Tyal



  • Forum: Tyal_Wood
    Player: TyalWood
    Character: Tyal

    The sentinels of my crib were the oaks, firs and elms of Tangled Trees in the heart of Cormanthyr forest. From an early age, I had an appetite for stories and song – especially of times long gone, of hidden places and lands beyond Cormanthyr. Whenever a merchant or bard or other traveler would pass through Tangled Trees, I would follow him or her around and stay up late in common rooms – fetching fresh berries or water or other small tasks so as I would be able to listen and not sent off to bed.

    When new stories and song were not to be found, I liked spending my youth gleaning the stories of the trees, brooks, winds, and all the creatures of the wood. Lacking a squirrel’s claws, I could not climb trees exactly as the squirrel, but many techniques of the squirrel’s climbing did transfer, with some adjustment, to my body. I learned to run like the deer: a fast dash, a leap over a log, a quick turn and sudden stillness, the whole while being keenly aware of my surroundings.

    Every morning, I walked the same path to fetch fresh herbs and mushrooms. One morning, I noticed a deer that walked along with me on the opposite side of the brook. He first appeared just beyond the elf tree houses and matched my pace on through near the farthest point of my gathering where I turned away from the brook. I saw the same deer the next morning. After that, I was very careful to always leave home when the sun had the same angle. Each day, the deer was there. This continued until my younger cousin was given the chore of morning gathering and I moved to other tasks.

    One day, while jumping from a tree branch, I noticed an elder elf, watching me from a seat among some tree roots. He beckoned and when I drew near, he suggested some adjustments to balance. His words proved effective and I saw him other days in the wood. I learned his name as Elidyr of Semberholme. He taught me to swim in the mighty rapids of River Duathamper like the Cormanthor river otter. He also taught me bear stance, the panther’s pounce, wolf’s punch and other martial arts to promote mental, physical, and spiritual development.

    So, when the day came for the sage to resume his travels, I was granted the consul’s leave to follow and apprentice. My mentor was of the monastic Order of the Song of Life and as such, the gathering, understanding, preserving and decimating of knowledge was his primary calling.

    Our first quest was to discover a lost monastery on a minor peek of Mount Abarclah in the Giantspire Mountains. The trip was wonderful and peppered with many small adventures. However, on the trail ascending Mount Abarclah we encountered a great wrongness: a stone fortress and its amassing skeletal army. Maintaining the strictest discipline of stealth, we observed the comings and goings at this fortress before turning from our quest to report this news.

    I was seated on a log, beside my mentor, when he suddenly slammed his palm into my upper chest. I went limp and slid off the back side of the log where I lay unable to move. I could see and hear, but little else. Between the ground and an arch in the log, I saw my mentor’s feet running toward a thicket where stood a richly robed skeleton baring a scepter from which flew a ball of fire. My mentor was far enough for me to see his legs and half his torso when he was engulfed in flame. When the flame cleared, Elidyr of Semberholme seemed completely untouched by its furry and was only steps from what I now knew to be a lich. Then, what I saw was proof that I have never before seen my mentor truly fight: his fists and feet moved like lightning and struck with a clap of thunder. Behind the crackling of magical shields, the lich withstood and unleashed an elemental force that rent the very ground asunder. Again, I lost sight of my mentor in the wild energies. When I caught sight of him again, his tunic and hair were burned away and much of his skin was blackened, yet the onslaught of his fists continued. Then was conjured a sword of blazing energy that struck again and again at my mentor, yet he was quick. Many other energies flashed until the thing’s shields were all shattered. To my ears came a scream that I felt might rip my soul out of my body. Then, the lich lay still and broken on the ground and my mentor was holding his stomach and limping back toward me. Still, I had no command over my mussels. It was clear my mentor needed healing, yet I could not move. Soon, I could see only his lower body through the crack and then only his feet. He lowered himself on the log, pressing his wound against it, then reached down and rested his hand on mine. He then spoke his last words: “Reaching perfect self is to see that the self is not but an illusion. The world is real, but the divisions into you, me, air, water, tree and flower are not”. Then he passed with happiness in his eyes and a smile on his face.

    Finally, when I had my mussels returned to me, all I could use them for was to weep.

    After showing my former mentor what respect I could in final rituals, I turned south, left the Giantspire Mountains and with small adventures arrived in the welcoming town of Norwick.


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