought back to the letter he received while away. That letter which was a small glimpse of hope, of possible redemption, of a friend reaching out over the distance just to try and help no matter if it did no good. He realized then what he had to do, that the time from keeping himself away had ended.

    Slowly he moved out from behind the pillar, pulling his cloak from around him, and looked at the group through the slits of his helm. Their eyes moved over to the foreign sight, the jet black armor tinged with the burnished color of his God. Questioning, curious, with a tint of understanding on some of them. Finally, taking a deep breath, he reached up and removed the helm, letting his hair fall down around his shoulders.

    Robyn's lips curled up in a smile as Adam looked on with a smug satisfied look that all knew so well on the old bard that seemed to be right so often. Roland simply gave a small smile as Rick looked on in disbelief, but it was Talgrath that broke the first bit of silence.

    "Zyphlin, you son of a bitch"

    But there was little bite to the comment if any. However Zyphlin was in no mood for a reunion or happiness just yet, he had to know for sure. He looked over to them, his eyes cold and voice flat. "What was the name of the mercenary the War Wizard was looking for."

    With eyes of flame narrowed at Zyphlin, Anakore spoke up, "Zander Reorx."

    Zyphlin gave a small nod, his heart skipping a single beat at hearing the name, but pressed on. "And the War Wizard...what was his?"

    A bit of confusion set in as the group tried to remember, but finally it was Talgrath that spoke up. "Azagoth, he said his name was Azagoth something or other"

    He felt his knee's go week as he heard his fears confirmed, his head looking down as his mind scolded himself aloud. "Damnit...I had hoped this had been long past..."

    Zyphlin looked back up as Talgrath was trying to get him to explain along with everyone else, save for Anakore who simply kept his eyes upon Zyphlin and his fingers around the hilt of his sword. Zyphlin explained shortly the history between him and Azagoth, the fact that he assumed he was dead. He told them if Skyla was taken to another plane, it was likely the Plane of Shadow as he was discovered to have followed Shar the first time Zyphlin had encountered him.

    Zyphlin and Adam pointed out at the same time the one person in Peltarch that could get them there, and had before, Daisy. Zyphlin started off, planning on giving himself over and ending this, until he was stopped by Talgrath and Adam with a rather daunting gaze from Robyn.

    "He wants me...let him have me. There's no need to risk us all."

    "Bullshit"

    "We can get both, this is easy. Its just a lich after all" Bromley stated with a smile.

    Zyphlin couldn't help but smile slightly at his former…no, not former...at his friends and nodded a bit. "Alright, but not a lich...no worries there. I took care of that some decades ago. Lets get going."

    Together they began to make their way to the temple of Tyr, hoping to get help from high priestess Daisy. As the made their way around the senatorial apartments though, somber from the experience, they heard a voice none had expected to hear this early.

    "Yoo hoo."

    They all turned, looking shocked as they saw the woman run up to them.

    "Looking for me?" Skyla said, a sly playful smile upon her lips.

    The gathered adventurer's stared for a moment confused, save for the quick witted Bromley, "See, that was easy."

    "I am proud to announce that apparently I'm the queen of the Shadow Realms. Have to say nice folk down there too. The wizard left me with them without realizing and they ended up helping me get back here." She said with a grin as the others looked on, becoming more confused and unsure if it was her.

    Zyphlin, not hearing her words, moved over slowly. He had to know if this was really her. Reaching out, he ran his hands along the thin golden strand wrapped around her neck and looked up to her. "Where did you get th-"

    Before he could get the question out he was promptly greeted with a knee directly to his groin, dropping him to his knees with a small cry.

    "You put it on Nickolai's crib. And that's for hiding in the shadows like a jerk! Do it again, and I'll really hurt you."

    Laughing slightly through the pain, he smiled up at the group. "Yep...its here alright."

    They all gave a small laugh, thinking things were alright at the moment, until they heard a voice cry out from behind them.

    "What??? YOU!? You look NOTHING like me!"

    All of them turned to see the source of the cries, and collectively blinked a moment. Standing before them was the perfect double of Skyla, save for the darkened complexion of the new comer and the deep red eyes.

    "You're right...you've got a horrible complexion." Skyla snapped back at the woman, removing a red stone from her pouch and moving to toss it to Zyph. However as the stone soared through the air the shadow Skyla spoke a few quick words, making the stone disappear.

    Zyphlin looked at her, having never seen the woman before but having a bad feeling about the situation, and spoke up. "Who are you?" However she ignored him, her eyes on Skyla.

    "You are lucky I have other things to do, otherwise...cut that awful music out! My ears for pity's sake." Her eyes turned and darted at Bromley who had his spoons out, playing absentmindedly as he was trying to place the woman. Looking back at the group she gave a small sneer, her eyes resting on Zyphlin a moment. "I have better things to do then this." And with that her hands quickly and expertly wove a spell, driving five magical bolts into Zyphlin's torso as she shifted from this plane, pulling Skyla's panther tempus with her.

    Zyphlin dropped to a knee, muttering to himself as Skyla growled her anger at her cat being taken. As Zyphlin began to rise however he was met with a sword point, as Anakore had drawn his out and approached slowly, rage in his eyes.

    "Zyphlin..." his eyes on him like daggers.

    "Oh no..." Robyn exclaimed as she saw Anakore approach, reaching to her side for her rapier just in case.

    "Everyone just calm down" the old bard stated, his hands moving as he tried to settle the tempers around.

    "I won't calm down till that fool explains himself"

    Robyn spoke up then, looking at the captain. "Anakore...I have no idea what's going on either. But venting your rage by killing Zyph is not going to do anything to make us understand it better."

    "Then make him explain, NOW"

    Having had enough of this Zyphlin rose up, moving in front of those that had separated the two, his cold dead eyes looking to Anakore. You wish to know what is going on? You want to know it all? Fine, I will tell you and explain it all. But not here in the middle of the damned street, with a sword at my throat, while citizens are walking all about watching their captain threatening in a rage their former Magistrate. When we get to the temple of Tyr I will explain everything as best I can."

    With that he turned, not truly caring at that moment if Anakore struck him down, followed, or stayed there. He moved quietly to the temple, slipping into the doors and waited as the others piled in. Taking a breath, he turned towards them, and finally came clean about his entire experience in Cormyr and what he was, what he used to do. Those around listened quietly to the story, of his work in finding the mage, how he had nearly killed Skyla's father due to a frame job, to the point where the two managed to cast Azagoth from Cormyr, and all the way up to the last battle. He finished the tale with the story that the General told him before his return and a simple statement to Anakore. If after all that he wished to kill him, to strike him down pointlessly out of rage and anger, then do so, but it would do nothing to aid the situation except to sedate his temper.

    Those listening stood in slight shock at the story, even the old bard himself, simply looking at Zyphlin. Anakore moved over, eyes downcast slightly, and whispered to Zyph, "I am sorry man."

    Zyphlin shook his head slightly, looking over to the Captain he had known for so long, and said simply "You need to be. You acted how you did out of love…I of all people understand that..."

    He looked back up over to Daisy, smiling slightly at the sight of the priestess, and prayed she could help. "Daisy, I need your assistance again. You sent me to the shadow planes once before to save Adam, do you think you could do that for us again."

    The priestess nodded slightly, but stated it would take some time to prepare. She would send word when the proper components and prayers were done. And at that, the group nodded, the weight of the situation disappearing for at least a moment. He looked to his friends, unable to help the small smile on his lips. He tried once more to take the duty of finding Azagoth on himself alone, but without much heart in it this time, as he knew his friends reactions. And sure enough, none would stand for it, more so they all eagerly wished to help and go with him, including a few friendly threats if he didn't let them know when he was going back. As they began to filter out of the temple he watched them go, realizing then that while he may not know himself any longer he still could count on the fact that he knew his friends.

    **Part Two

    She turned around, her crimson hair bouncing beautifully as she looked behind her. "Nice new look by the way." She looked around a moment though, seeming as if she was talking to nothing. "Zyphlin? Argh!"

    She jumped back slightly started as he stepped out from beside her in the shadows, moving his cloak to the side with a smile.

    "Thanks, just didn't feel right in the blue right now, plus I needed something people didn't recognize when I got back."

    "You're having to much fun doing that."

    He chuckled a bit at the comment but she looked at him rather seriously, speaking up again.

    "Why?"

    "Why what?"

    "Why hide like that for so long?"

    "I wasn't ready to face everyone. I'm…not the same person everyone knew, and I wasn't ready to admit that to everyone. Couldn't face them..."

    She smiled over to him, taking his hand and squeezing it lightly as she looked up into his cold eyes. "Well... who ever you are. I'm very glad to see you."

    They headed towards the theater, him ducking in and out of the shadows as she walked through the streets. Now that he had revealed himself he wished to get a closer look at the harp and figure out what this all had to do with Zargothis. Once they reached the theater they headed to the library, finding Bromley tinkering with the harp and thinking.

    "You two, look around for OLD sheet music. I think there may be a particular song or place we need to play this thing to summon the celestrial."

    Nodding the two did as Adam bid, looking through the different books and notes searching for sheet music. Searching high and low the three looked through the library, yet nothing turned up that felt right. They tried to think of other places to go, things to try, when something accord to Bromley. Smiling he bid them to follow.

    He led them out to the commons, explaining his plan to play the harp upon the spot that the celestial had appeared and the lightening had struck. They watched as his fingers went to work, playing a beautiful melody upon the instrument, yet nothing happened. Zyphlin stood there, watching and listening, when a thought struck him. He knew where it had to be played, it made to much sense! Moving to Adam and whispering for him to follow, he led them around the commons to the old forge that he had entered in so many years before, when all this mess seemed to have started for him.

    He looked around the forge, explaining to the others what he knew; how this was the connected originally to the building where the Soul Drinker was forged, how he had traveled into the building a number of times to see strange occurrences mimicking the stories that went along with the sword...trails of blood and rumblings within darkness.

    Bromley took the harp in hand, once again letting his fingers spin out a masterful tune. It was not long that once more the ground began to shake within the forge, however this time not as severe. Strange magics began once more, though this time instead of the darkness of evil it was the shining light of good that beamed down upon them. The lights went on for a short time before everything went still once more and Adam let his fingers stop.

    They spoke a bit on what they had discovered, realizing they had two pieces to the large puzzle, but unsure exactly how they fit in the whole of it all. Suddenly Adam looked up, his eyes going to Zyphlin's as he spoke slowly. "What was the name of the daughter again."

    Their eyes met, master and protégé, and at once they said together "Janthra".

    **Part Three

    They had talked for some time within the forge, slowly each one leaving till the two bards were left on their own. They talked quietly about a multitude of things, from business to pleasure and back around again. He knew he could have the advisor position if he wanted it, but in truth, he didn't. He had other plans. But also…he knew one that wanted it more, and would do a better job. It seemed though that the two did not think to far off from each other, as it was Adam speaking the thoughts going through Zyphlin's head before they reached his mouth. Smiling Zyph nodded, promising to relay the message. He went to head out but was firmly pulled back into an embrace, one he gladly returned before heading out.
    He moved through the streets, his feet taking him to the shadows that had became his protectors once more without even realizing it, heading towards the inn. Slipping in quietly he scanned around it, finding what he wanted.

    Moving up quietly behind the woman he tapped her on her shoulder, giving a tiny smile down to her. "Mind if we have that drink we talked about?"

    Grinning up Skyla nodded, handing him up a bottle of elven wine, "Already ahead of you."

    They talked for a while downstairs, sipping upon their wine and catching up a bit. Her curious about what had happened to him and why he left, him always steering the conversation away from such topics. He told her of the job proposition, which brought the smile to his face he had hoped so much to see. He had a lot he wanted to tell her and to ask, as he knew she did as well. More then most others she had been his life support, her along with one other being the ones to give him purpose in his life once more, something that the shell of a man he became could still do for the good even without anything inside. Sadly however he could barely say any of it, for the "yes's" and "no's" and other bits of conversation filling the bar kept them from any real conversation.

    Finally she looked up, taking a sip, then gritting her teeth before speaking. "Do you want to go upstairs? This chatter is driving me insane?"

    Chuckling very slightly he nodded. "I was about to ask the same, I've had my fill of noisy bars over the past few months to last me a decade. I'll get us a room."

    And so they got up, taking their drinks with them, and moved upstairs in the mermaid, talking throughout the night until they both passed out, content to at least no the other as there again.

    (( This event isn't done yet, and a Part Four will be added once its done which hopefully should be saturday night. ))**_


  • The Homecoming

    Skyla smiled at her son, who seemed to be having a grand time in his bath, slapping the water, gurgling, and doing his utmost to see that his mother was drenched from head to toe. Skyla didn’t care. She loved every second of it anyways, making silly faces and smiling at Nickolai. At this moment, she was holding everything she had ever wanted in her arms.

    Sighing deeply, she placed Nickolai in his bassinet, tucking him in as he drifted off to sleep, dreaming an innocent’s dreams. Never had she loved something so much as she did her child. Well, almost never.

    Leaving her child to sleep, she stepped out of the room, and went down the hall to knock on the door of Nickolai’s nurse.

    “I’m going out for the evening, and Nickolai is sleeping now. Keep an eye on him, and if anything happens, you know how to find me.”

    As she exited the building, she took a deep breath, inhaling the night air. The town was calm and quiet, all the villagers having gone to bed for the night. It was rough staying up so many nights to complete her job, and she hoped it would be over soon. She felt guilty for the little amount of time she could spend with her son, but … a job was a job.

    The air brushed passed her cheek, brushing her hair over to her shoulder as her hand went up to her neck as it often did these days. Her fingers reached out to caress the Tymoran coin she wore, only to find it gone.

    Her eyes going wide, Skyla spun around, her eyes looking for the coin. She couldn’t lose such a valuable and sentimental item. It was all she had left of…

    Suddenly, she felt a tap on her back, and she spun around again. But nothing was there.

    “Who’s there? Show yourselves, this isn’t funny!”

    No one answered.

    Skyla shook her head. Obviously she was imagining things. She must have left the coin back in Nickolai’s room, that was it.

    –-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    He had watched her for days now, one of the many he had became a Dark Angel for, peering from the darkness of the shadows, ever vigilant and watchful. He smiled as he watched her play with his necklace. It was beautiful on her, but he missed it terribly.

    His heart hated him for not letting her know he was there, to at least know she had her friend there watching over her as he had since she was born. But how could he confront her now, broken and empty. The Zyphlin she knew may've been able to, but he did not feel like that man anymore.

    Then it struck him. Perhaps he could let her know she had her guardian still, and get that lost piece of him back around his neck, all at once.

    He watched her for days until the right moment came. He saw her outside in Jiyyd, gently holding her beautiful son in her arms, the sun beaming down upon them both making them glow. He pulled out some tools of his art, ones he used seldom but still had some skill with due to his dexterous hands and eyes for detail, and went to work.

    Once finished he stored his creation within his pocket, only one last thing to do now. Waiting outside her house one night he watched her leave. Creeping behind her, the shadows giving him the protection from her eyes, he deftly snatched his Coin from her neck. The very next moment, he was back within the shaded blackness, out of her sight, just a moment before she turned.

    While she looked around nervously, trying to understand what had happened, he slipped into the house. Quietly moving past the door of the nanny's and into her son's room. There he pulled out the piece of art he had worked on for those past few days and hung it over her son's crib before moving out into the darkness once more, back into the shadows that had became his home.

    Skyla frowned as she walked back towards the building that held her son inside. She hated the feeling that was growing in the pit of her stomach.

    ‘Always listen to your gut’ he had always said.

    Her gut was telling her now that something was up, and that the coin hadn’t disappeared by mere chance alone.

    As she entered the house, she drew the air deep within her, the familiar scents of vanilla, spice, and elvish wine filling her head. His scents. She had smelled them for days, and she knew that he was here somewhere. Why he had stayed away, even though he was back home, and the reason was beyond her understanding.

    Looking down the hallway, she noticed that the door was open a little more than she had left it. Stepping into the room, she noticed a golden sparkle, dangling from the edge of Nickolai’s crib. Picking it up, she let the gold chain thread through her fingers.

    Laughing in amusement, she opened the small locket, seeing a picture of herself holding her son painted to the inside, on the other side of the locket, a pair of beloved initials. Initials that let her know that she was never alone, and she and her son would always be safe.

    “Hmmm…. A fair trade I guess… this time,” Skyla said to no one in particular, grinning wryly.

    Before Skyla left once more, she walked over to the chest of drawers next to the crib, taking out a sheet of parchment and penning a small note, leaving it out in the open for her visitor to see.

    “You are missed Zyphlin. Come back soon,” Skyla whispered into the room before she finally left.

    He had moved to leave, to slip out unseen, when he heard her entering again. Looking around he spotted the window and quickly moved it up and slipped out of it, ducking quickly around the corner of the wall as she walked in.

    He heard her moving through her room, the happy little laugh as she found the locket. He heard her kind words, closing his eyes slightly as they pained his heart. He wanted to go to her, just as he had wanted to so many times these ten days with her and others, but still his feet remained still untill he heard her leave.

    Slipping in quietly he peered over at the note, looking at the words curiously. He considered the words as he went over to the crib, looking down at the cute child asleep in it, and then headed out the window, closing it tight.

    He started the trek back to Peltarch then, slipping through the shadows of the Nars as he played the words of her note through his head. Finally it dawned on him, and taking his coin he looked along its rim.

    "Although there are many roads I travel, they always lead me to one place. Home."


  • _Six years they had loved, and known love. Six years they had spent in each others arms, embracing, laughing and knowing only the joy that was each other, and through this time none understood why. For the first three years of their relationship they had kept their love secret, even the closest friends of Zyphlin whom he confided all to, was unaware, and the thing that had made it public was the fact it had become impossible to hide.

    They loved, they lived, they took each day as it came with little plans for the future and when Gildor crept through the door at four in the morning and crawled cold, battered, beaten and tired under the blankets of the sleeping magistrate, and he stirred, awoke with a smile and brushes her hair from her bruised face and asked where she had been, she replied "don't ask if you do not want me to lie" and she would kiss the tip of his nose and he would hold her cold body tight, stroking her nodding in understanding and that was their life.

    They had an understanding, he lived his life out in the day, and she in the night, but what had kept them strong was passion, and trust, he knew she would never do anything to betray him, and she knew he would never do anything to cause her harm.

    They were the oddest couple in Peltarch, and all that people could say was "why? What does he see in her?" and all they could whisper to her was "Why? why do you choose such a man?" and neither Zyphlin or Gildor could answer them.

    But in one night it had all changed, in one single action had broken their world, struck down like a lightening splitting a tree, a tree that now lay separated on the ground never to know life again._

    It was cold the night Gildor twisted the key to her home on bardic street corner. To her shock and bewilderment the door flew open by the mer touch and she realized quickly that somebody had been there. She moved inside carefully, nervous for the fact she barely could run in her pregnant stage, and frightened about whom could have sought interest in her home. She wasn't alone, behind her was the childs father, his eyes upon the shadows, watching, scanning the room, and eased her mind by confirming the "person" had long departed.

    She shut the door and gave him a troubled look, it didn't take much for her to identify that the door had been picked, and so next she moved to the hearth to spot something left on the door of her wardrobe. A note? She pulled the dagger out and read it out loud. "Ever Watchful" was the message, but what could it possible mean? Was it a threat? a warning? she stood with the blade in her hand and pulled the door of her cabinet open to looked inside. All seemed in order at first glance, and so she hurriedly moved to the bedside, pulling a drawer open.

    She stood for a while peering in to the drawer, her mind racing to puzzle together the clues. Zyphlins belongings was missing, hers was still here, but somebody had taken his shirts and trousers. The man asked if Zyphlins items had any value, but why would the "thief" take none of hers? She looked at the dagger in her hand, turning it once, before her wrist grew weak, trembled and the weapon dropped.

    Gildor fell to the floor, sitting, glaring in to the floorboards in silence.

    Zyphlin, it had his initials on the back, he was back? Or it was a prank? it was a damn cruel prank if it was. The man asked what she would do if he had returned, but Gildor did not answer, too early to answer, too early to know.

    Confused, and lost she took his hand and they moved to the bed, he held her tight whiles she secretly glanced at the dagger behind his back.

    The next morning Gildor got up and made herself a cup of tea.


  • Thank you all for the kind words once again. 🙂


  • _Catch me as I fall,
    say you're here and it's all over now.
    Speaking to the atmosphere,
    no one's here and I fall into myself.
    This truth drives me into madness.
    I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away.

    "Here, let me get down there and help you get it out."

    At this the old grey haired bard watch the barbarian woman walking out easily, a chest on her shoulder.

    "Or you can just do it yourself, that works too."

    She sat it down, looking over the chest curiously.

    "Let me look at it, I've got a talent for these kind of things."

    However the woman didn't really seem to take much notice, looking over the locks and mechanisms of the chest as the bard futilely tried to peer over her broad tall shoulders and finally settled for around her biceps.

    All this Zyphlin watched from the shadows. He had entered the town quietly, moving through the opaque darkness of the streets, until he had saw the two of them off in the little garden near the commons. He crouched down, taking cover between some barrels and the shadows, watching quietly as they seemed to be milling around the garden. It had seemed lightening had begun to rain down upon an area there, tickling the curiosity of the old bard and finally causing him to dig down into the ground there, which eventually led to the discovery of the aforementioned chest.

    Staying low he saw the man that was now his replacement come up, regarding the two coming out of the whole curiously. He listened to them talk, trying to figure out what was best to do with the chest, till they finally decided to drag it back to the theater to examine it as they were joined by the lieutenant of the far scouts.

    The four, the barbarian woman lugging the chest, headed through the streets of Peltarch, and Zyphlin followed through the shadows(smiling slightly to himself I might add, for he knew he was far from the first sneak to tail the most famous bard in all of Narfell). Watching them enter into the college he cursed his loss of the key to the door, but knew another way. Quickly he dashed into the docks, moving through the alleys he had grew to learn so much better in the past tenday, to the entrance into the sewers. Slipping out one of his keys lining the inside of his vest he quickly unlocked the gates and moved in. Once underneath he took to a sprint, dashing through the sewer passes, his mind going slightly to the happier times years ago when a relationship and friendship that seemed like it would last forever was blooming for just a moment, until he reached the gate he needed. Rolling it down he made it to the door he knew would lead into the guild. Grabbing the key he was gifted from his brother bard, he slipped in.

    He crept through the halls of his beloved theater, following the voices he heard wafting through them. He heard all four of the ones who he had saw come in but there was another voice he heard, a sweet voice that settled his warring heart for just a moment. Creeping forward invisible and silent he saw her there, the one who's letter was the final strand to of rope pulling him back to this land.

    They had managed to open the chest and it appeared that within they had found a glorious harp. Adam had it in his hands, looking over curiously as Lucia and Azreal looked over the chest. He listened to them speak for a time, trying to get a bearing upon were to go from there, until Adam finally stated they should check the library.

    Zyphlin, hearing the plan, moved off before them, planning on slipping in and hiding within the library before they arrive. Once within he crept behind a shelf, magic hiding him as well while his boots kept him light and silent. After a minute Skyla, Adam, and Evendur moved in, the other two apparently leaving, uninterested in such studies. The three took to the books, looking for what information they could.

    He watched with interest and as he watched he deeply wanted to pull off his helm and join them, to see their smiles and to help them. But despite his heart asking him for such a thing his mind kept him silent and still. He listened as they searched, flipping through the pages of book, until he heard them find it. Flipping it open they peered over the pages, trying to find what information they could about the harp. As they looked he heard Bromley speak up, stating his wish Zyphlin was there.

    The words sent a pain through his heart, listening as he asked Skyla if she had heard from them. As he listened to them speak about him the need to go to them, to rely on them and to allow them to help him, but still he stayed where he was, tucked behind the book shelf.

    They turned back to their work, finding some passages concerning it and beginning to piece together the puzzle of it. The pages were faded, many words missing, and it was hard to work it. Adam was trying to find a way to restore it, thinking aloud. With their concentration was on the book Zyphlin decided it was his time to leave, the pain of the conversation earlier and his inability to move on it being to much on him, slipping out the door. However a thought passed through his head and he quickly penned a note pointing them in the direction of some things going on in Narfell and advice on the restoring the book, and pinned it to the door with one of his daggers.

    As he made his way back out he thought on the reason for the leaving the dagger there, the one with his initials etched into it. Maybe it was a subconscious cry for help, maybe it was to let them know he was watching out for them, maybe he simply wanted to feel close to them in some way. He didn't know, and he pushed the thought away, for it only added to the dread feeling he had for avoiding them all. However despite the pain he felt due to the decision and from seeing them he felt that was what was needed, and thus he bit down against this resolve and forced the pain back away into the box he had stored it all in, locked away deep inside._


  • Lovin' it! 🙂


  • _I know a place where we can be free.
    Away from the shackles of daily routine.
    Escape from the demons that crowd your mind.
    It's there for the taking, seek and you'll find.

    He rested on top of one of the larger buildings of the dock districts, nestled into the shadows against an old fashioned gargoyle as he looked down upon the city he had so long considered as his. He had been here for a tenday now, still managing to avoid detection from anyone save for the times he meant to reveal clues. Always in the shadows, always lurking and hiding. The shadows gave a sense of security, of safety for him, a place he could relax and empty his mind of all the horrors and demons that lurked within.

    It was as he was sitting there, thinking and brooding within the shade of night, when he heard the scream from deeper within the docks. He bolted up, sliding his helm quickly back onto his head and hands going to the hilts of his weapons at this side, and started along the roof tops in the direction of the scream.

    He leaped from roof top to roof top, slowly getting closer to the ground as he moved, picking his targets as he approached. Finally, in an alley between two low level buildings, he saw it. A group of four men, one of which was dressed in the garb of a blood spider, had a young woman trapped between them. She was badly beaten, and cowering now, crying as the four men looked on, leering at her.

    Zyphlin looked down upon them, his eyes lingering on the blood spider in his black and red outfit. Before his eyes the man changed in his vision, his minds playing tricks on him. He no longer saw the stocky slicked hair man in the blood spider outfit, instead he saw the man that had begun to haunt his dreams, his thoughts. He saw him garbed in red, the metal coif over his head, the smirk on his face and the blades at his side that had nearly ended Zyphlin's life.

    Without thinking he began to hum, the deep dark death march, the Dirge, that had been on his lips for so long since he left Peltarch. The song began to rise, becoming louder but keeping the deep brooding pitch as he tensed his legs. The four looked up at the sound and as their eyes looked up they saw a shadow of death darting down from the roof tops, what the woman would later call a Dark Angel there to save her life.

    His blades bit into the first one, piecing straight through his chest before a scream could escape his lips. With the body impaled he turned it to the others, shielding himself from two thrown daggers by the none blood spider thugs remaining. Shucking it aside he reached into his pout, producing a small instrument, growing even as he wall pulling it out. The strings were gone, but in his fury, in his connection with the weave and the Dirge, he needed no strings. He pluck a cord from strings that were now there and a loud deep tone pitched out at the two, hitting their ears and sending them to the ground asleep.

    He turned now, eyes blazing from behind the helm, square on the blood spider who he did not see, he only saw the man of his vengeance, of his hatred. He stalked forward as the blood spider came on, longsword high. Zyphlin dodged out of the first strike, parrying the second, playing with the man. Finally on the third strike he parried it high, sending the spider off balance long enough to jab a short sword straight up through his throat and into his skull. Swinging his blade down to his side he brought a foot up and booted the dead man off his blade.

    The woman looking up at him stood in terror for a moment, seeing a dark man akin to a shadow standing there, his breath heavy and thick, the hum never stopping but instead increasing in intensity, in rage as he stared down at the man. She took her chance, and ran, thankful to have her life.

    His eyes bore down on the dead blood spider, seeing the man there, seeing the laughing face, until it finally slowly faded along with the rage and the Dirge. Looking to the two sleeping culprits he moved over to them, binding their hands. Turning them all invisible he dragged them over to the front of the Guard House before turning back up into the shadows that allowed him to escape the daily troubles of life and the demons that dwelled within him_


  • _Here's to the nights
    We felt alive
    Here's to the tears
    You knew you'd cry
    Here's to goodbye
    Tomorrow's gonna come too soon

    He left the inn quietly, the rage dieing down and understanding coming to him. He knew he had to try to move on, try to force it, no matter the pain it may cause. He quickly moved through the streets to his house…“Her house now” he thought…and reached to his side for his “keys” he had used so long. Picking out the right lock pick he slipped it into the lock and popped it easy.

    Into the house he slipped. He could smell the sweet sent of her tea, of her hair, but he could smell something else. Something poignant, something foreign. He didn't need to think of what the smell was, what it could be. It was the smell of another, it was the smell of betrayal. He stuffed his rage back down, along with the sudden feeling or pain that shot through his heart. He went about his intended goal, moving from place to place within the house gathering all his possessions. He stuffed it quickly into a bag, shuffling memories aimlessly in a daze into the sack.

    Finally, once he had removed it all he moved to sit. At first on the bed he had spent so many nights at first by himself, then with her in his arms, and then stopped. No, he knew what had likely been going on in that bed, and he would not touch it. Instead he moved to a chair, sitting quietly, and pulling out a flash of elven wine. He poured a glass, feeling the tears of memories streak down his face, and took a small sip, tasting the liquid as it mixed with the salt of his tears. After the sip he moved over to the hole to the sewers, dumping the rest with a small prayer.

    He began to leave, when his eyes went to the pot. A cold thought came through his mind, a thought so malicious it shocked him it even passed. He remembered what he had within one of his boxes, old items of an investigation. His mind played with what would happen to a child with such vile machinations running through its veins before its birth, the amount of pain it would cause the woman. But his heart pushed it away, it would not allow for such evil thoughts to happen this night, and it could still not…even after all this…bare that much ill will towards her…though her lover was a different story. Instead, he took out a note, writing something simple on it. A threat, and a promise, all in one, and with a dagger nailed it to the cabinet as a final goodbye before moving out into the night._


  • very, very good, a pleasure to read as always.

    😉


  • _Hit or miss, fuck or fight
    its time to live your life
    go ahead, I know I´m right
    I´m gonna lay it on the line
    put yourself in my shoes
    would you stand up for your rights?
    Line´em up and knock´em down
    I´m not running scared tonight!

    He was moving quietly through the streets of Peltarch, thinking silently as he slid through the different shadows. He had saw her the day before, sitting there in the commons. He had planned on heading out there to sit in his old seat, and at the least watch his old friends. But when he had saw her his knees had gone weak and his heart screamed out against him. He had stopped for a moment, simply staring, until his mind reminded his lungs they needed to take in oxygen if he had planned on making it past the next minute or so.

    Now he paced the streets, confused, alone, unsure of why he let his feet bring him back here. He had found out a lot about the group of Ikurus's, and was working hard to do some good concerning that and those involved, but what did that really matter? Was it really doing any good? And then there were his friends, he had saw many the past few days but couldn't get the courage to speak to them, to show his face and say “Hi” to those he had once held so close. And then there was her, the specter that would not leave his thoughts. He had passed their old house…¦hell his old house till he conceded it to her when she wanted to buy it and asked him if he minded…a number of times, mind and heart giving a hundred different messages, all of which conflicted.

    He needed to get his mind off things, he needed to get past these thoughts somehow. It was then that he heard the young crier boy running through the street proclaiming the “Titans War” was happening within the ferret. He had heard of them before, and he thought perhaps a bit of a battle could do him well and let him release some of his frustration and anger. As well, he knew who now owned it. Knew the Red Bastard that likely moved through that place, who watched over it, who probably had the woman he loved up in the rooms above countless times by now.

    He pushed the thoughts out of his head. It didn't help anything, it was self defeating and did him no good. So what, if the whore was with him so be it, it was none of his concern. He kept telling it to himself, repeating it in his mind as a mantra, trying to clear his head. She was nothing, a cheap slut that did nothing but played out a self fulfilling prophecy, the type that only happen because the person wants them to.

    The confusion now was offset with rage, and that was good. Rage was good. Confusion was hard to think through, but rage, rage was easy to release. He made his way to the ferret, slipping through the shadows with ease. He spoke to Anah there, knowing exactly what to say to the flirty waitress to get the backroom pass. He had spent a good deal of coin there in the slots before, a small habit of his, however he had decided that night he would give no more of his money to the man that tried to kill his body and that did destroy his soul then he absolutely had to. He glided down the stairs to the arena, seeing many that he knew, but one in particular.

    There she sat, watching it all, fat with the sin of her deeds. His feet begged to leave, to turn and flee, but he kept them there. He let the rage build, let the hum of anger and despair fill him. Gripping his blade he focused his eyes on the ring, stepping out of the shadows and cloak and striding straight to the middle, staring at those around, cold eyes looking through the metal of his helm, daring anyone to step in.

    In walked a cleric, one he had seen before and knew any other day would've walked over him in such a dual. Any other day the holy powers of war welling within her would have over taken him. Unlike past days though, this time something was different. This time the field of battle was covered by the haze of rage, of anger, of pain. This time there was a point to the battle.

    She began to cast and he let her, walking slowly. Let her have her spells, his blades would strike despite it. Finally she came at him as he strode forward, her sword coming down. He smirked, a vicious smile hidden by the helm, blocking her blade and stabbing out, slipping his dagger in through the crease of her armor, surprising her.

    She backed off, regaining herself as he stepped back himself, beginning a hum of a low and powerful Dirge, the dark song the embodiment of all he was feeling a that moment. And with that they lunged back in, blades going, spells being wove. Each strike of his blade was done with purpose, with force, with his very being placed within it. Each parry knocking her blade away with pure and utter determination.

    The battle went on for near ten minutes while the competitors matched blades and spells, as the woman on the outside and Zyphlin's closest friend exchanged a numbered of pointed glances while watching. Finally Bob, the rotund man running the battle, called for it to end, declaring it a draw. Zyphlin's fists clenched his blades tight, a draw was not what he wanted. He craved a victory, he craved blood, but it seemed he would not get it that night. As the gates opened he stalked out, ignoring the questions and the looks of those around him. With a step past the rest he called forth onto the weave, cloaking himself from sight, and moved away.

    As he walked away, his back towards her, he could feel the rage tingling through his body but a single tear slide down his cheek. He would not run, he would not leave, no matter how much he wanted. There were things he had to do here, things he could help with, things he could make work, and he would not let her whorish indiscretions keep him from that or cause him to flee. He would not run._


  • _Every single day
    Every word you say
    Every game you play
    Every night you stay
    I'll be watching you

    [Day One, Encounter One]

    "Now we've got a name."

    Zyphlin stayed low, listening as the two talked, smirking slyly as he listened to their plans.

    "Crimson Tide, you like?"

    "Its got a certain ring to it" Cray said with a small half smile.

    As Zyphlin listened more he started realizing more of the story, putting the pieces together just like his mind had been conditioned to do. The pale on, Ikurus, was reforming Deacons little pirate band. Zyph had be wondering how long it would be before someone would try that after hearing about Deacon's departure, but never would've guessed this kid to be the one.

    As the story continued more information came out which he took into his head with greedy need. Stories of drug dealing, pirating, prostitution, and a dozen other things were told. It was a start, but Zyphlin needed names. But he knew he would get them. He would watch this one, he would become his shadow, and when the time came that shadow would consume him.

    [Day One, Encounter Two]

    He watched the two move away, their little talk done, thinking they were so cunning, so smooth. Perhaps they were, maybe it was nothing but luck that he had managed to be there, at that moment, in those shadows to listen. But then, luck is the department of those devout to Tymora wasn't it.

    He had planned on moving out then, getting somewhere to pass on the information if he could, but he caught sight of someone out of the corner of his eyes. A beautiful young raven haired woman, a definite foreign and exotic feel to her, wrapped in teal armor. "Where have I seen that woman before?" he thought, and then it hit him. She was the mute woman, the one studying under Mirkali and Adam. Satisfied being able to place her he went to move on his way, until he saw her begin to follow Ikurus.

    What in all hell's was she getting into. She couldn't be just another of his whores could she? No, she seemed to at least have some sense about her despite apprenticing under Bromley and Mirkali (You see, a little known secret of that family line is that none of them may be sane nor have any sense about them). Stalking quietly over after the woman he found she was heading towards the large archers tower to the east. He moved underneath the structure, moving between the wooden legs of the tower and staying low within the darkness it cast from blocking out the sun. Quietly he crept beneath the ramp up, hearing the voices of Ikurus and an elven woman he had known by the name of Erevaine and a third, strained and quiet, that he figured must've been Taira's.

    He listened as they talked and bantered. The more he heard from Ikurus the more he realized the mage was nothing more then a child that had bit off far to much he could chew. He had some talent about him for manipulating people, that was something, but someone was definitely pulling most of his strings at any time.

    Hearing the words and the tone of Erevaine he knew exactly who it was. The woman was forceful, truthful but yet lieing at all the same time. A talent Zyphlin couldn't help but feel a grudging respect to. Every word the woman said was in a calm friendly tone but seemed like it must've been lined with deadly poison.

    It seemed Taira must've had dealings with prostitution or the sort in her past, as she was far from pleased with hearing about Ikurus's current business. The three bickered for some time as Zyphlin listened, keeping note of what was important but realizing something further. He wanted information, he wanted to stop this group from growing, but he realized then he also wished to look out for this woman. For one she seemed to be dating his protégé which meant that Ikurus would be likely to feel Zyph's dagger deep in his back if he so much as touched her. But more then that, she was now a kin of Zyphlin in a way, a fellow bard in his line, and for that he felt a form of protectiveness over her.

    He heard Erevaine finally get sick of the conversation and leave, trying to act calm but sounding nothing like it in the connotations of her voice. Once she leaved Ikurus's whole attitude changed, as Zyphlin assumed it would. He was a lot less confident, and a lot more considerate to the feelings of Taira, but of course the woman wasn't having any of it. "Good girl" Zyphlin thought with a small smirk on his face.

    However, Zyphlin had no intentions of making her do the job all by herself. Casting a quick spell of invisibility and grabbing a hold onto the top of the archers tower he flipped himself up, landing squarely and quietly crouched on top staring down at Ikurus. Slowly he moved down behind him, blade out and ready. He watched as Taira was around the corner then moved up to Ikurus, a blade sliding around flat against the mans throat, the other pointed sharply into the middle of his back.

    "Listen and listen well boy…" Zyphlin said, flatly and cold, quietly into the ear of Ikurus. "If someone so much as touches a hair on her head...you or your men...you will die and lose BOTH your heads. savvy'" the last bit said in a mocking tone mimicking Ikurus before he pushed the mage forward, giving him a chance to dive back down off the ramp and move back into the shadows.

    He smiled slyly behind his helm, he could hear the mages nervous words as he felt the metal leave, blubbering about trying to figure out what was going on. Taira was assuring him it was Karma, and that brought a small silent chuckle to Zyphlin. Karma perhaps, fate, luck, whatever you'd like to call it…but the simple fact was that she had found herself a Guardian Angel, albeit a dark one.

    [Day One, Encounter Three]

    He had slipped off once more, now outside the gates of Norwick. He had found a nice tree to slip up into, with enough shade to keep him shadowed from sight. He wanted to watch, and make sure that the fool mage understood what was expected out of him. Let him go about his little business of prostitution and games, someone would get him in the end, but he was not to touch Taira.

    The foreign lass was continuing her declaration of karma, speaking a strange tongue continually to Ikurus, trying to persuade the poor by that he was getting hexed. However he wasn't buying it to much, and more so, it was making him start to get some sense of real footing. If it wasn't Karma like she keeps saying then maybe it was just his imagination, or just some freak thing. That was likely what was going through his head, or at least what he was he seemed to be thinking as his actions picked up.

    Shaking his head slightly Zyphlin reached into his belt, producing a fine throwing dagger. "That kind of thinking just won't do" he thought to himself, smirking slightly. One last message, a bit more of a permanent reminder to the young mage.

    Quickly he penned a note and attached it to his dagger. Setting up his aim right he let fly with the missile, quickly diving back afterwards and throwing and invisibility up as he rolled into the shadows unseen. The dagger flew true, screaming right past the ear of Ikurus and burying itself in the wall.

    The people around him gave a small cry of surprise as the dagger whistled by. He nervously picked it up, looking around, his fear and suspicion rising back up quickly. "Good," Zyphlin mused, "that's what it was supposed to do."

    Ikurus quickly unfolded the note, looking over the hidden message within; "Remember my warning boy, and all will be well."

    [Day Two, Encounter One]

    He moved through the woods like a stalker, hunting his pray. However this time his pray was no deer or other game, it was a pink haired bard that he had months back put much hope into.

    He followed stealthily as her and the nature cleric moved through the Rawlins. He wanted to talk to her about something, about the half-orc Gagor. He saw the reaction on her face and knew what she was thinking. After all, Gagor was to be part of their group.

    He slipped up into a tree, listening quietly as the nature cleric recited his tale of horror about the half-orc to the young bard. He waited for the right moment, he knew it would come, as the young bard sat and listened to her lover. Finally she spoke up, words going about the tide. That was his moment, and with expert aim he sent his dagger darting down, stabbing next to her. He leapt from the tree's, wrapping himself in the weave for extra protection from view. The cleric darted from the little cleft in the forest, looking with anger for the man he thought had attempted to take the life of his love, however he saw no one. The young bardic lass however had the dagger in hand and looked at the note attached with slight trepidation.

    [Day Six, Encounter One]

    Things were moving quick and well now. The information he had uncovered was skillfully placed in the right hands, and they acted upon it so perfect to what he wanted that they could've been attached to marionette strings. Two of the bards had been talked to and taken, another soon perhaps, if shaken enough.

    He saw them enter town, saw the nervous looks of the man he had became the shadow of over the past tenday. A small smirk came over his face at that look, knowing his hopes of paranoia had succeeded. Him and the monk left the still free bard in the commons and moved off to talk to a woman Zyph had trusted would use the information well, and that she had. Infiltrating their ranks and gaining their trust, at least partially enough to get some information that was needed.

    He followed after, listening to their talks, and the worried words of the mage. Time was growing short however. He needed to keep him on edge just a little longer before the net was set. He didn't plan on getting him arrested, not if he took notice to these warnings and actually seemed to change his ways. But the more he watched the more it seemed that wouldn't happen.

    Watching and hearing the mage's words he realized however that the master actress still couldn't compete to much with coincidence. Coincidence is perhaps the one sense that those lacking real wisdom can touch on so easily, oddly enough. He needed to make sure to keep her safe, at least partially, and knew and easy way to do it. From the roof topics he let fly another dagger, barely missing the beautiful red head, and slamming into a wall. Like a shadow he was off, he had one more thing to do that day. The note and dagger would do enough there to assure she wasn't in league with him.

    [Day Six, Encounter Two]

    He penned a quick note before descending into the commons, sliding gracefully from shadow to shadow over to the bard Lilly. Silently dropping the note next to her he turned tail, back up into the rooftops and shadows, letting the note do its work.

    She looked over it, and as she did he saw the confusion on her face. He would discover the reason for that later in coming tendays. However at the time she simply looked at it confused and then seeing Ikurus return gave it to him.

    The pale mage looked over the note and frowned, not wishing to tell the bard what it said. "Fine, that works even better" the shadow singer thought. And sure enough, it did as needed. The young lass was nervous and worried. She bid Ikurus to head to Norwick but let her stay in Peltarch a bit longer. He wasn't to happy with it but an arrow, its tip a gooey mass instead of an arrow head, slamming into his side and emitting a deep low dirge magically, quickly changed his thoughts. With a low mutter the mage agreed and headed down the Nars.

    [Day Eleven, Encounter One]

    He watched quietly as the main whore whose name he had heard came near the north gate of Norwick along with a rather large armored human. Zyphlin gave a small smirk as he thought about the fact that most large armored men rarely hear lithe quiet ones.

    He had realized that the time for intimidation, of fear, had passed. Ikurus was not going to veer from his path, or more so some of the people pulling his strings wouldn't allow it in the long run. The first cards had been dealt, the flop was down, and he'd been playing the cards. Now it was time to flip the last and let them show their hands.

    Sending one last dagger, his cards in this little poker game, down near the whore. She seemed an easily excitable one and it proved to be true. The dagger and the note attached, proclaiming an end to all whores that were riding the tide, sent her into a worried frenzy. Her and the man looked everywhere for the owner of the dagger but to no avail.

    Zyphlin was already off, tucking into a dark corner of the Boarshead. Ikurus would be back down soon, and she'd obviously go running to him. Now it was time to see what his hand held.

    [Day Eleven, Encounter Two]

    She told him he needed to talk to him.

    He looked at her face, and his lit up with frustration and anger.

    "Stop…...Let - Me -Guess."

    And guess he did, and she nodded in agreement to it, handing him the dagger and note.

    He calmed, his words smooth, his motions seeming confident and logical.

    It was obvious the emotions that were running deeper, the breaking point had.

    The cards were dealt, the last bets were made. And Zyphlin slipped out of the bar and up to Peltarch to lay his hand down.

    [Day Eighteen, Encounter One]

    He slipped down into the jail he had worked in for so long, slipping through the shadows easily and avoiding the routes of the guards. Moving quietly through the stone jail, his boots padding his foot falls against the hard ground, until he saw him. Slumped down against the wall, the smirk gone from his pale face, draped in rags. Zyphlin turned to leave, and he took the pot._