3. Talgris Caldason

Talgris Caldason


  • Talgris and Pira sat in silence. So much had come back to them at the moment of their union. So many sad and painfull memories. Things they never would have imagined were there. They had been with each other as they re-lived their turmoil. Even now, they shared each other's grief. Making it harder and easier to bear all at once.

    "Are you guys alright?" Syne asked.

    Talgris finally looked at him. The pain was still there but at least he could move again. "We're fine." Talgris said. "We just both got a big dose of bad memories."

    "Pira got her memory back?" Syne asked.

    The pixxie simply nodded sadly. "Yes, so did Talgris."

    Syne looked horribly confused. "Talgris? Who's that?"

    Talgris raised his hand at the sorcerer. "It's my real name. It was the name my mother gave me."

    "So who named you Gatsu?" Syne asked.

    "My father." The words were bitter in his mouth. "He wanted his son to have the name of a hero."

    "Talgris ain't a bad name. A little strange but hey." Syne said shrugging. "You mean you didn't remember your own name?"

    "No. It seems I didn't." Talgris said smiling sadly. He looked down to where Pira stood, looking down at her feet.

    "How can I ever face them again?" Pira asked still crying. "I've done such terrible things."

    "It will take time Pira." Talgris said. "Many of them weren't even here to witness the attacks. Don't worry about them. What you need to do is to be able to forgive yourself…....like I have to....for letting my mother die."

    "But that wasn't your fault!" Pira cried out.

    "Niether was it yours for what you did." Talgris responded. "You were under a spell. You can't blame yourself for this."

    Syne looked from one to the other as they talked. "I guess you guys have a lot to catch up on. How about I meet you back at the Inn?"

    "Sure." Talgris said. "And thank you. We couldn't have done this without you."

    "Yes thank you Syne." Pira added.

    "I'm just glad I could help." Syne said. "Let me know if you need anything." With that the sorcerer was on his way, leaving Talgris and Pira near the windmill. "Talgris?" he said on his way down the hill. "Sure, why not?"

    Again Talgris and Pira were in silence. They looked at each other, finding confort in each other's presence.

    "So I guess you don't want to be called Gatsu anymore huh?" Pira asked shyly.

    "It's hard not to think of myself as Gatsu." Talgris said. "Its the name I've lived with most of my life. I've gotten kind of used to it."

    "I'll do my best to call you Talgris from now on."

    "Thank you." Talgris said.

    "What do we do now?" Pira asked.

    "I don't know." Talgris responded. "What can we do?"

    "Talgris." Pira said.

    "Yes?" Talgris asked.

    "I want to help the pixxies. I want them to be free from the darkness. I want them to stop hurting people." Pira seemed to brighten.

    "You mean go into the glen?" Talgris looked incredulous. "What if they attack Pira? I'll have to defend myself. I don't want you to watch me kill your family."

    Pira seemed to take her time thinking of what to say next. "They are not my family, they are more than that. They are...my people. But if it's the only way to help them Gat..Talgris,....I won't hate you if you need to fight back."

    "I'll do what I can." Gatsu replied. "Hopefully it won't come to that. There are ways of going places without being seen. We should ask the druids of the Rawlinswood about your home and its current state. They might know something that can come in handy."

    "I wasn't there when the grigs came to live in the glen." Pira said. "Maybe they're a clue as to what happened."

    "It's possible." Talgris rose from his place. "We should try to find Fade. She might know something."

    "Okay." Pira said fluttering up to Talgris's shoulder. "Where do you think she is?"

    "In the woods....where she belongs." Talgris smiled. "I'll just need to stop by the Inn for a bite first."

    Pira shivered. "I'm telling you. That Misty lady makes pixxie juice!"

    "Only out of pixxie dust." Talgris laughed. "But I suggest you hide in my pack just in case."

    Pira giggled and made her way into Talgris's back pack. Maybe things would be okay after all. It was a lot to swallow for just one day but as long as they were together, they could help each other. Pira was glad she had run into Talgris that night out in the Rawlins. Talgris could not have asked for a sweater friend.


  • Gleamer heard a scream come from outside his home.

    "What now?" He grumbled. Walking over to his window he pulled back the brown rag that served as a curtain and saw a flash of orange light cut right past him. The suddened movement startled him and he nearly fell back. "What was…" Gleamer slowly pulled back the rag and saw the streets of Norwick alive with dancing lights. The pixxies were attacking again. He saw as the people ran, calling out for the guards to come rescue them. Gleamer stared mesmorized at the deadly beauty of the attacking pixxies.

    What could have made them so violent? Where were they coming from? Every couple of nights for the last six months, these creatures had staged small concentrated attacks on the town. They would come, burning everything in sight and cutting down everyone they could. Once the guards came out with their torches and the shamans.....damn! Gleamer remembered his appointed responsibility to help chase the fey away when they attacked. He hated to be bothered but being a spellcaster, he had been appointed by the town. A few sparks of magic here and there should be enough.

    Gleamer opened his window and began chanting a fire spell meant to detonate in the middle of the pixxie cloud.

    "Oh no you don't!"

    Gleamer opened his eyes just in time to see a pixxie coming right for him with a small crystal dagger in her hands. He flew back to avoid the attack, crashing into a shelf and showering himself with old tomes and scrolls. The pixxie was on the move. She flew directly at him and plunged her small dagger into his arm, missing his vein by only an inch.

    "Ahhh!" Gleamer shouted out. He tried to grab her but she was to fast. She moved out of his reach. Gleamer waved his hand at the window and it closed tightly. The pixxie came in again, slashing the gnome's shoulder.

    Gleamer stood up holding his wounds and looked at the little pixxie in front of him. She glowed a bright green as she hovered with the blood stained crystal in her hand. She looked like she was more than ready to kill him.

    The pixxie dove for him but Gleamer was faster. He raised his hand and with a single gesture, stopped the pixxie cold in her tracks. She struggled against the incantation that held her but was powerless.

    "Hey! Hey let me go!" she cried. "I'll kill you!"

    Gleamer smiled at the fey. He had always been curious as to what had happened to make these usually passive creatures so bloodthirsty. He had also been looking for something he could use as a proper familiar. Perhaps it was time to kill two birds.

    Gleamer finished the binding ceremony and dove into the pixxie's conciousness, reading her thoughts, seeing her memories. Her name was Pira. She had never been a familiar before. She came from some beautiful grove somewhere in the Rawlinswood. He could not make out where or why she was this way. She was fighting him. She was not letting him in.

    Gleamer did notice something curious. As the binding continued, Pira became less and less violent. Her bloodlust began to die down. It seemed that as they joined, whatever had a hold on her was slowly losing its grip. She became concious of herself. Of her true self. Gleamer was surprised when he saw her fall to her knees weeping horribly.

    "What's wrong Pira?" He asked. "Why are you crying?"

    Pira showed him. Gleamer was flooded with images of her life in the glen. A life of happiness. Carefree and wild. She flew without any worries, any guilt. Then came a fog. A dark shapeless fog that seemed to consume her mind. A darkness that filled her. She was no longer free. She was a prisoner of fear. A prisoner of hate and mistrust. Her people had gone mad. He saw her come to Norwick on many occasions. Taking the lives of men, women, and children alike. Dozens of lives taken. Her hands drenched in blood. Blood of people that had done nothing wrong. She was heart broken and miserable. The weight of her actions all coming together.

    "Oh Pira." Gleamer said. He pitied the little fey. It seemed some kind of dark force had corrupted her and her kind. They had been driven mad. Driven to murder. It was not her fault. She looked so miserable.

    Gleamer was well versed in the binding ceremony. He knew that if he did not focus, the piixxie could learn him most guarded secrets. She could probe his mind as easily as he probed hers. He did not allow Pira to run unchecked through his mind. However, he felt her pain as surely as if it was her own. Her guilt ran so deep she was suffocating from it.

    "It's okay Pira." He said to her. "You don't need to remember any of this. It wasn't your fault. You shouldn't have to suffer like this." Gleamer recited a few words over her and focused on her mind. He would have to wipe out everything. It was the only way he could make sure she never remembered any of it. As the incantation finished Pira looked up at Gleamer with a shocked yet curious look.

    "Hi." she said sweetly. "Who are you?" She wiped at her face, noticing the tears there. "Why am I crying?"

    "My name is Gleamer." the gnome said smiling. "And yours is Pira."

    "Pira." she said. "Where am I? Why can't I remember how I got here?"

    "You've always lived here Pira. This is your home. I'm afraid one of my experiments back fired on me. You were too close when the blast hit you. It must have wiped your memory clean."

    "Oh you're hurt!" Pira said seeing Gleamer holding two bleeding wounds on his arms.

    "It's nothing. Just some glass. I'll clean up here, why don't you go to the room and get some rest."

    "The room?" Pira asked.

    Gleamer smiled warmly. "C'mon. I'll show you where it is. It looks like we might have to start from scratch you and me."

    Pira looked around curiously at the room that served as Gleamer's lab. She saw the knocked over book shelf and the blood on the floor. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

    "Sure." Gleamer responded. "I'm more worried about you."


  • Draven and his son came back from a long day at the town. Draven had taken Gatsu to see a bardic performance at the local tavern. After talking at length with him, the bard began to tell Draven's favorite story. The story of Gatsu, strike leader of the Band of the Hawk. At that point, Gatsu knew it was only a story that his father loved and wanted to see his son live up to. It was strange, but at least he knew it was a story. When exactly it had become part of his family history is something Gatsu did not understand.

    Gatsu went to bed that night with high hopes of pleasing his father. He had the story fresh in his mind. He could almost see the big scary looking man with his giant sword. He liked the idea. It made him feel…..special in a way.

    "It never happened. None of it did. It was just some stupid bard's tale. Some nice little fantasy my father obssesed about. Some made up guy in some made up world. Someone he wanted desperately to be like but knew he couldn't. So it was up to me to live out his fantasy. I was his little game."

    The sound of clay shattering against his wall woke Talgris up with a start. He looked around, hearing the cries and screams coming from outside the room. His parents were not in their bed. The room they shared was not terribly large. His cot was in the far west corner. Theirs was in the far east. There was barely any space to move around really. Talgris had never known what it was to have his own room. Such things were beyond his birthright as a farmer's son.

    "Stop!" He heard his mother cry from outside the room. He heard another crash. Someone grunted and there was a scream. Talgris couldn't make out the voices. He slowly walked up to the door that stood ajar and peered through the crack. He saw his father holding his wood cutter's axe, covered in blood. His right arm and shirt were likewise stained. Calda stood before him, her face was badly bruised. Blood stained her sleeping gown. She was crying, pleading with him.

    "Please stop it!" she cried. "You're going to kill him!"

    "That I am!" Draven spat, his tounge was thick from drinking. "What makes ye think he dserves any differnt!?"

    "Please Jos, get up!" his mother pleaded looking at something out of Talgris's view.

    "Stop talking to him ye damn whore!" Draven screamed and held the axe high over his head and brought it back down with all his streangth. Talgris heard a wet thunk and saw his father's face sprayed with blood. His mother screamed and ran at Draven.

    "Noooo! You murderer! How could you?!" she dropped down next to something at Draven's feet. Her cries were of pure anguish. Her tears ran down her bloated face.

    Talgris risked opening the door slightly to get a view of what it was. He saw a man lying on the floor of their home. His face and clothes drenched in blood. He wasn't moving.

    "You cry over him?" Draven asked, pointing at Calda with the head of the bloodied axe. "You cry over him in front of ME?!" Draven back handed his wife with a force that put her on her back. Talgris cringed at the sound of the blow.

    "How long has tis been happenin?" Draven asked kicking the motionless body of the man on the ground. Calda cried out and wrapped herself protectively around the body.

    There was a moment where Talgris's father did not move. He simply stood there, seemingly refusing to believe what was happening before him. With no notice, Draven swung the axe in a verticle circle and brought it down hard on Calda's back. His mother screamed. Screamed so horribly it made ice run through Talgris's veins. His father struck again. Cursing his wife with every swing. Talgris could hear the maddness creaping into Draven's voice. He was crying, screaming, and using every curse known all at the same time.

    Talgris stood in the doorway of their room in total shock. He was paralized. Tears ran down his cheeks. Mucus ran down his nose and into his open mouth. He was terrified but not a sound escaped him. He was beyond screaming. Then it came.

    Draven threw the axe across the room. It struck a chair and clanged loudly into a corner. "Is this what you want?!" Draven screamed at Calda's twitching silent body. "Is this what you WANT?!" he repeated taking Calda by the shoulders and throwing her down on her back. Talgris saw his mother's battered, bleeding, dangling head strike the ground. Her head rolled, she was looking right at him. There was nothing in her eyes. They were wide and lifeless. His mother was dead. Talgris's knuckles went white as he held on to door frame.

    Draven through the bottom of Calda's night gown over her chest. He fumbled with the rope that held his breeches up all the while repeating the same frase like a mantra. "Is this what you want?! Huh? You filthy bitch! Is this it?!"

    Talgris began to feel his mind creak like a wooden plank holding too great a weight. He couldn't see this. He couldn't see this. His body stood immobile at the doorway. His eyes wide and unblinking. He saw it all, and with every passing minute his mind buckled under the pressure.

    "Oh my God! Oh my God no! I can't watch this! I can't believe this happened! I must be dreaming! This has to be a nightmare!"

    "It's not a dream Talgris….this happened....I'm so sorry."

    "No! It can't be! I don't remember this! It's a lie! It has to be!"

    "You couldn't handle this as a boy. So you put it away where it couldn't hurt you. You forgot everything before this moment. That's why you've never remembered your mother…...that's why you never remembered your real name."

    "I don't want to remember this! I don't want know this!"

    "That's your choice Gatsu."

    "Don't call me that!"

    "…....then you have made your choice."

    "Oh god! Oh god Pira, that's my dad! I can't believe he's doing that! She's dead. He killed her with his own hands. I just…...I......Oh god mom! MOM!"

    "I'm sorry…..I'm so sorry."


  • "Cut it out!" the young boy in tattered rags called out to his friend.

    "Make me!" His friend, another boy dressed only in his trousers called back picking up yet another ball of packed mud and flinging it.

    "Hey!" the young boy shouted out getting ready to make his own mud ball. The boy noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned towards it and his eyes went wide. "Wow." was all that escaped his lips.

    Curious, his friend turned and was equally captivated by the site. A cloud of beautifull multicolored lights was making its way over the forest and coming right for them.

    The two boys began laughing and pointing as the cloud of rainbow colored spheres cleared the gap between them and the forest. As the cloud flew above them, they were close enough to see that the lights were actually forest pixxies. Thousands of them. The boys jumped, stretching as much as they could trying to catch the fey from the air even though they were flying much too high for them to even come close.

    "I want one!" the young boy cried. "I want one!"

    "I'll get you one." His friend smiled confidently. The boy kneeled down and rolled up a nice big mud ball. Standing back up, he pulled back, ready to let fly with all his might. The mud ball never left his hand. The moment he pulled back to throw, hundreds of small shining crystals flew from the swarm. Small, nearly insignificant, sharpened crystals all pierced the boys' flesh at the same time finding their eyes, mouths, jugulars and arteries. Without even so much as a cry the boys' bodies hit the ground.

    The attack was fast and accurate. The pixxies flew straight into the heart of the barbarian settlement and began their onslaught. Small pixxie casters let out a barrage of spells that began to consume every structure in the area. Other pixxies fanned out, firing their deadly little darts in volleys at those who fled from the fires. Others still took a more direct approach. They dove into the crowds, using small charpened crystal like daggers they cut everyone they flew by. The humans were overwhelmed instantly. There were cries as people began to fall holding many small yet life threatening wounds.

    In moments the barbarians began to organize and lit torches, taking swipes at the passing pixxies. Many of the swings found their marks and the pixxies were swatted out of the sky, burning to death as they fell. The town's shamans, after recovering from their initial shock at this unexpected event, began firing spells into the painfully beautiful swarm that had lit up the night sky. The pixxies pressed their attack but the shaman's spells were large and deadly. In moments, hundreds of pixxies had fallen from the sky, burned down by bolts of lightning and and searing balls of flame.

    Having lost the element of surprise, the cloud of fey pulled back, flying straight up into a spiraling column of lights. The pixxies spread out in every direction once they reached the top of the spire, making it impossible for the humans to follow them.

    Pira flew amongst her people and reveled in their victory. She did not mourn those that had fallen in the battle. Those were simple sacrifices that had to be made to assure the survival of their species. The survival of their home and of the way they had chosen to live their lives. This was the beginning of a great battle. A battle Pira knew they would win. They would drive the humans back to wherever it was they came from. They would not be allowed to burn their forest.

    Pira looked down at herself and realized she was completely covered in human blood. She had been one of the fey that had come in for close combat with the humans. She had only barely avoided their torches on a number of occasions but the exhileration of the experience still ran deep in her veins. She had help take many lives this night but she felt no guilt. Only a deep satisfaction that she was doing what needed to be done to protect her glen from the greed and destructive nature of the humans that would one day threaten it.


  • Gatsu was startled when he felt the cold wet hand grab his forearm. He was having a great dream. He was flying high above the farm. He circled the hen house and spooked the cows. He felt free as the cold winds of the Thesk hills hit his face. As he came down low to buzz the cabin, he saw a dark red hand with an impossibly long arm tear out from the ground and grab his arm with terrible force.

    Femto!

    He shook his head, rubbed his eyes and tried to focus. He felt himself being dragged off his bed. He fell from the sky. He landed hard on the wood beams of his room. He landed in the dirt outside his cabin. Someone was dragging him towards his door. The giant blood red arm began pulling him towards the crater it had created. Gatsu struggled to regain conciousness.

    "Get up boy!" He heard the familiar voice shout. His arm was yanked hard, nearly pulling his shoulder from its socket. The demonic red arm that had spawned from the ground disappeared, to be replaced by a much darker entity. Something he feared more than any hell spawned limb. Gatsu peered through the haze to see it was his father who was unceremoniously dragging him through the cabin's common room.

    "Ow dad! You're hurting me!" he complained.

    His father tightened his grip raised him with one arm. At only six years of age, Gatsu wasn't exactly a significant burden. "Stop yer damn whining!" The man spat. "I'm not raising a little girl here!" With that the big man dropped Gatsu who landed on his rear. It stung terribly but he better than to complain. He had smelled the spirits on his father's breath. He knew what was coming. He sat quietly and waited.

    "I don't know why I bother with you!" His father began. "Do you know how much it costs just to feed you boy?! You and your mother? You have no idea do you? What the hell would you know about anything? All you care about is playing with your little friends! You don't know a damn thing about life, not a damn thing! All I do is work this miserable farm! Look at my hands!"

    Gatsu saw the horrible callouses on his father's hands. He could swear he had memorized those hands. Big meaty palms cut and dried from a life of plowing, picking and lifting. Gatsu tried not to cringe.

    "Take a good look at 'em!" His father yelled. "Those are not soilder's hands. They're farmer's hands!" His father's eyes were small and bloodshot. "That's all I'll ever be! A damn farmer! I should have been a warrior. A great bloody warrior with a big bloody sword. Then people would look up to me! Love me! Fear me! They wouldn't be asking me to pay fucking debts…they wouldn't dare!" His father looked down at the six year old boy at his feet. "But not you. You they will fear. I'll make sure of that!"

    That you did old man.

    The first few times Gatsu had heard this speech he had been terrified. His father had come home late, pulled him from his bed and told him how useless his life was. How he had never been able to join an army because he felt obligated to take care of him and mother. How he had never lived out his dreams because of them. How it was their fault he had become a farmer. How Gatsu would have to make it up to him. By doing what he couldn't. By being a soilder, a warrior, better than anyone. Just like the black swordsman was. Just like that.

    I can't believe you're doing this! Why? What's wrong with you?

    With time, Gatsu had grown used to the routine. His father drank hard and screamed loud but he was never violent. He never struck him, even though he feinted the attempt almost every time. Gatsu however could not help but feel tears in his eyes when he saw his father this way. No matter how much it infuriated him to see him cry. All he wanted was for his dad to be happy. Why did he hate them so much?

    "Draven, please," came the soothing voice of his mother from the room. "Leave the boy alone......he doesn't understand."

    Draven! My father's name was Draven!

    "Of course he does! Don't you Gatsu?" Draven looked down at his son with menacing eyes. Gatsu nodded vigourously. No he didn't understand, but what could he do?

    "Stop calling him that! That's not his name!" Gatsu saw his mother step out from the darkness of their chamber. Her black hair was a tangled mess, her light brown eyes were swollen. She had been crying long before she came out.

    Mom! Mom! It's you! Oh, you're so beautiful! How could I have forgotten you?.......Calda! I remember your name!

    "Yes it is!" Draven shouted. "I'm the boy's father and I'll choose whatever damn name I please. His name is Gatsu! Start getting used to it!"

    Calda looked at her son. Her broken heart in her hands. Her son had such a beautiful name....why was Draven so obsessed with this ridiculous story, this name? Why did he have to put their son through this time and time again. Didn't he see the boy was only six? How could he possibly understand?

    "Tal.." Calda began.

    "No!" Draven was quick to cut her off. He took Gatsu's face in his enormous hands and looked at the boy in the eyes. "Your name is Gatsu you hear me? I'm gonna make a man out of you boy! A man people will learn to fear and respect! Not some damn farmer! A warrior! Don't listen to your mother, you know your true name. Say it. Say your name!"

    Talgris! My name is Talgris you maniac!

    "Gatsu" the boy said shaking in his father's grasp. "I'm Gatsu."

    Draven smiled broadly at his son. "That's right. And what are you gonna grow up to be?"

    "A warrior." Talgris replied.

    "The greatest of warriors." Draven went on.

    "The greatest." Talgris repeated.

    "Good." Draven laughed and ran his rough hand through Talgris' hair. "You see?" Draven asked looking up at his wife. "The boy knows his name. Now get on back to bed woman, I'll be with you in a minute."

    Calda silently obeyed her husband and returned to their bed.

    Draven was still smiling when he helped Talgris back up to his feet. "That's my boy...go on back to bed now Gatsu the Blackswordsman."

    Talgris smiled at his father and made his way back into his room. He crawled under his covers and sank his face into his arms. If being Gatsu would make his father happy, then he would be Gatsu. It was just a name. It didn't matter.

    "I am Gatsu." he said to himself in the darkness. Not truly knowing what he was doing. Not understanding what this would do to him later on in his life. "I am Gatsu."

    I am Talgris. Talgris, son of Draven.


  • Pira sat quietly on a moss covered stone near a pond in the sacred glen. She looked down at her own reflection and smiled. The pond's clear waters lapped lazily against the stone. She sat in admiration as the pond reflected the soft glow of her wings. She ran her hand through her wild green hair and looked around. Everywhere she looked she could see the lightning quick passing of the others of her kind. They zipped through the trees leaving a distinct trail of pixxie dust behind them.

    Reconizing her friend Surn, she moved quickly to catch up to her. Surn saw Pira and began to fly faster, giggling as she knew Pira would be quick to catch on. Pira did not disappoint her.

    "Oh no you don't!" Pira called out and began to give chase.

    The two pixxies flew around the trees of the glen at great speeds. Pira chased Surn through the high branches and under the ficus roots. Surn was faster than Pira when flying in a straight line but Pira was much better at manuvering, giving her the upper hand every time Surn entered a rough spot. Pira gained a little ground with every twist and turn.

    Surn stopped cold in her tracks. Pira, focused on catching her quary was taken by surprise. She nearly rammed right into her. Thinking it was a manuever, she spun around quickly and tackled the unmoving pixxie. Seeing the quiet look in Surn's eyes, Pira released her hold on her.

    "What's the matter Surn?" Pira asked.

    Surn was staring out behind Pira. She wouldn't speak, she only pointed. Pira turned around to see a large gathering of pixxies coming together, all hovering around something. Her curiosity peaked. What could have brought so many pixxies to one place?

    Pira fluttered towards and into the crowd. She hadn't gone far before she saw what the big commotion was about. A single pixxie hovered in the center of the quickly growing sphere of fey. Her skin glowed like glossy onyx. Her eyes were deep burning rubies. Her hair was a beautiful clear white. Pira's eyes widened at the site. She seemed to be speaking. Pira came in closer so she could hear. Before she was close enough hear what the black pixxie was saying, Their eyes met.

    Pira could feel herself falling. She felt her body too heavy to sustain. She felt herself enter a state of total peace. She felt herself expand to where she could feel the thoughts of all those around her. She felt the anger that was slowly rising within all of them. She saw into their hearts. She saw what they were all witnessing.

    She saw flames. Flames licking the branches of the glen as they consumed everything. She saw the humans that had begun inhabiting the forest near her home, the humans from the place they called Norwick. She saw them walking though her glen, tearing down the trees, burning them, capturing her people in with large fine nets and putting them into jars like insects. She saw them killing the animals that inhabited here. She saw them building their ugly wooden houses where her precious glen used to be.

    Pira had never known such hatred, such outrage. Those humans were planning on tearing down her home, taking her people prisoner, and killing all opposition. She knew she could not allow this, she could not let the humans have their way. None of them could. They had to come together. They had to stop this before it happened.

    She felt the rage of the gathering rise like the tide in a storm. She felt Surn come close. She too had witnessed the truth of what would befall the glen. She was angry, Pira could feel it. They had to revolt. They would drive the humans away from their home before they became too many. Before they became too strong. Before they came to take away their home, their freedom.

    Pira hovered silently, listening to the onyx pixxie. She noticed as more and more of her kind came and were shown the truth of what the future held in store. She never questioned the visions. Never questioned the origin of the strange fey or how she knew this day would come to pass. It was not something she needed to question. She had been shown the truth. She knew what had to be done. They all did.

    With time, every pixxie in the glen had come together, in hatred and in fear. They were united in purpose. They had to survive. They could not allow this to occur. The cloud of multicolored pixxies began flying towards the cavern enterance that led to the human's town.

    The onyx pixxie smiled. As silently as she had come, the fey disbursed into a thick black fog and disappeared.


  • Gatsu took a long deep breath. Syne was sitting next to him repeating over and over exactly what he needed to do. Gatsu could still feel Pira's heart in his body. He had held on to the sensation for dear life. He felt as her heart began to slow down as the last of her energy was being spent. She lay quietly in his hands trying desperately to stay awake. The ritual would take an entire day to complete. All of them were exhausted. This was their last chance. Gatsu took one last look around him and began the ceremony.

    The clouds hung menacingly over Norwick that day but did not break. The rains thankfully did not come. Gatsu worked diligently. Syne supervised his every move. Pira lay in the grass near the stream. The simple responsiblility of staying awake taking every last bit of streangth she could muster. She was very thankful for Gatsu and what he was trying to do. Not since Gleamer had she felt so close to someone. Here he was, a merchant's son who lived like a savage in the middle of the Nar's Pass, a man who lived only to avenge his father and friends, a man so full of dark thoughts and sadness, waving his hands in the air and mumbling whole strings strange words, just for her.

    The day creeped by with maddening slowness until the sun finally went to rest behind the western forest. The winds were picking up again. The trees danced in the summer wind. Syne walked Gatsu through every step, every word, every gesture. Over the last few days that they had been trying to perfect the ritual, Gatsu had memorized the neccesary words and gestures. The use of each of the materials and the timing needed to perform the long day task. The only thing he was missing was the understanding of what he was doing. The reason for union of each part of the ceremony. He had finally understood it today. They could not afford to fail. Pira would not last much longer.

    Gatsu placed his outstretched hands over Pira's near lifeless body and spoke the final words of the bonding ceremony. A circle of light surrounded them. Both Gatsu and Pira felt the power of the circle course through their bodies. The light became more and more intense until it was the only thing they could perceive. Their conciousness began to meld as their energies mingled and fused. Pira felt Gatsu's conciousness bleed into her own. Gatsu in turn began to lose the deviding line between his persona and that of Pira. They were becoming one.

    As the ritual was compleated, Pira's mind was opened compleatly to Gatsu. He was able to see into the pixxie's past. He saw things she had compleatly forgotten. The memories that Gleamer had taken from her, all came rushing into Gatsu's mind. As Gatsu became aware of these memories, through their newly established empathic link, so did Pira. Her mind was filled with Gatsu's memories. Memories he had put away. Things he had hidden from himself. Things he did not want to remember. As she was now flooded with her own memories through Gatsu's conciousness, so was Gatsu now shown things he had compleatly put aside. Things that made his blood begin to boil.

    Syne's expression was one of joy and gratitude. Gatsu had accomplished the impossible. He had joined with Pira. Her skin was once again glowing with the intensity of life. She stood erect, her head tilted back, her wings fluttering furiously. Then he saw the look in Gatsu's eyes. His eyes were wide with shock. He looked out into the nothing like he had just been stabbed and was about to fall over. Pira also looked terribly shaken. He unblinking gaze seemed to look right through the man in front of her. Now Syne looked at them both with a worried curiosity. Had something gone wrong? Pira seemed to be in good health but perhaps, somehow, the spell had affected their minds.

    "Gatsu?" Syne asked. "Are you alright?"

    Gatsu heard Syne speak to him but he barely registered it. His mind was on fire. The feeling of Pira's ever present conciousness stunned him. Her distress at the revelation of what her memories were and why they were taken from her confused him. The revelation of his own suppressed memories overwhelmed him.

    Gatsu looked at Syne. His eyes welling with tears of anguish. His gaze was hazy. His hands trembled. He looked like he was falling apart at the seams. "No." Syne heard him say painfully. "By the gods Syne no we're not."

    Syne blinked at Gatsu's use of the word we're. He looked over at Pira who seemed to be in the same state of shock as the big barbarian. Thin lines of tears escaped her tiny eyes.

    "What….what happened?" Syne asked, not daring to come any closer to the pair than he already was.

    "The truth." Pira answered looking at him. "The horrible truth."


  • Syne sat in Gatu's room at the Boarshead Inn, holding his throbbing head. His blue white eyes wandered over to where Gatsu sat. The man looked terribly frustrated. He held Pira in careful, loving hands. With every day that passed her life began to seep away from her. She had compleatly stopped going outside. She had no more streangth left. She could barely stay awake most of the time.

    Gatsu was trying hard to learn what he would need to do to bond with the fey. He sat hour after hour trying to make sense of the tombs Syne had placed before him. The sorcerer had hoped to be able to explain the sensations of the ceremony. The state of mind. The empty acceptance of the magic. The power flowing through the body from the infinite. It wasn't enough though. He couldn't make Gatsu understand by simple words and gestures. Hoping that he would somehow be able to comprehend some of the requirements, Syne provided him with the texts used by wizards to study the ceremony.

    Gatsu's head swam. The intriquite words filled his head painfully. The precise science that seemed neccesary to perform the ritual overwhelmed him. He looked at each page with increasing rage. He couldn't understand half of what he read. The vocabulary was beyond his comprehension. Again and again he asked Syne for clarification. The sorcerer was loosing patience. For four straight days Gatsu had done nothing but read old musty books filled with pompous sounding gibberish and tried to make sense of what Syne told him about the spirit, stillness of the mind and union of the body with the infinite. The only thing that kept him from screaming in frustration was consideration for Pira.

    "You need to rest Gatsu." Syne said still holding his head. "You won't be able to summon the magic if you don't get some sleep."

    "I'll worry about that when I learn how to summon the damn magic." Gatsu growled. "What the hell do they mean by 'the coordination of dimensional vectors'? I don't get it….I DON'T GET THIS!" Gatsu took the tomb and threw it clear across the room. It struck the door with a loud thud.

    Syne looked at the mistreated book lying by the door and then back at Gatsu. He was about to make a sharp comment on how expensive that tomb happened to be but bit his tounge when he saw the look in Gatsu's eyes. Instead he simply shook his head. "It's not that hard once you understand it." he said. "Understanding it however can be complicated because you need to look at things from a very different perspective than what you're used to."

    Gatsu looked over at Pira who lay quietly on the desk. Her gaze lingered over him. She seemed so helpless, so afraid. He clenched his teeth tightly. "Are you sure this is the only way?" He asked Syne.

    "We've been through this Gatsu." Syne said walking over to the tomb and picking it up.

    "It's okay Gatsu." Pira said. Her voice weak. "Don't be mad. You're not a wizard." She attempted a smile but it was strained.

    Gatsu closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had lost so many friends since he had come to Narfell. Everyone he knew had either fallen to the hordes of goblins in the Rawlinswood or to the murderous bandits of the Nars Pass. Even he had felt the cold grip of death take him to the Fugue. If only he could remember how he came back. Why he deserved to live while his friends all slept in the cemetery. He did not want to lose Pira. He would do everything in his power to avoid it.

    Syne closed the large tomb and looked back at Gatsu. It was just too much to learn in such a short time. Not even the most scholared wizard or practiced sorcerer could be expected to perform with so little given to them. His gaze went to Pira. However strong her friendship with Gatsu might have been before, it had multiplied ten fold over the last few days. Gatsu had cared for her every need. He was struggling to save her even though he knew deep inside it was nearly pointless to try. They had come to realize each other's mutual love and friendship. They needed each other.

    "Gatsu." Pira whispered.

    "Yes?"Gatsu turned towards her. He felt horrible. If only he was smarter. If only he could make sense of what Syne told him, of what he read in those books. Four days after starting he felt more useless and confused than when he began. He hated this feeling.

    "Could we please go outside?" I'd like to see the sun and the water before....." Pira trailed off. Gatsu felt a lump form in his throught. Not since Gran's death had he felt so furious, miserable, and powerless, all at the same time.

    "Sure." Was all he could say. Gently he picked her up and carried her outside the room. Syne trailed silently behind.

    The Inn was crowded that day. The people of Norwick sat in friendship and comradery. Sharing tales and drinks. Gatsu's eyes never left the small glowing pixxie in his hands. The certainty of her passing lay heavily on his shoulders. He left the Inn and made his way south towards the town's windmill. The place where Pira and he had spent many afternoons, talking about the world that surrounded them and the people who now and again graced their lives. Syne followed. He did not know why. He felt it was better to let Gatsu be, but he felt he needed to be there.

    When they reached the windmill, Gatsu sat down and held Pira in his lap. She stood up, using his thumb for support she looked around. This was one of her favorite spots. It was quiet. The stream ran past them becoming a waterfall just before reaching the south wall. Vino's fire was only a few feet away, as was the enterance to the glen. A place she could not help but feel drawn to. From here she could see the entire town and the Rawlinswood. A small smile appeared on her lips.

    Gatsu couldn't bear to look at her. He tilted his head back and looked up at the sky. The sky was cloudy and dark. It would rain soon. The wind was picking up. Gatsu felt his own heart pump through the throbbing in his temples. It was strong and regular. He wondered how Pira's heart would sound if he could hear it. It was probably as fast as her wings. Small, powerful, and racing.

    In that instant, Gatsu felt it. He felt Pira's heart. He looked down to see the pixxie looking out at the forest, her hands on his thumb, her bare feet on his palm. He felt the vibration of her heart run through his arm and spread out inside him until it was like he had two heartbeats. One slow and steady, one fast and vibrant.

    Pira turned and looked up at him, her eyes were wide in surprise. Gatsu knew then that she was feeling the same thing. They were joined. Everything Syne had told him came rushing back in coherant patterns. It all made sense. Opening up to the infinite, the links between the physical and the ethereal. Gatsu realized he was capable of doing this. He understood it. He could bind himself to her.

    "Syne." He said excitedly. "Go back to the Inn and get the things for the ceremony. I think I can do this."

    Syne looked at him blankly. "What?"

    Gatsu looked up at him with a wide smile on his face. "I can feel her heart! And she can feel mine."

    Syne looked over at Pira who smiled and nodded vigourously despite her weakened state. With that the sorcerer ran as fast as his legs could take him back to the Boarshead Inn.


  • The Pain of Revelation

    OOC: Sometimes memories are things best forgotten. Sometimes the truth is something you would rather not know. Things happen in our childhood that bear too much weight for our young minds to hold. One single experience can change our entire view in life. The mind is sometimes more powerful than our will to control it. More powerful than we would believe possible.

    Gatsu sat quietly with his back against the windmill near the stream just outside of town. He took slow controlled breaths trying hard to calm himself.

    "Are you ready Gatsu?" The elf next to him asked. He scratched his chin absently.

    Gatsu looked down at his open palm. There was Pira, the usually shinning glow of her delicate wings had dimmed and waned. She looked up at him weakly. Her smooth skin had taken on a strange gray hue. She was dying.

    Ever since Gatsu had met the little pixxie his life had gotten a little bit brighter. Pira's childish excitement and limitless energy felt comforting to the man. She loved to fly about the town and speak with every inhabitant she came across. She would come back to tell Gatsu about every encounter. She was always so jovial when she spoke. Everything was a new and exhilerating experience to her. In the past few days though, Pira's energy seemed to be slowly depleating. She seemed perpetually tired. She slept for the great majority of the day and her time in town was becoming shorter and shorter.

    Gatsu was very worried about her and decided to consult a practitioner of the magic arts. An acolyte sorcerer called Syne. Syne had told him that it was very possible that the little pixxie was slowly dying. She had been bonded to a wizard it seemed. When the wizard died, Pira's link to him had been broken but she had not returned to her home as most familiars do when their masters are slain or they are released from service. She had somehow managed to remain with the wizard. The link had not been completely severed.

    "Pira is a very unusual fey." Syne told him. "It seems the wizard Gleamer somehow managed to wipe out any memory she had of who she was or where she came from. He also made the bond between them unusually strong. He must have been very skilled in the art. Even after death, Pira was not returned to her home. The link is so strong it seems, that Pira will eventually follow him in death."

    "Is there anyway to stop it?" Gatsu asked concerned.

    "Only one way." Syne said. "Someone has to perform the bonding ceremony. It has to be done by someone whose connection to Pira is stronger than her link to Gleamer. If it's not done soon she will vanish into nothingness."

    Gatsu was silent. He wished he could help her but he had no knowledge what so ever of the magic art. "Do you know anyone?" Gatsu asked. "Strong enough to break the link."

    Syne only shook his head. "That's not the way it works Gatsu. It's not about how powerful the caster is. It's how strong the link is between the fey and the caster. I could ask Elminster himself to cast this spell but if Pira is not…....emotionally attatched to him, the spell will fail."

    Gatsu's brow wrinkled. "Emotionally attached? I thought these creatures were slaves. What do her feelings have anything to do with it?"

    Syne sighed patiently. "Usually it doesn't. A wizard can simply pick out a creature and perform the bonding ceremony. That creature then becomes the wizard's familiar and is bound to obey the wizard from that point on. However, it seems that Gleamer and Pira had a much stronger bond than usual. How that is possible, I don't know, and Pira does not remember. All she knows is that she genuinely cares for Gleamer and is holding on to him so tightly....she is being dragged into the Fugue with him."

    Gatsu shook his head. "I don't know who could help her. She seems to know a few people.....I guess I could talk to them."

    Syne seemed skeptical. "Is she good friends with these people?"

    Gatsu shrugged. "I suppose. She talks with them frequently and is always excited to talk about them to me." Gatsu's eyes widened for a moment. "You're not suggesting I do it?"

    Syne smiled at the swordsman. "You've known her longer than anyone. She spends more time with you than anyone else. She is not in any way obligated to be around you but she seems to always come back. She likes you. I think you're her best bet."

    Gatsu looked pensive. "But I'm no wizard! I don't know the first thing about casting a bonding spell."

    "You don't have to be a wizard to bond with her." Syne stated. "I'm a sorcerer. I can will things to occur through my inner streangth alone. All it takes is the desire to accomplish it. I can show you how."

    "Don't give me that!" Gatsu exclaimed. "You have magic in your blood. You were born with the gift. I don't have have any magic in me. I can't do it!"

    "But you're wrong Gatsu." Syne said. "Everyone has the power within them. Even you. All you need is to know how to tap into it. I agree, to some magic does come as second nature, but that does not mean you can't summon a bit of power yourself."

    "That's enough Syne." Gatsu stated. "This is Pira's life you're playing with. I don't want you risking her life just so you can prove some kind of point."

    "Hey!" Syne said insulted. "I'm trying to save her! You're the only one that pixxie considers an actual friend! Love it or hate it, you're the only one that can save her right now! To be honest I don't think you'll be able to do it! I've seen more magic in a hair comb than I see in you but that's not the point! The point is Pira is dying and only you can help her! Either you can let me teach you how so you can at least make an attempt to restore her or you can watch her weaken in the hands of every caster you take her to until she fades away!"

    Gatsu stared at Syne in disbelief. The elf stood rigid, his eyes blazing. Gatsu's eyes dropped to the ground. He did not want to see Pira die. She had brought a lot of joy to his dreary life. He was sure however that he could not do this. He saw now though that he didn't have much of a choice. If he was going to save his new friend, he would have to try. His gaze again met Syne's.

    "Alright." Gatsu said. "Alright....show me what I have to do."

    Synes eyes brightened. He was glad Gatsu had decided to attempt the ceremony. They would not have a lot of time. It usually took months for someone to learn how to bond with a familiar. He only had a matter of days before Pira faded into nothingness. He hoped to Mystra Gatsu was a fast learner.


  • Pira flew as fast as her wings would take her into the woods. She could not believe what had just happened. What was happening? What was Gleamer really doing all this time? She heard a crash from behind her. He was closing in.

    Pira had spent the entire day mourning Gleamer's death. She wandered around the cabin aimlessly. Her thoughts random. Sometimes joyfull, sometimes not. Her life with Gleamer had been such a strange thing, filled with a mixture of love and resentment. Now, he had grown cold, lying face down on the floor, his bare feet still wrapped in the covers of his bed. Pira had never truly known him. He had never really bothered to talk to her. He told her what to do and she obeyed. She hated what he made her do, but she cared for him….....didn't she?

    At the moment of his passing, as sad as she felt, a certain weight had been lifted from her tiny shoulders. She felt the power he had over her slowly ebb away. She felt free, but at the same time she felt alone. Gleamer and her had shared a bond together. They were conected by a power she could not explain. With his death that bond had been broken. For the first time she felt truly small. She remembered the things he had made her do. She did not regret them, but she could never dream of doing them again. It was a strange contradiction.

    Her confusion had only begun. That night, as she sat in her crate, she heard a crashing sound coming from the laboratory. Pira made her way slowly and flew in throught the open door. There she saw the mephit. The fiery winged monster flew around her master's work space in desperate circles, inspecting boxes and vials and then throwing them clear across the room. He seemed covered by a constant flame. Everything he touched was singed but not burned. Pira felt a horrible wrongness coming from him. Something...bad.

    "Um...hello?" Pira said. The mephit's head snapped towards her. His eyes were bright orbs of burning hate.

    "You! Where is it?!" He demanded. "Where is the Flower wine?" The creature's voice brought her chills.

    "What are you talking about?" Pira asked. "Why are you in here?"

    "I came for the Flower wine! Where is your master?!" the creature hissed. It leaped on to Gleamer's work table, knocking down empty beakers and leaving scorch marks everywhere.

    "He's....he's dead." Pira said. "And I don't know what you're talking about." Pira was losing her temper. "I want you to leave!"

    "The wizard is dead? How?" the mephit asked from the table. It's wings were at rest on its back. It sat on all fours like a demonic feline.

    "He was sick." Pira responded. "He was trying to get better...but.."

    The mephit laughed. A terrible hissing laugh. "So the Flower Wine finally killed the fool gnome?" A forked tounge licked the monster's lips. "He lasted much longer than I thought he would." The monster said matter of factly. "Where was he getting the flower from?"

    Pira was taken back by the question. What was going on? What was this creature doing here? She remained silent.

    "The flower!" the mephit hissed. "Where was he getting it from?"

    Pira's eyes widened. She didn't want to tell him anything. Not until she knew what was going on.

    "TELL ME!" The mephit opened its wings and dove towards her.

    Pira screamed. Her hand flew for her dagger. The mephit screamed as it felt the sting of the pixxie's well placed blow just under its arm. Bloodlust blinded it. It was no longer interested in interogation. Pira was going to die. She flew, out the window and into the forest. The mephit howling close behind her. Pira dashed blindly through the thick wood. She could hear the leather wings closing in on her. It was dark, she couldn't see where she was going. She only knew she couldn't stop. She had to keep moving.

    She managed to fly into a clearing. A moment later she heard the mephit break out of the thick behind her. She was scared. This thing was fast. Something large whirled by her. She heard a wet thunk behind her and then the mephit screamed. She dared a look behind and saw the mephit sprawled on the ground, a large axe sticking out of the side of its head. She stopped. Someone stepped out into the clearing, walked towards the mephit and pulled the axe out of the creature's skull.

    "Are you alright little one?" She heard the man speak. He was large. Much larger than Gleamer and much younger too. He wore a heavy looking metal shirt and had a large sword strapped to his back and a massive shield strapped tightly to his left arm. He held the bloody axe at his side.

    For a moment Pira was speachless. "Yes...thank you."

    The man grinned. "Don't mention it.....ugly little thing isn't it?" He said staring at the mephit's corpse. "Why was it after you?"

    "I....I don't know." Pira still felt shocked and confused. She didn't know whether to smile or break down crying.

    The man shook his head. "You should go find your master. It's dangerous out here."

    Pira looked up at him. "My master's dead." She said flattly. "He was ambushed by goblins." she lied.

    "Sorry to hear that." The man said. "You still shouldn't be out here by yourself though. I can take you to town if you want. Maybe you can find your master's friends."

    "My master didn't have any friends." Pira said sadly. "He died alone."

    The man in the heavy metal shirt seemed sobered by her comment. "I'm so sorry." After a moment. "Do you have any friends in town?"

    Pira shook her head no. The man looked thoughtful for a moment. He seemed very simple to Pira. His eyes didn't race like Gleamer's eyes did. He wasn't as jittery or nervous either. He seemed calm and composed. A bit of a sad look in his eye.

    "Come with me then. I don't want to leave you out here by yourself." the man smiled.

    "Ok." Pira responded. She looked back the way she had come and at the mephit at the man's feet. She needed to get away from all of this.

    "My name's Gatsu." The man introduced himself at last. "At your service little one."

    "Hi." Pira said smiling shyly. "I'm Pira."

    Gatsu gave her a broad grin. "C'mon, I think you'll like it in town. Lots of people for you to meet there."

    Pira's eyes widened. People....lots of people. This was the first person other than Gleamer Pira had ever seen. The notion of "lots of people" seemed alien to her. She found the idea delightful. Lots of people. Maybe even one of her own kind. Pira smiled brightly for the first time in a very long time.


  • "Useless!" Gleamer threw the three empty vials with what little force his weakened state allowed. They struck the floor intact. He did not have the streangth in him to break glass. He sat on his bed, panting, his mouth was dry, his eyes burned, his skin looked shriveled and parched. With every passing day the potions he made were having less and less of an effect on him. Now, after just having gulped them down, he felt no effects at all.

    Pira hovered in a corner too afraid to speak. The gnome looked enraged and in despair. He cursed, spat out a wad of thin, sickly colored blood, cursed again. He held his head with his skeletal hands…his head throbbing.

    Pira felt awful. No matter how much pollen she brought back from the cavern, Gleamer only got worse. He had worked every day since his sickness began. All in vain. He could not find a cure, and now his time had run out. The potions that kept him physically stable no longer helped him. He was going to die, and there was nothing she could do.

    "Pira!" Gleamer called out. His voice nearly a whisper.

    "Yes sir?" Pira asked shyly approaching.

    "I need.." he swallowed hard. "I need more pollen."

    Pira frowned. Why did he insist on this pollen? It was obviously not helping him. He was adamant about it being the key to his freedom but she had never seen him well. After what seemed like an eternity, Pira finally decided to make a stand.

    "No." she said clearly. "That pollen is not working."

    Gleamer looked at her. His eyes wide and blood shot. His boney jaw dropped in disbelief. Pira noticed this but was determined to speak her mind.

    "You keep making me go out there, you keep asking for more, everytime, more and more. I'm bringing you four pouches full a night now and you've only gotten worse. The pollen won't cure you Gleamer, please try something else!"

    Gleamer's face contorted. "Damn you Pira do as I say!"

    "But it's not working!" Pira shouted. "You're dying!" Her eyes filled with tears. Her lip shook. "Can't you see it's not working?! Can't you!?" Pira froze. Gleamer's will pushed against hers. She had to obey. It was not her place to question. It was not her place to refuse. She felt him envelop her. It was a battle she had never won, not even close, but today, she felt he was too weak to push and with almost no effort, she tore clear of his push.

    Gleamer stared at her. His look was one of total confusion. He had commanded her to do his biding. She was not moving. She hovered in front of him, her jewel like tears running down her pretty cheeks.

    "Please Gleamer." Pira said. "I don't want you to die."

    Gleamer looked around the room, his gaze unfocused. He felt weak and powerless. His body had become frail and brittle. His mind reflected his physical appearance. Now the one thing that he knew for certain in life, the one thing he could control, had just torn itself from his grasp.

    The frail looking gnome lost all reason at that moment. With a weakened feral scream he lunged for Pira. She was caught completely off guard but managed to dart quickly out of his way. Gleamer hit the ground hard. Pira heard the sound of snapping bones and the gnome's howl of pain. His head hit the cabin's floor and he went still.

    "Gleamer?" Pira was still crying. She hovered above her master. She lowered herself in front of him. He was breathing hard. His breaths came long and raspy. Pira saw her reflection in his pale eyes. Those eyes. She knew then she would never forget those eyes. They were not Gleamer's eyes. They were wild, unfocused, mad. He stared off into the nothing. He looked like a starving child, alone and broken. Pira's tears ran unchecked. "Gleamer?"

    Gleamer saw only darkness. His mind had lost the power to register his surroundings. He could not feel himself. He could not see. He could not hear. He was in a void where nothing made sense....nothing but the hunger....the need for the Flower...the need for release. His vision began to clear a moment after the impact. A shifting of colors and shadows. He saw Pira. Saw her hovering only inches from his face. He saw the pain in her eyes at his current state. Saw the genuine affection in her tears. He wanted to say something. Anything. He wanted to beg forgiveness for taking her away from her home, using her to collect the very thing that had made him this way, lying to her, forcing her to kill for him, forcing her to kill him.

    Pira saw Gleamer part his dry lips. For a moment his vision cleared, he looked directly at her. He licked his lips, staining them with blood. "Pi....Piii....raaaaa." came out in a hollow, raspy whisper. Gleamer's eyes began to darken. A last breath taken...and he was gone.

    Pira moaned as her grief overpowered her. He was all she knew. She had tried so hard to help him. All for nothing. Her only friend was dead.


  • Gleamer stood in his laboratory mixing a few things together to make the base for the potion he had been working on. Next to him was the small vial filled with Miridium pollen. His brow was covered in sweat, his hands were beginning to shake slightly. The potions were wearing off. Gleamer grit his teeth and continued mixing until he had achieved the appropriate orange color and consistency. He put the vial on the table and sat down.
    It really was getting worse.

    Gleamer had already spent a small fortune making the potions he needed every morning just to be able to function during the day. Their affects used to last him the entire day and night. After a while he would feel them wear off sometime before dawn. As time progressed, their streangth was depleated half way throught the night. Now, he had not yet laid down and already he could feel the sickness creep up on him.

    He knew he couldn't afford to make more than one batch a day. He had slept horribly for weeks now but he needed his streangth during the day. He needed to be able to work. He was lucky to have found that little pixxie to do his farming for him. It was making him dangerously weak to have to confront the kobolds every day to extract the pollen from the Miridiums. She seemed to achieve the same objective efficiently enough. She had her bad nights at times, but she mostly got the job done. And of course….there were her other uses.

    Gleamer stood up and grabbed the small vial with the pollen. Miridium powder was a bright yellow powder that looked no different from other flower pollens. When mixed with the natural pixxie dust that Pira released from flapping her wings, it began to turn a light green. Pira never knew that she was saturating the pollen with her own dust when she farmed the flowers. She had no idea that it was actually affecting the pollen's very nature, turning it into something very different.

    Gleamer was satisfied with the new green hue of the pollen and dropped the small vial into the base he had mixed. The base reacted immediately to the powder. It began to bubble, it's color began to change. Gleamer put his hand around the vial testing the reaction by the warmth it eminated. He smiled as the orange base slowly became a light yellow and then a thick green.

    Once the mixture was complete, he took the vial and poured the thick liquid into several small ceramic jars and placed a small cork over each one. He left only a little bit left in the vial. The jars he placed carefully in a wooden box, closed it, and locked it.

    He looked over at his hour glass. It was almost time. He had set up the hour glass inside a rotaing ring that would turn the hourglass over as soon as all the sand hit the bottom by way of a counter weight. He had connected the ring to a counter that would keep a record of how many times the ring rotated. It was crude and a bit imprecise but it served his purposes.

    While he waited he took what remained of the concoction and placed it over the fire. After a few moments he removed it and drank it down. He heard the flapping of leathery wings at his window. He turned to see the figure of a demonic looking little creature perched above him. Its eyes burned with hatred, its claws dug deep into the cabinet where he stood. The smell of charred wood filled the room. Without a word Gleamer extended out his hand expectingly. The mephit threw a slightly singed leather bag at him that struck his hand with a light metalic sound. Gleamer opened the bag, inspected its contents and then placed it beside him.

    "It's over there." Gleamer said pointing at the black wooden box containing the small ceramic jars.

    The mephit wasted no time. It flew over to the box, aquired it, and flew swiftly away. Gleamer sat back down in his chair and began to leisurely count the gold the creature had given him. Each coin seemed to gleam perfectly in the firelight. He smiled as the mixture began taking affect in his bloodstream. He felt light headed, dreamy, and content. How could he live without this feeling? How could he be expected to stop? It was so beautiful, so perfect. Gleamer's pupils widened, his gaze went to the fire and locked there, a strangle smile spread on his lips as he felt the world around him shift and change.

    The fire mephit flew back to it's master's home. His master was right. Once someone tasted the Pixxie Flower, they were forever caught in its warm embrace. The gnome would serve his master well, until the day the Flower consumed his mind completely.


  • Gleamer took the mixture of herbs he had made and placed it in front of Pira. She slowly took some of the mashed herbs and rubbed them on her fresh wounds. The herbs stung a little at first but then she felt a nice cool sensation as the wound began to numb. After she had patched up each cut she took the carefully cut strips of clean cloth Gleamer had given her and wrapped them. She looked up at her master with a shy smile on her lips.

    Gleamer glanced back, already taking the little bag of pollen and dumping its contents into a slightly larger glass container. He looked at it through the glass, inspecting it carefully. He looked at Pira and returned her smile. Pira's shy smile turned into a giggle of joy. Gleamer was happy.

    "You did a good job." Gleamer said. You should get some rest. I'll need you to go back tommorow."

    Pira nodded, remembered that with her size he really couldn't see the gesture and responded instead. "Okay Gleamer."

    Pira lay silently in her bed. The gnome had emptied out a large crate for her and had even installed various layers of wood, one over the other, giving her a virtual palace of 5 stories. With time and a lot of nagging, he had finally had cut a few small windows into the crate. The crate sat in Gleamer's room. She stared out her little window. The one that looked out to the cabin's window and out into the forest. She heard the gnome cough violently. The potions were wearing off.

    Pira had been forced to flee from the kobolds yet again after returning for the pollen. The kobolds did not seem to understand she was after the pollen and were guarding other structures of the camp. She had worked vigourously to retrieve the needed powder from the Miridiums. It was not until she tried to get past the sentries on her way out that she was spotted.

    Once again she was in the air. The creatures this time however were ready for her. They fired sling stones at her as she fled. She was a very small, very fast target, but the sheer number of volleys made Pira have to duck and dodge through the tree branches. She didn't even notice she had cut herself on the sharp edges of the branches until she was clear of the kobold's line of sight.

    This was what her life had become. This was her routine. She did not remember anything other than this though. She had nothing to compare it with. She didn't even remember ever knowing one of her own kind. Even though she seemed to have nothing in this world other than Gleamer, she knew there was more to her existence than this.

    She felt her thoughts conflicting. She cared for Gleamer. She didn't really know why…but she wanted to take care of him. She wanted to see him get better. But he wasn't. He was getting worse. Every night he cough. Every morning he would wake up with blood on his lips and on his pillow. Every day he looked worse.

    Pira stared at her small glowing hands. Last night was not the first time she had struck out with violence like that. It seemed second nature to her. She knew exactly when to strike and where to cause the most damage. She struck with a killer's efficiency. She wasn't a killer though, was she? She couldn't remember. For all she knew she was a terrible, mean little pixxie that killed just for fun. She didn't feel she was though.
    Pira turned in the little bed, terribly confused. Sleep did not come easily that night. It never did.

    Pira woke up the next morning and went about her daily chores. She checked Gleamer's traps outside the cabin. His dedication to his work had not given him much time to go out and buy supplies. He had placed an assortment of traps outside the cabin for unsuspecting creatures to give him an easy meal. This was the part of her responsibilities she deplored. She felt completely at home in the forest. She felt the very essence of every living thing out here flow through her.

    It broke her heart to come out here, find the creatures caught by Gleamer's traps, and finish the job. She really was a killer. It came easy for her to attack creatures like kobolds and goblins, but when it came to nature's animals........it was never easy.

    She heard a cry and made her way carefully towards the sound. When she reached the source, she saw a badger, scared and wounded, caught in a snare trap. The creature yelped and bit at the wire of the snare. Blood flowed freely from the wound in its paw. It saw her. She could feel that it was not afraid. It looked at her with pleading eyes, scratching and biting at the snare. Pira flew slowly down towards it.

    The badger showed no signs of violence. However scared it might of been by its predicament, it was not alarmed by her presence. Pira looked deep into his eyes. Those large, black, fearful eyes. She slowly unsheathed her dirk and held it tightly in her grip. The badger did not seem affected by her actions. It continued to call out and bite at the snare. Pira felt her eyes well.

    She put the edge of the dirk on the wire that held him, fully intending to cut it and let the animal loose. Something stirred in her mind. The intense desire to help and protect her master. She felt her mind strain. She felt herself become light headed. She was torn and in pain. She held the dirk to the snare, wanting desperately to cut through it. Gleamer needed this. It had to be done.

    "No!" she cried out, trying to clear her mind. Her will seemed not her own. The desire to serve the gnome was overwhelming. It filled her. It was overbearing.

    Now the badger seemed a bit alarmed. It pulled away from her, hurting itself with the snare. Pira eyes widened. The pain of her resistance becoming too much to bear, she gave in. Lunging forward she inserted the small sliver of steel deep into the badger's eye, using her diminutive size to literally crawl into the soft tissue and slash at the creatures brain.

    With a startled death cry the badger fell, its head striking a rock in a soft thud, its tounge rolling out of its open mouth. The impact threw Pira out of his eye socket, covered in blood. She looked at the dead badger in front of her with horror in her eyes. It lay there, lifeless. Pira felt powerless and scared. She fell to her tiny knees. Her vision becoming a liquid blur as tears flooded from her eyes. He hands came up to her ears as her forehead touched the ground.

    "What am I?" she wept. The terror of her actions becoming a suit of metal armor around her. She had felt her will, her identity, merge with that of her master. A will much more powerful than her own. She realized she was a slave. She had no will of her own. She would soon rise and inform Gleamer of her kill so that he could come out and retrieve it. She had no say in the matter. She knew she would do it. It was her duty to her master. She did not feel she had enough tears to convey her misery.


  • The cavern was foul and dark. The kobolds walked around their tents and campfires, making that horrible noise they make when they speak. Pira had managed to get past the entrance guard easily enough. The small lizard like creatures were much too preocupied with whatever conversation they were participating in to pay much attention to her. She slipped by them quietly and made her way to where she knew the Miridium flowers to be.

    The little creatures seemed to care for the flowers. They were always very healthy and there was always at least two of them somewhere in their vicinity at any time. Even to these diminutive creatures, Pira was little more than a glowing bug. She would need to be careful.

    She slowly made her way to one of the Miridiums. She knew she had to be quick since the Milinium tended to close its petals when it felt any contact made with it. The outer leaves were too thick for her to cut through if the flower closed and she did not want to get caught inside. Taking a deep little breath she dove into one of the flowers and began collecting the pollen. Instantly the flower began to close. Pira moved away with only a portion of what she would need. Normally she could get the pollen she needed after about three tries. Tonight however Gleamer had asked for double the amount. She had to work fast before she was noticed.

    Pira sat on a small rock near the Miridiums, exhausted. She had already gone through six attempts at the flowers. She only needed one more to get the pollen she needed. All the darting to and from however had tired her and she needed some time to catch her breath. It was then that she noticed one of the kobolds walking straight at her. It had spotted her and seemed inclined to make a stain on the ground.

    Pira reacted instinctually. She flew right at the kobold with no thought of her own safety. She unsheathed the small serated dirk she used to cut the pollen from the flowers and with and imperceivably quick movement, put the tiny little thing into the kobold's thick, scaly neck.

    Black/red ichor spurted from the seemingly meaningless cut. It soaked Pira as she pulled the blade out. The kobold's chubby claws went right for the wound as it tried to keep its life from flowing out from the wound. Pira flew, no longer worried about stealth she went for the cavern entrance. The kobold screamed. Others came, they saw her pass.

    The kobold's first reaction was an interesting one. They looked at Pira fly by and began scanning the area. It seemed they were hard pressed to believe she was here alone. Their hesitation gave her enough time to clear the threshold of the cave. He escape however was far from over. Knowing she would return to her master the creatures howled and gave chase.

    Pira flew as fast as her small wings could take her. Her speed came as a great asset and with little time she had lost the creatures. She sat in a high branch panting for air. In horror she remebered the pollen in her bag. Surely enough the thick ichor had soaked through the thin leather pouch and ruined her night's work. Gleamer was going to be furious.

    It was too late for her to go back. She had already agitated the nest. She had no choice but to go home empty handed. With a heavy and fearful heart, Pira made her way back to Gleamer's cabin. Her arrival was not a joyous event. Gleamer became terribly enraged when he realized the pixxie had come back with a ruined bag of pollen. He did not seem at all worried that she was covered from wings to toes in kobold blood.

    "I need that pollen Pira!" He screamed. "Do you want me to die? Is that it? Do you want to see me die from this malady?!"

    "Of course not Gleamer!" Pira replied. Tears flowed down her cheeks despite herself. She was worried for him. She didn't want to see him die. It was her responsibility to get the pollen for him. She knew she had failed him. "I sorry. I don't know how he saw me."

    "Why did you have to go making such a mess of yourself?" Gleamer asked. "You completely ruined this batch. What am I supposed to do with this?" He threw the miniture bag at her, missing completely but making his point.

    "Go back out there and don't come back unless you have a clean batch of pollen! Remember I need twice the amount today!" Gleamer stormed off and left Pira alone to complete her task. She stared at her naked feet. She picked up the pouch from where it had landed and went to wash it. This was her responsibility. She could not fail him again. No matter what the risk was to her.


  • Pira

    OOC: This story is not really about Gatsu but about his new companion Pira. I wanted to add it because to me she is kind of like a second character, though she travels in Gatsu's bag most of the time, she likes to run off and get into all kinds of trouble. She's a lot friendlier and more easy going than Gatsu is and she loves meeting new people. This is her tale.

    The frail gnome lay in his bed, staring up at the packed straw and timber that made up his roof. It was getting worse. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were dry and partched. His skin had gone from a healthy oak brown to a sickly olive green. His dark black hair was a tangled mess that covered his eyes. His once brilliant green eyes were a dull, pale grey. A fit of coughing struck him. His chest burned, his stomach heaved, his muscles tightened. The fit passed. His glazed eyes stared sadly at the blood stained pillow. With a grimmace of pain, he managed to sit up.

    "Pira!" he called out. His voice making a sound like falling stones. "Pira!" he called again.

    "Coming Gleamer!" He heard from the hall. In a moment a small pixxie glided gracefully into his room. At a glance she looked like a glowing green insect. It was with further inspection that one could notice the distinct human characteristics. No bigger than a human hand was the shape of a young woman. Long, flowing green hair. Beautiful, deep blue eyes and a pale green skin tone that complimented a well shaped form that a human woman would need to struggle for years to achieve. Her small pointed ears and almond shaped eyes however betrayed her fey nature. She was a small beauty. A fact that excaped her completely.

    "Bring me my wand." Gleamer said in broken words. He pointed feebly at the table only a few steps away from his bed.

    Pira flew quickly and lifted the increadibly heavy object. To anyone else a wand was a very light and fragile thing no bigger than a thin stick. It was nearly twice Pira's height though and to her, was almost too heavy to carry. She faithfully flew as quickly as she could. Her little muscles straining. She took the wand and lay it carefully in Gleamer's hand.

    Without a word of thanks Gleamer activated the device. A minor object of magical streangth he had designed at the begining of his illness. It was made for the sole purpose of moving things around. With a flick of his bony wrist, Gleamer began re-arranging the scattered mess around his room. Despite his weakened state, Gleamer could not stand to see his home made a pig sty. Even by himself. After a few books and scrolls were put back in their place, he used the wand to hover over a small box containing three viles. He drank each one consecutively.

    Pira watched as the color returned to Gleamer's lips and skin. His eyes brightened. His muscles pulled away from his bones, growing and stretching. The oak brown skin tone replaced the olive green. Gleamer stretched and looked at Pira with a cold smile on his lips. "Are you ready?" He asked.

    Pira frowned. "Of course I'm ready. I always am."

    "Good." Gleamer said and walked outside his room. "I'm going to need for you to bring me twice as much as usual tonight. The illness is getting worse. I need more."

    Pira was not surprised by the request. Gleamer had begun to get desperate. Nothing he did seemed to work on curing his malady. His very life now revolved around it. Every moment given to him by the potions he brewed was used to make more potions and to work on a cure for an affliction that had gotten progressively worse throughout the year.

    "Gleamer please." Pira pleaded. "You must see a healer. They can help you, they can…"

    Gleamer chuckled coldly. "You think I haven't done that already Pira? That was the first thing I did. They said I was cursed......they can't help me."

    Pira frowned and without another word hovered away to her task. For months now Pira had been in charge of bringing Gleamer the Miridium pollen he needed for his cure. It had helped him to not lose focus over the months of strain. It kept his mind sharp so that he could continue his research on a cure for this disease. The only problem was that the only Miridiums in the area grew in a small cavern that was inhabited by a kobold tribe. She had learned the virtues of patience and stealth. It was an ardious task to retrieve the pollen without attracting attention to herself. However tedious, this was not her most hated task. There was one more thing that Gleamer requested she do. Something she had learned to despise, but had become very proficient in doing.

    Pira took her small leather purse and tied it around her waist. It used to be Gleamer's. He had shrunk it for her so she could collect the pollen. She also took her small serated dirk and strapped it to the purse's leather band. Another one of Gleamer's gifts. With this she nimbly flew out of the wizard's home and made her way to the cavern that was just a little under a mile away.

    As she progressed towards the cave, she felt the familiar pull to return to her master. The farther she got from him the more prominent the urge became. She did not know what spell Gleamer had cast on her when they had met but she only knew two things for certain. She could not remember anything before having woken up that day in his laboratory nor could she ever bring herself to go beyond a certain distance without feeling a desperate need to return to him. He did not treat her badly......she guessed.....he could be a little more thankful though for everything she did for him. It seems Gleamer had been searching for someone or something to help him that day. It seems that she was what that someone or something turned out to be.

    Like always, Pira ignored the pull. Knowing that it would not become unbearable unless she went past the one mile perimeter. Within a few minutes she had reached the edge of the forest just outside the mouth of the cave. She saw the first two kobold sentries. Slowly taking out her serated dirk, she willed the natural glow of her wings to fade and the fairie dust that she released to dim. With practiced skill she quietly floated towards the cavern enterance.


  • So much death…...

    Gatsu's vision was blurred by the blood in his eyes. He saw his sword lying only a few feet away. It felt unreachable. He crawled, desperatly reaching for its familiar hilt. He could hear the sound of heavy boots breaking the grass below them. He was closing in. Gatsu coughed, his lungs were on fire, his lips stained with his own blood. Again he reached. Still too far. The blade glowed in the morning sun. It glowed a vibrant red from the blood that dressed it. He caught a reflection on the unstained hilt. He was behind him. His sword, hovering over his back. Gatsu was almost there, he reached....

    "They killed your father?" Shadimar asked as they made their way cautiously into the Nar's Pass.

    "Yes." Gatsu said. His eyes trying to catch any sign that the thieves of the Pass were anywhere in sight.

    "And your teacher....Gran." Shadimar stated. "It is no wonder you hate them so."

    Gatsu was silent for a moment. "It's not only that." He said. "It's more than a vendetta now."

    "How so?" Shadimar asked. The young barbarian was brash and a little foolhardy but he seemed to have good intentions. This day however, he had wandered a bit farther into the Pass than he felt confortable with. They were very deep in enemy territory. Gatsu was usually not this reckless. He must be getting overconfident.

    "I've seen them kill many others since I came here to Norwick." Gatsu replied. "They kill without question or remorse. They take few prisoners and those they do take usually do not live long." Gatsu paused. "What happened to me has happened to many others. I want to stop them from leaving any more orphans to bury their parents in the middle of the Pass. There is too much death in this realm."

    "So you will stop them from killing by killing them?" Shadimar asked. "I thought you knew better."

    Gatsu looked back at Shadimar. "Do you have a better suggestion?"

    "Diplomacy."

    "Bah!" Gatsu spat. "I'm sure they've tried that! Besides, they are not a part of Narfell, they are invading it. This is how you deal with invaders." Gatsu raised his sword to exclamate his point. Little did he know that that little gesture was what had led to him being sprawled on the ground bleeding from several fatal wounds. They made their way carefully until they reached the intersection that led to the town of Jiyyd.

    A bandit had seen the light reflected off of Gatsu's sword when he raised it in the air, unknowingly pinpointing their position. Within a matter of minutes, an ambush was set at the intersection. Gatsu and Shadimar walked right into it.

    The attack was swift and well timed. Four of the bandit's rouges darted from out of their cover, quickly surrounding the two unexpecting hunters. Steel struck steel in a fury as Gatsu and Shadimar went back to back, barely holding off the initial attack. Behind the rouges came another four soilders, their herald, Gatsu saw was one of their faithfuls, fully armed and armored.

    Two against nine. In their travels Gatsu and Shadimar had faced worse but since that night in Peltarch, a faithful had never been involved. Fear crept into Gatsu's heart as he remembered how well trained and skilled these men were. He realized too late the folly of his decision to come out this far into their lands. There was no time for thought though. They had agitated a wasp's nest. It was time to kill or be killed.

    Shadimar lunged and dodged. His sword cutting though the abdomen of his first attacker. The other rouge took the opening and plunged her dagger into his back below the shoulder blade. Shadimar howled in pain, turned, and sank his blade into the woman's neck, leaving it hanging by a few tendons.

    Gatsu knew they needed to cut down the first wave before the faithful arrived. His heart pumped wildly. The rouges swung with their sharpened daggers, stiking his chainmail. Gatsu swung his sword in a wide arc, cleaving through one woman straight through her torso and embedding the sword in the chest of the other. They both fell with hardly a sound. The soilders behind him struck out wildly. One blow glanced Gatsu's armor. The other dug deep into his shoulder drawing blood. Gatsu grunted and swung. The first bandit ducked under the blow. The other was not as fortunate and found himself missing his left arm. The man screamed and fell to the ground holding the wound. The first bandit did not relent. He swung again, this time puncturing Gatsu's left leg.

    Gatsu's vision began to blur as small yellow sparks appeared before him. Biting back the pain he came down hard cutting into the bandit's chest. The blade came out the man's back as he screamed in agony, and then, went limp, sliding heavily off the large sword. Gatsu turned to see Shadimar holding off one last attacker, his armor stained in blood. The faithful was amongst them.

    Gatsu roared and charged. His powerful swing was easily deflected by the bandit's shield. The faithful plunged his sword into Gatsu's side. Gatsu felt conciousness begin to slip from him. With a desperate lunge, Gatsu struck straight forward. The faithful went to block the blow but was slow by only a quarter second. Gatsu's blade found the man's stomach. The faithful shouted and brought his sword across Gatu's head. Luckily, the pain had shocked the man enough so his aim was a bit off and he managed to hit Gatsu with the side of the blade instead of the edge.

    The pain however was excrusiating. Gatsu fell to the ground, his world going black. The cry of a hawk brought him back from the edge. The cry was not one of victory however. The creature Gatsu knew as Iria had let out its final death cry. Shadimar was in trouble. He heard steel meet steel only a few feet behind him. He looked around frantically for his weapon. He found it lying only a few feet away. His body had gained the weight of a mountain. With what little power he could muster he began to crawl towards Caska. A terrible cry of pain echoed through the Pass. One of them had fallen. In his semi-concious state Gatsu could not differenciate who it had been. Knowing he could not take the chance, Gatsu kept crawling for his weapon. The victor of the battle made his way slowly towards him.

    Gatsu felt desperation in his veins. The words of Femto echoed in his mind. There were no gods other than the ones we make for ourselves. It is our will that manifests them and the power they weild over us. We are the slaves of our own fates because that is the choice we make. So what was Gatsu's fate? He did not believe in these gods. He did however believe in Femto, he believed in a demon who promised nothing but despair and misery. Gatsu's blood went cold. Was the path had chosen in life going to be the undoing of his existence after death? Had he really chosen this path himself? Hadn't it been his father's wish that he live with the name of a man Gatsu never really knew ever existed? Wasn't this all his fathers doing? Wasn't it his fault for leaving him!?

    Gatsu was now only inches from his sword. The image of the man behind him became clear on the shining metal of his sword. The bandit's blade came down swiftly, severing Gatsu's spine. As he had seen in so many others, the light behind his eyes slowly dimmed and died. Gatsu's head struck the ground, his outstretched hand landing clumsily on Caska's hilt.

    Maybe Shadimar was right. His life seemed an obvious hypocricy at this point. What other fate could he possibly have expected? It was as they say. Live by the sword...............

    OOC: Well, I thought this a good place to close on Chapter 2 of Gatsu's story. Death of course should always be considered a vital turning point in any character's life. Not that any of us has the luxury of a second chance at life. I can only hope that if we did, we would not squander it away. It saddens me to know how little we appreciate the one that is given to us. More to come soon. Thanx again for taking the time.


  • The day was cold and damp. The ground held a certain stench that seemed signature to this town. Gatsu sat outside the Boarshead, wanting to be in the sun but finding nothing but a grey, cloud covered sky. Gatsu drank deeply. He watched as the inhabitants of Norwick went on about their buisness. Fargo was having a good day today it seemed. Buying and selling his wares, he seemed perfectly happy. Gatsu's mood however, was as grey as the sky.

    He hardly remembered how long he had been in this town. Time seemed to flow with such a steady regularity that things seemed to jumble and mix with each other like a pattern of swirling insects. He was lost in time now, which was for the better. He didn't want to know anymore. Everything seemed to be losing its luster. He realized now how the shedding of so much blood had effected him. He had become as cold as the rain. Taking the life of others no longer bothered him. He had already forgotten the faces of the men and women who he had left to feed the predators of Nar's Pass. He no longer noticed the anguish and fear in their faces. He no longer bothered to watch the light fade out of their eyes. They were an obstacle, no more.

    Gatsu rested his head against the wall of the Boarshead and looked up at the shifting stormclouds as they prepared their daily dose of showers. What was he becoming? What was he doing? The rage he felt for the bandits was still present and as strong as ever…..but his pain for his father's loss....the loss of his mentor.....they were gone. He had released them. He had moved on. But then why was he angry? Why did he revenge so?

    Gatsu's mind began to wander......things were not going well as of late. The girl Cyna. He had led her and her friend Stella through the Rawlinswood. They were both a little unexperienced in patroling the woods but they showed great potential. Cyna seemed hungry for both the blood of the goblins and......for companionship. It seems she had found a mark for the later. Dando Chedwa.

    Gatsu had always found the bard to be carefree and giving. He seemed very young at heart. Something had happened with Cyna though. It seemed a declaration of love made by two people too young to understand what they were doing. A declaration gone horribly wrong. Now it seemed that there is a chance that Cyna had taken her own life and Dando did not yet know......or knew, but did not dare admit it to himself. The way things were going, Dando might decide to follow in the foolish girl's footsteps.

    "So much death." Gatsu muttered to himself. "This place must be cursed."

    He looked around. Small details that seemed to go unnoticed. Blood stains on the armors of those who would not bother removing them while in town. The massive amounts of weapons and armors in Fargo's inventory. The cold uncaring stares of the militia as they patrolled the streets. It was a little suspicious to him how they made their rounds around that well in the middle of town. Gatsu had learned that there was some very powerful magic in the water. So strong that it effected any kind of casting performed in town. Atol seems to want this town very badly. That well..........

    Then there were the elves. So many elves. Gatsu had been to their camp in the Rawlinswood. They seemed very cold and dismissive. A gesture Gatsu found very hypocritical seeing that most of their population had decided to inhabit Norwick. Gatsu let out a tired sigh. He hated when he let his thoughts get the best of him. A shadow covered his face. Gatsu looked up to find Shadimar looking at him with a small smirk on his face. Iria sat on his shoulder, seemingly alo scrutinizing him.

    "I hope you're done brooding." Shadimar said. "I need to feed Iria."

    Gatsu had found it strange how the druid seemed to connect his own bloodlust with feeding his pet hawk human flesh. It made his skin crawl at times. These druids seemed so detatched from life, their heart beating at its own rythm. They follow their own rules, lived their own lives, outside of the oppresion of society. A heriachal oppression that most people found confort in. Gatsu felt he could understand their way of thinking. Having been bred mostly in the wild, even the chaotic atmosphere of this town was not enough. The walls seemed to close in on him. He needed freedom from it. He needed to be away from its confinement.

    "Yes." Gatsu said rising. "I'm done."

    "Good." Shadimar responed. Without another word the druid began walking towards the Northgate. Gatsu put his thoughts at rest and reveled in the release he knew he could only find in the heart of a murderous rage. He felt like an animal. A savage yet caged animal. What would become of him in this town of war and bloodshed,sadness and turmoil, death and rebirth?


  • The bandits were used to groups traveling through their lands from Norwick to Peltarch and back again. It was by sheer numbers that they managed to take these groups and loot their fallen corpses. Today however, they met a resistance that was far beyond them. Together they stood, Fade and Aaramil, stoic sentries firing volley after volley into the party of murderous theives that tried desperately to reach them. Gatsu stood his ground, launching his axes at any who might get past the death dealing druids. The bandits seemed undisturbed by the fallen bodies of their comrades. They ran over them, determined to kill this group of intruders. Shadimar stood by Gatsu, silently striking out at them with his bow.

    The half-orc Vrugar was quick to attack. Charging forward with the power of a minoutar he cut through their ranks. The night's darkness was against them. The bandits knew these lands well and were able to sneak up silently behind the group's line of defense. As Fade and Aaramil concentrated their fire towards those that came from the north, and Vrugar sliced down those that came from the west, Gatsu and Shadimar turned and began making short work of the attackers coming from the south.

    Gatsu was astounded at how many of the bandits were attacking. It seemed they were up against a large raiding party. As Gatsu's blade found the heart of a female and her death scream filled his ears, Another figure stepped from out of the shadows. This one seemed distinctively different from the rest. He wore chainmail instead of leather and carried a large sturdy shield. He seemed confident in his ability as he walked up to Gatsu, hatred in his eye. Gatsu screamed and lunged. The bandit blocked him easily and brought his own sword down, smashing hard into Gatsu's chain, cutting through metal into Gatsu's flesh. With a groan Gatus swung again, his sword bouncing off the man's shield. The bandit pushed forward, aiming for Gatsu's head. Gatsu caught the sword with his own. They stood locked for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, their teeth grinding, their brows covered in sweat.

    Shadimar brought his scimitar across the bandit's arm finding a weak spot in the armor and cutting flesh. The bandit pulled back and swung, slashing Shadimar's bicep. Gatsu's blade bounced off his shield once more. This man was skilled, Gatsu's eyes widened as he realized he was fighting the leader of the raiding party. The man barked out orders as they faught. Gatsu's face became a feral mask of hatred. Calling every ounce of streangth in his body he planted his feet and swung with a primal scream. His strike was clumsy but the power behind it was significant. The bandit put up his shield to deflect the blow. Seeing his opening, Shadimar slashed the man behind his knee. The pain of the blow set the man off balance for only an instant, but in that instant the shield dropped just enough for Gatsu's sword to find the man's shoulder, ribs, heart, and spinal column.

    The bandit fell to the ground with a wet thud. Gatsu's breath came heavily. The wound in his chest ached terribly. He looked down and saw his chain shirt hanging by only a few links now. It had really gone through hell these last few months. It was time for a change.

    A bandit faithful seemed to be the official title for the man he and Shadimar had taken down. It was Gatsu's first encounter with a higher ranking officer in this army of rebels. Gatsu grinned despite his injuries. Seeing his friend wounded, Shadimar quickly began calling in the power of the forest to allow him to heal Gatsu.

    Gatsu was overwhelmed by the sheer size of Peltarch. As a merchant's son he had seen many such cities throughout the realms but never from the inside. His caravan usually found a place outside the city walls to sell their wares and being that such cities were such a dangerous place for a young boy to be wandering about, his father never let him explore. His father…......his nameless father.

    The city streets seemed deserted. Gatsu realized that this small group he traveled with had come at a very late hour. The guards at the gate seemed to know Vrugar and they were not given too much trouble when they tried to enter the city gates. Once inside, Fade requested that any buisness be done by noon of the next day so that they could all return through the Pass in the safety of their own numbers. Gatsu and Shadimar agreed and decided to find an Inn to spend the night. Fade had recomended the Whorehouse........a practical name it seemed. A name like that would attract a lot of clientel in a big city like this. Gatsu couldn't help but laugh.

    Shadimar seemed reluctant and unconfortable having to spend the night within the city but seeing how there was no place for him to hide from the bandits outside, he went directly to his room and tried to hurry things along by going right to sleep.

    Gatsu ordered what he believed to be a ridiculously overpriced ale and sat in a corner. This place seemed much larger than the Boarshead. Larger, shadier, and no where near as friendly as the common room of his home. The people spoke in hushed tones. Their eyes darted about nervously. Gatsu found himself to be very unconfortable in this place. Taking the ale to his lips he drank it down in one gulp and went up to his room.

    Despite his feeling of being compleatly out of place, Gatsu enjoyed his stay at Peltarch. Shadimar and he were able to find the general market area where after a long session of open mouthed gawking, Shadimar was able to convince Gatsu to hurry up and make whatever purchases he needed before they were left behind. With a heavy heart Gatsu spoke to the Blacksmith and managed to get a less than decent price for his chain shirt. Gatsu was a merchant's son, but a horrible merchant himself. It had plagued him his whole life how people never really seemed to warm up to him. They would greet him and indulge in small talk but in a moment's notice he was quickly forgotten. He hated the idea of taking up the family buisness because of this. It seemed fate however made sure he lost this option.

    His spirits were soon lifted though once he purchased a brand new chainmail armor and a shiny new tower shield. He had seen many in Norwick carry around such things. He never thought he would actually own one. With a smile on his face Gatsu made his way back to the south gate with Shadimar to meet back up with Fade, Vrugar, and Aaramil.


  • The time had come. The time had finally come. Gatsu stood at the north gate of Norwick, wearing his faithful chain shirt and holding on to Caska with a death grip. Shadimar, the druid of the Rawlinswood padded silently up to him, a concerned look on his face.

    "You ready?" the elf asked. The hungry call of a hawk could be heard from above, a winged shadow lazily circled their feet.

    Gatsu had waited very long for this. For the day he would be able to gain the confidence to go through these gates and face the bandits of the Nars Pass. A lot of time had passed since the day Gatsu had walked into this town through this very gate, carrying the body of his friend Gran and trying not to bleed to death from a gaping wound at his side. Since that day he had passed by this gate several times, trying to summon up the nerve to take up arms and go outside. Today was that day. He already knew he could trust the druid Shadimar, having traveled with him many times before. He only hoped he could keep his cool out there. The rage that boiled inside him seemed boundless.

    "I'm ready." Gatsu said taking a deep breath. With that, they stepped outside of Norwick towards the Nar's pass.

    They had not gone far before they heard the call of the hawk above them. "Iria has spotted something." Shadimar said. "We must be wary."

    Gatsu nodded, looking around he found a high perch they could use for a better perspective of the pass. Gatsu's eyes narrowed as he spotted a small band walking leisurely towards the city proper. There were four of them. Two men and two women, all dressed in the bandit's blue and orange. Gatsu looked at Shadimar and ran his thumb across his neck from one ear to the other as he sheathed Caska and placed a pile of throwing axes before him. Shadimar nodded, pulled a single arrow from his quiver, drew back and let fly. The arrow sank deep in one of the woman's legs. She let out a cry of pain and fell as her legs lost the streanght to support her. The others turned and spotted their assailants on the hillside just above them. With shouts of hatred and promised revenge they came. Shadimar continued to fire. His arrows sinking in their thick leather armors but not finding the soft flesh beneath.

    Gatsu waited. His time in the Rawlinswood had taught him much about patience. Once they were within his range, he picked up an axe and threw it with all his might. The axe flew, making the wind howl behind it. One of the men flew back from the impact. The axe sticking out of his chest, covered in blood. The other woman screamed as one of Shadimar's arrows sunk into her right breast. The last remaining bandit stopped cold. He looked about at his fallen companions and then back up at the two men on the hill. With obvious disgust, the bandit dropped his sword and shield, and raised his hands to show they were empty. Again the hawk cried.

    Shadimar looked at Gatsu. No words needed to be spoken. They had been spotted by another band, there were more coming and they were very close. Gatsu took one look at the bandit at the bottom of the hill and with one swift movement threw an axe deep into his skull.

    The theives of the Nars Pass closed in quickly. These people did not take kindly to intruders in their lands. Eight well armed and armored bandits howled as they closed the gap. Gatsu stood with Caska ready, Shadimar unsheated his scimitar. Gatsu remembered this scene all too well. He took a moment to glance over at Shadimar who stood quiet, composed, and ready. A shadow streaked past them as the hawk dove for one of the bandits, claws extended. The attack caught the man by surprise. He screamed as the bird's talons tore into his face, seeking the soft globes of his eyes.

    With a scream of uncontained fury Gatsu charged with Shadimar closely behind him. With one swift stroke he came down hard on the first bandit who's blood sprayed as he let out a piercing death cry. Two bandits came in from each side. Gatsu had gotten quicker since the last time he had found himself in this predicament. He side stepped, centering his weight, he spun and cleaved the second man's head off as he moved to strike.

    Shadimar's expression of calm never changed. He took a quick sidestep as he met his first attacker and cut him under the armpit. The man fell holding the fatal wound as his blood literally gushed out of him. The second bandit's attack bounced off the thick scales of Shadimar's armor and with deadly speed, the druid brought up his sword and sliced across the man's jugular.

    Gatsu's third attacker charged forward trying to impale the big man on his sword. The blade slid across Gatsu's chain shirt, giving the barbarian enough time to redirect his blow. With a quick turn, Gatsu put all his weight on his right leg and sliced with a downward arc that drove the blade halfway through the man's chest.

    The last two bandits stood in horror. In moments their numbers had been decimated. Like the bandit before them they lowered their weapons and raised their empty hands.

    "Alright now." One of the bandits spoke. "We surrender. I'd rather go to jail then to be killed out here today. We won't give you any trouble."

    Gatsu looked at Shadimar who shrugged uncaringly and began to clean his blade. Iria came to rest on his shoulder, an eye dangling gruesomly from its beack. Gatsu looked back at his prisoners who stood motionless, fear evident in their eyes. All they wanted was to stay alive. It was their right was it not? It was as much their right as it was his father's and his friend's.

    "I know you won't." Gatsu said and swung. The blade cut straight through two unsuspecting necks, spraying the Nar's Pass with the color of thick red crimson.

    The sun was slowly disapearing behing the western horizon as Shadimar and Gatsu walked back through the gates at Norwick. After a quick inspection from the militia who regarded their blood soaked bodies with mild suspicion, they were allowed back into town. Gatsu had hoped for rain that day. Hoped the rain would wash away what he knew he had become. But no rain came.

    That night, Gatsu stared intently into his ale. Shadimar had returned to the forest with his hawk, never truly confortable within the walls of Norwick. Gatsu's mind saw the light in the bandit's eyes fade and die. He had taken many lives this day. It was different than hunting goblins. Goblins were vile, retched little parasites. They were savage and ruthless and murderous by nature. Those that found their resting place at the end of Gatsu's blade this day however were all human. His own kind. He could make up any excuse to justify it but when it came down to it, he was no better than they were. He was a savage, a thief, and a murderer.

    Gatsu put his head back and stared at the roof of the Boarshead. This was the path he had chosen for himself since the day the bandits of Nar's Pass took his father from him. He had vowed revenge and he would have it. He would not stop until they were all dead. Even if he had to pay for it with his soul.

    What did it really matter though. There were no gods. Only ideas manifested by the fearful masses. He did not believe in them. They could not affect him…...or could they? What if the beliefs of the people were so strong that his own mind would have no choice but to except them as facts. He would be doomed to suffer the penance of another's beliefs.

    Gatsu laughed at himself. He would cross that bridge when he got to it. For now, he would live to kill those who had wronged him, and he would tell himself that what he is doing is for the good of Norwick. There was no wrong in that right? Was that not what everyone here did? Commit justifiable murder. It was not a matter of choice....it was a matter of survival....plain and simple. For a moment, Gatsu swore he could hear the demon king Femto. He swore he could hear him laugh.


  • Gatsu left the cemetary, chased away by the rains he had gotten so used to here in Norwick. He wrapped his cloak tightly around him and and put the cowl over his head. He walked in darkness. When he reached the Boarshead he found it crowded as usual. His seat however was undisturbed. He sat and ordered an ale. Misty smiled as she served him but didn't speak a word, needing to run off because of the amount of customers shouting for service.

    Gatsu stared at the occupants of the inn with a silent grin on his face. He had already managed to meet quite a few of them. He had met Rith Phoenixfeather at the Friar's home. She was in training to become an apprentice along with a girl called Careena. Never did catch her last name. It seemed the man had quite a few lovely girls under his wing. Must be that big teddy bear charm. Rith was very friendly and helpful. She saved Gatsu from a week of bedrest and a few rolls of gause after a bad run in with the vermin of the south wood. It seems she was attemting to build a temple for the flock of her god. Despite Gatsu's less than fanatical belief in such things, he wanted to help this woman and so donated an embarrasingly small amount. It was all he could manage at the time. Perhaps if he sees her again he could donate a bit more.

    Shortly after he had met Dando who spent his days within the walls of the Boarshead, weaving tales and playing fine music for all those that would listen. He had a care free spirit and was glad to help anyone in need. Gatsu liked him right away and was more than glad to have the man drink on his expense. It was nice to have someone to share a drink with for a change. Of course, it seems that ever since he met Cyna, he's been wanting to cut back on ale. Funny how easily a woman can affect a man in the decisions he makes in life.

    Gatsu had also managed to meet an interesting group of hunters on his patrols out in the woods. Gatsu could not help but laugh at the memory. "Lo'en Jaspenellar, Ranger un-extrordinare" Now there was a name that was difficult to forget. The woman was quiet, reserved, and deadly with the bow. They exchanged a few words before that fool Kalmir that Gatsu was traveling with decided to go on a suicidal bend and nearly got him killed and Gatsu, who tried but ultimately failed to pull him out, was left in an unconcious heap on the floor. Luckily Lo'en stayed near him and guarded him while help arrived. Such favors are not soon forgotten.

    Another interesting face was the small one Drago Dasher. His skill was if anything unexpected, but his help was invaluable. Vellan had managed to find himself in a bit of a tight bind. A large group of bashers and soilders sprung an ambush that meant certain doom. They howled and ran towards Vellan with the savagery and bloodlust known to run in their kind. And in comes Drago Dasher. "Here comes halfling death!" the little one cried as he entered the fray swords leading. The poor bastard goblins never knew what hit them. Despite Gatsu's size and formidable streangth, he would have been hard pressed to run into a mob of bashers and soilders. This halfling though ran into foes nearly his own size with the confidence of a veteran hunter and rid the world of vermin once and for all.

    It was surprising to him that the most prominent places to find and meet the most interesting people Norwick had to offer, were at the Friar's home, a meeting ground of the dead and wounded with those who wished to help them, and in the woods themselves. When people sat around the inn, they usually enjoyed the company of those they had already previously met. They shared drinks and tales of their exploits. Those that loitered around the campfire near the southern gates were usually ready to leave or coming back from a hard day of patroling.

    Gatsu took a long drag at his ale. Already at the Friar's he had managed to become aquainted with Gidush, the half-orc hunter who he found to a good spirited hunter, ready to help those in need and fight backt the horde of the south, and Jenna Joydancer. A girl that seemed to have aquired the love of the entire town. Gatsu owed a great debt to these two. For with compleate selflessness they offered to pool money together to try to revive Vellan the day he fell in the goblin wood. After seeing our willingness to pay, the Friar attempted the miracle of resurrection. Vellan's spirit however, was unwilling to once again merge with his body. Seeing that there was nothing to be done, the Friar gave a small prayer and appologized. It was simply his time to move on. Vellan had travelled with Gatsu for a long time. He would be sorely missed.

    It was also here that Gatsu had managed to exchange a few words with people such as the Paladin knight Kanen Hightower and the traveling bard Adam Broley amongst others. Gatsu was almost tempted to aquire a spot near the fireplace at the old Friar's and watch as the people came and went from there…..almost tempted but not quite. He chuckled slightly as he saw Dando, drunkedly walking about, trying to make his stories sound coherant. This was a good place to be.