3. The Chieftain

The Chieftain

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    **_Swift's Games

    Negotiations had failed. All arguments to prove their innocent in the matter had been tossed aside as petty and childish lies. The leaders of the city of Ingbal’s Arm on the northern end of the peninsula of Aglarond had spat in Rick’s face. Rick, the Chieftain of the honorable, respected Swift Clan had tried and tried again to show the city his brother-warriors were innocent and had not raided passing caravans. But, his attempts were thwarted by ignorance. False accusations led to insults, which quickly became threats. Rick now led an army six hundred strong that was marching towards Ingbal’s Arm.
    “Nay un farkin’ bastard is goin’ ta call tha Swift Clan un bandits!” He thought. His brother- and sister-warriors marching at his side, they reached the outskirts of the city’s land shortly after dawn that foggy morning. Backed by four hundred warriors, one hundred archers, and an additional hundred supply haulers, drummers, and banner bearers, the Swift Clan marched on in perfect lines and complete silence. Rick marched in the front with his brother Darrian, to his left, and his mistress Alexis, to his right. Behind him was his sister Evann, who had arrived from her home in Cormyr weeks before. They climbed the last hill and stopped as they reached the walls of the small town of Rowandale. The tensions between the clan and Ingbal’s Arm, and the proximity of Rowandale to Rick’s tribe lands had caused the city to fortify the place. The town now sported a full garrison of Ingbal soldiers, archer towers with watchmen, guards at the gates, and stone walls ten feet high. Rick raised his hand high in the air, signaling his warriors to stop. He approached the guard at the gate, his beautiful red cloak flapping in the wind behind him.
    “I’m giving ye un last shot ta apologize ta me an’ my clan!” Rick shouted in a commanding voice.
    “We’re not backing down! You better go back to your huts, barbarian, or you’ll be the one apologizing!”
    Rick simply nodded without a word, his blue eyes becoming two bright red storms of rage. Rick returned to his ranks and began to bark orders. “Archers! Ready your arrows!” Immediately, those carrying the enormous packs filled with supplies began to run down the archer lines, igniting the tips of the arrows. Drummers in the back began to pound their instruments, and a rhythm of triumph and victory filled the air.
    “Warriors! Ready your weapons!” Hundreds of axes were unsheathed instantly, dozens of blades shining in the morning as the sun began to pierce through the fog. Rick drew his own weapon: His magical scimitar that had never failed to slice a head off. The blade glimmered in the fog as he raised it high in the air and shouted towards the archer towers of Rowandale.
    “For tha last time! Farkin’ apologize ye bastards!”
    “Never! We will never give into you pathetic, foolish heathens! Return to your hovels or face the consequences!” A guard roared back at Rick.
    Rick nodded again and turned to face his brother-warriors. “Archers! On my mark ye fire! THREE! TWO! ONE! FIRE!”
    The sky was suddenly filled with a shower of streaming fire as hundred of blazing arrows soared over the town walls into the ranks of the waiting Ingbal soldiers. Dozens were cut down. Arrows landed in the roofs of houses and ignited them. Parts of the town went up in flames as the Ingbal ranks rushed out of the gates to meet the warriors. Rick roared to his brothers as soon as the gates were thrown open, “Warriors! CHAAAAARGE! IN THA NAME OF THA SWIFT CLAAAAN!”
    Four hundred warriors raced to meet the defenders, shining blades raised high in the air. Rick bounded in a frenzy towards his first opponent, his scimitar high, his cloak dancing in the wind behind him. The armies slammed into each other with arrows soaring through the air. Rick tore through his enemies, his scimitar slicing and dicing with enough fury and passion fueling it to take two heads in one swing. He danced on the battlefield, never stopping in his fury even for a moment. He felt the hot sting of a blade tear through flesh and whirled around to meet the attacker, ramming his blade straight through the man’s chest, the bloody tip sticking out his back. Rick retracted the bloody blade and the man fell forward to the ground, clutching his chest as his life rapidly faded away. Rick bounded off again like a feral wolf into the battle.
    The barbarian horde tore through the defenders with no mercy. They stormed the town and slaughtered any who offered resistance. Innocents who did not raise a blade against the Swift Clan were treated kindly and taken prisoner, food and water were offered to those who needed it. The warriors helped themselves to the spoils of war, looting the town of anything valuable. Rick looked around the town, covered from head to toe in blood, little of it his own, and thought that he could make good use of his newly acquired land. A warrior carrying a banner of the Swift Clan grinned at Rick as he walked towards the town center and anchored the pole into the ground. A large yellow wolf’s head behind two crossed blades on a deep red banner flapped in the wind. Rick walked towards the mass of his brother-warriors and raised his sword high into the air and roared into the wind. His brothers and sisters joined in the celebration with rattling weapons and thunderous battle cries echoing off the hills around the town. Rick smiled to himself. The battle was over. The battle was won._**


  • Why didnt you tell your kids about Deacon! :evil:

    Great story 😉

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    what can i say…Great choice of song [Chuckles] 😄 😄 😄


  • waves goodbye Rick will be missed, but not forgotten. 🙂


  • Rick needs statues in his name I command! STATUES!!

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    ((I was bored and without internet, so this story popped up.))

    _**Future

    Late one night, Rick sat down and wrote his thoughts down on a piece of parchment on the desk in their room in the Regal Whore Inn…

    _It’s been weeks now since we returned from the honeymoon, and I can honestly say I have never been happier. I share a bed not just with a lover anymore, but with my wife. Each morning I wake and see her irresistible green eyes and charming smile, and each night I return home to her beautiful hair and wondrous body. If any problems occur during the day while we are apart, that is, if we are apart, they simply melt away as I slip under the covers next to her.

    It’s funny, Aaimie keeps a diary. She keeps all her thoughts inside that book that now rests next to my arm as I write this. If I so wished, I could simply open her diary and read her thoughts, but I feel as if I have no need to do such. I can read her thoughts just by looking in her eyes, or watching her smile, by her kiss, or simply by which color dress she wears. I can read her like a book, and have no need to read her book at the same time.

    We have discussed our plans for the future. Things look well for the two of us. When the money comes, we will build a house here in Jiyyd, perhaps near the lake. She likes to be near a lake. Perhaps that goes back to her days in Silverymoon? I know not. I have lived in this small town for so many years, and Aaimie has made many friends with the local farmers as well. While most of my friends live in Peltarch these days, and I find myself spending less and less time in Jiyyd, I cannot leave. I will defend this town until I can no longer raise my axe above my head. We have decided as well that Jiyyd is the perfect place to raise a family, perhaps two kids. I will teach them the ways of the blade, and Aaimie will teach them how to sing. She teases me, saying she will teach both the girls and the boys how to sing. I will pass onto them the old legends of the Clan, and the next generation will begin anew. We will both teach them how to smith, and they will help us in the forge we plan to build in our home. Aaimie offered the suggestion of opening a store from our house, with her selling armor and I weapons.

    Things are going well for us. I have begun making weapons for Nico Black to sell, and we split the profits on his sales evenly. It works well, but I need to keep a steady supply of weapons to him. He is quite the salesman, and is able to devote much more time to it than I. Sam keeps his watch on the Hill, and is not yet ready to retire to his farm and pass the Hill onto me. The farking bandits still have not learned, and just the other day they launched an attack with wenches, half-invisible officers, bastard clerics, and others in their ranks. They were tougher than they normally are, and as we spotted the mage upon the hill responsible, Cyrus summoned a bear that kept the mage busy as Talgrath and I charged and swiftly removed his head. Other than that attack, it has been quiet. We have made several mining trips to the far western reaches of the Rawlinswood where a gem quarry exists, and I have found several veins of Amethyst. Aaimie’s malachite cutting is coming along extremely well. By gods I swear she has a natural talent for smithing and mining; much like a sorcerer has a natural talent for magic and a wizard must study books for years, she is like a sorcerer while the rest of us are wizards. When the time is right, we will also return to the southern Rawlinswood to get revenge on the goblins that took my wife’s life away. Often we spend our time these days at the southern gate of Norwick for some entertainment. Norwick is full of so many bumbling idiots and bastards; the show is different every time we sit there. She jokes with me, saying she’d love to sit and watch a show there with me, as long as I am not the one putting it on. Tensions between Norwick and myself have lulled lately. Maythor is upholding his end of the bargain, and I have honored my end of the bargain. When the time comes, I will fight the bastard Uthger. I learned much from that dream, and will not forget my brother’s words. I must have patience and wait for the right time to get my revenge. The same goes for Tibaut. We will avenge the clan, and I will get revenge on Uthger, but a little patience can go a long way, I am finding.

    The light from the small candle I am using as a light source is waning, so I must finish this. I would use my ring’s light, but I do not want to wake my sleeping beauty. She sleeps quietly now in our bed, and from the desk here I can see a smile on her face. I wonder what she dreams of at times. Often I find myself staring at the golden band she placed on my finger at our wedding, and often I take off my gauntlet and twist it in my fingers if she is not with me. I once told another Tribesman whose clan had met a similar fate to ours that as long as one from the Clan was alive, then the Clan lived on. I found now that there was more truth in my words than I originally thought. Now, there is not one, but two of us. The Clan is alive, and once again growing. Some day I will pass on the traditions to my son and daughter, and some time in the future the clan will be strong once again.

    I love you Aaimie._

    With that, the candle faded and the room was shrouded in darkness once more. Rick left the parchment on the desk, felt his way over to the bed, and climbed under the sheets. Aaimie’s smile grew slightly as she stirred, her head falling on his chest, her arms wrapping themselves around him.**_

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    **_Wedding

    _Look off, dear Love, across the watery sands
    And watch the meeting of the sun and sea
    How long they kiss in sight of all the lands
    Ah! Longer, longer we!

    Come forth, sweet stars, and comfort heaven's heart
    Glimmer, ye waves, 'round else unlighted sands
    Oh night! Divorce our sun and sky apart!
    Never our lips, never our hands

    • Evening Song_

    There was once a woman in this land who went by the name of Jenna Joydancer. Her friends called her Jenny, and she was a priestess of Lliira. Everybody knew her, and everybody liked her. She always smiled, and her high spirits could never be brought down.

    Jenny wore a leather collar around her neck at all times of the day. She never removed it. One day, she explained to a few of her friends what the collar meant. She was a slave. She had a mistress who took care of all of her needs, from what she ate, to which dance she would perform for the evening entertainment, to which position she would sleep in that night. Jenny fell in love with her mistress, and obeyed every command she gave her like an obedient dog. She and her mistress were eventually wed, and they loved each other very much. However, Jenny was always her slave, and her mistress always owned her.

    Rick found this peculiar when he heard the story. Jenny was happy with being her mistress's slave. When asked if she wanted the leather collar removed, she would fervently reply "No." She had explained that dozens had come after her, attempting to remove her head simply to relieve her of the collar. Jenny was happy, and wanted to serve her mistress in every way she could. Rick could not understand how she could be content with simply carrying out her mistress's will, without any thought to her own safety, her own needs, or anything about herself. Jenny simply explained to him that she loved her mistress, and it truly made her happy to see that what she did could make her mistress happy. Jenny found happiness in that. She cried when her mistress cried, simply because she was sad. Jenny was happy when her mistress was happy, simply because she was happy. Rick did not understand it then.

    Rick's mind drifted over the past relationships he had carried on with various women. He looked back, and his mind began to label each relationship with a simple phrase. He looked back to Athkatla and his mind said,
    "Too dull"
    "Too lacking."

    They had meant nothing to him. His mind drifted to his first in Narfell, a girl with dark skin and darker hair whom he had spent a night with.
    "Too bitchy," his mind said.

    His mind drifted to the four years he spent with an elf with skin-shaded blue. He thought of their times together, and he found he could remember more fights and arguments and problems than moments of joy and happiness.
    "Too bossy," his mind said.

    He thought back to his relationship with another blue-skinned woman, with bright red eyes. He thought of the times they spent in each other's arms. It was a relationship of sheer lust and desire; there was no emotion. What they had shared was no more than a simple affair, fueled by sheer passion. She had left him to have another, an elf.
    "Too empty," his mind said.

    His mind wandered on to the pink hair. Demi Arkania Rei Can'dii. He had feelings for her in the past, but never had her. She was the only woman for which he had feelings but never had. He thought over their friendship, and all the adventures they had been on and all the great times they had shared. He cursed himself for letting his heart wander from Aaimie, and despised that false rumors still floated about, years afterward, that he had cheated on Aaimie with Demi. The pink hair was still there, just as it always had been. However, it was just that: it was simply pink hair. They were friends, and would remain as such.
    "Too much," his mind said.

    With a smile, his thoughts came to Aaimie. He thought back to the day they met, ironically, at the south fire inside the southern gates of Norwick. He remembered the first time he had shown her Jiyyd. He had told her it was just a quiet, backwater town, and as they arrived at the gates, Rick's friend Samin had run up to them with a panicked look and shouted that Shadows were spewing forth from the temple and overrunning the town. He recalled the first time he took her to the southern woods of the Gypsy Camp, and she told him all about her past as they relaxed on the bridge crossing a gorge with a waterfall rushing down its slope. He thought of the day she decided to move from Norwick to Jiyyd, once Rick had been banned again from the town. Not long after that they had shared a meal upon the hill overlooking the southern gate and the Orcish plains. That meal was to be the first of many they would have together on the hill. His mind continued to wander down through each memory of them together, until he arrived at the present day, hours later.
    "Perfect," his mind said, with a smile on his face.

    –----------------

    The day finally came. It came quicker than Rick had expected it would, but he couldn't wait. They had planned everything out, and he knew it was going to be perfect. Aaimie had a few surprises for him, she told him the day before, and he wasn't allowed to see her once darkness fell until the ceremony. He thought the tradition an odd one, but honored it nonetheless. As the day slowly went underway, Rick watched the locals setup the chairs, bring out the altar, and Drudo arrive with the largest amount of ale Rick had ever seen.

    Evening fell, and slowly guests began to arrive in Jiyyd, all with grins on their faces as they congratulated Rick. Every seat that had been set out was filled, and many had to stand in the back during the ceremony. Rick looked up and noticed that rain clouds were slowly setting in, but he didn't care. Nothing was going to ruin this day for him and Aaimie.

    Guests were seated, early congratulations and gifts had been given, and the entire town was in anticipation of the ceremony beginning. Rick stood at the altar with the priestess Khaya proudly beside him, waiting for the bride to arrive to commence the ceremony. A small troupe of bards consisting of Rick's close friends Mirkali Vragnorich, Zyphlin Re'cual and Eowiel Senella began to strike up a quiet, cheerful tune as the wedding went underway. All heads were turned to watch the road in anticipation of the beautiful bride making her way slowly to the altar.

    Slowly, and with Sam proudly at her side, Aaimie began to walk down the aisle with her charming, bright smile. Rick gawked at her stunning, silk, white wedding dress, and realized that this must have been the surprise she had been saving for the wedding. They took each other's hands, and turned towards Khaya, who began the ceremony.

    "Rick and Aaimie have called upon you to be here today to witness their declaration of love for each other. It is a blessed event… for it seems not often in this region that we are assembled on to partake in something of this nature," Khaya began. Rick turned to look at Aaimie, and his eyes met her dazzling, emerald green eyes. "Marriage in many ways is like a Binding of a book. I wish them many… many pages..." The couple faced each other, their hands entangled, both with bright smiles on their faces.

    "Aaimie, do you choose Rick to be with you to supplement the rest of your life?" Khaya asked the question, turned towards Aaimie. With a wide grin on her face, came her reply.

    "I do."

    With a smile of her own quickly coming to her lips, Khaya then turned towards the great Chieftain. "And Rick, do you choose Aaimie to be your supplement as well?"

    "I do."

    With that, the couple pulled each other close and embraced with a gentle kiss.

    Rick understood now. He understood what Jenna had been speaking about all those years ago. He finally saw what it meant to be happy to see someone else's face brighten with joy. He understood what it meant to be sad simply because she was in anguish, and to try everything possible to make her happy again. Did he consider himself a slave? No. Did he consider himself shackled? No. Was he no longer a free man? No. He was the happiest man he had ever been. He had married his soul mate. He had married Aaimie.

    It is said that an Elven soul bond makes a marriage look like child's play. If that is indeed the case, then the love between these two makes an Elven soul bond look like child's play._**

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    ((Big thanks to Riverthorn for this incredible event. I had a blast with it and didn't expect anything like what it turned out to be. Thank you so much for all your hard work. 🙂 ))

    _**Bloodline

    Rick smiled to himself as he sat in his usual spot in Jiyyd: beneath the lamp post closest to the Regal Whore Inn. He kept up his daily rounds at Sam's Hill, soon to be taking over for the Helmite once he settled himself on his farm in the Valley. He had spent time with Aaimie, seeking out copper and enjoying each other's company. They were to be getting married soon, and had just recently set a date. The preparations were all but complete. Life was good.

    He heard familiar footsteps and turned his head towards the Inn and couldn't stop the smile quickly spreading on his face as he saw Aaimie walking towards him. She wore her Cormyrean dress today, and had something wrapped in cloth in her hands. They embraced and shared a kiss and she offered him the wrapped gift. Rick opened it with a big smile, and was surprised to see she had baked a pie for him. It was fresh and still warm from the oven, and they decided to have their snack upon the hill overlooking the southern gate of Jiyyd where they had shared many meals together over the years. The sun was slowly setting, and Aaimie took out a bottle of milk with two glasses and filled each of them as Rick cut two slices of pie.

    The meal was delicious, and Aaimie laid down in Rick's lap and they watched the sunset together on the Hill. Slowly, she dozed off into a comfortable sleep, with one of her hands entangled in his.

    Suddenly, a spark came from the wolf's eye on Aaimie's wedding ring, and a cloud of smoke billowed up into the air around the happy couple. The plumes slowly formed into a wolf with beady eyes, staring at Rick. More smoke seemed to fill the air that quickly grew colder and colder, and the Chieftain struggled to keep conscious, giving the wolf a questioning look.

    Rick awoke in a snowy valley. Or it seemed he awoke, he was dazed and confused, but the ghostly wolf was standing near him, his eyes locked on Rick.

    Rick looked around; the valley was blanketed in an even layer of snow and seemed to stretch on for miles every direction he looked. He sat up and dug out his armor, cautious that this might be some trick his enemies had set for him. The dim light in the valley caught the Swift emblem engraved into his breastplate, and for a moment, the wolf's head was illuminated. Rick grinned slightly at the sight, and tossed his plates on and looked up, only to find Uthger charging at the spiritual wolf, still staring at Rick. The Chieftain shouted and roared for Uthger to stop, but his words fell on deaf ears. Uthger's axe began to cleave and claw at the wolf, which howled and disappeared into a billow of smoke. Rick charged at Uthger with a feral look in his eyes, and Uthger turned his attention to Rick, a smirk on his face and a lust for revenge in his eyes.

    Rick couldn't recall the battle. In a flash, he suddenly found himself sprawled on the ground in a puddle of his own blood, his armor shattered with Uthger staring down at him with a trickle of blood slowly dripping down his right shoulder. The smirk had never left his face.
    "Do I have to kill you again? I told you I'd come for you again one day." Uthger spoke in his low, mocking voice. Suddenly, flames spouted from the ground and enveloped Uthger. The fire retreated, and Uthger was gone. Rick dropped his axe and howled into the air, and bent his knees a bit. His tail was bugging him, and he had an itch above his ear. Wait a minute, why did he have a tail? Rick looked down at himself and saw he had been transformed into a beast. He was an abomination, no longer the proud chieftain of the great Swift Clan. Hair completely covered his body, his fingers had grown into long talons, and his teeth were elongated. He howled again in confusion and licked his chops. Suddenly, he whirled around at the sound of heavy boots jogging through the snow behind him, and bounded forward on all four legs towards the bandits charging at him with their acidic spells, maces, and daggers. Without a second thought, Rick began to claw and bite at the bandits, the snow quickly staining bright red with their blood. He ripped the throats from the Marauder Faithfuls, and shredded the limbs from their mages. Rick howled again and again, knowing he had to take down the bandits.

    As the battle subsided and the bandits grew fewer and fewer, Rick began to explore the valley. His bloody teeth were barred, and he has a taste for blood in his mouth. He would find Uthger, and he would fight him, and kill him. He would slaughter the man who had caused so much strife for so many years. He was not going to lose this time. His large, hind legs carried him through the snow, his eyes glowing red with rage, searching out every nook and cranny in the valley. He let out vicious howls and roars, sending challenges to Uthger again and again. Still, the Barbarian was nowhere to be found.

    Suddenly, the wind carried a voice to Rick's ears. It sounded familiar to him, and he rushed in the direction it came from, and found his Hin friends Frem and Ginger standing near the edge of a cliff in the long valley. Ginger screamed and Frem began to shout at Rick, and told Ginger to back away from the "werewolf." Rick frantically tried to explain to them he wasn't a werewolf, but couldn't speak. All that came out were threatening growls and barks. he wrote his name in the snow and pointed to them, when abruptly he noticed Sam and Talgrath were there, just as confused as the others. Rick pointed to his name in the snow and jumped up and down on his hind legs in an attempt to explain to them that he was not a werewolf. Talgrath speculated that perhaps this werewolf ate Rick. The Chieftain jumped around and howled in frustration, when suddenly he began to grow tired of standing on just his hind legs. Without warning, he barked to the others who now looked strangely like wolves and explained to them that he was Rick and that Uthger had disappeared.

    No longer was he an abomination. He had become a wolf, a leader of the pack.

    The other wolves fell in line behind their leader Rick, and the hunt began. They spotted bears, boars, and deer and surrounded each, gnawing and chewing at the animals before feasting on the delicious meat inside. They chased around an entire pack of wild animals that stood no chance against the ferocity of the wolves, and one by one, each of them fell to the pack. A cowardly bear with black fur panicked and tried to escape, his padded feet leaving tracks in the deep snow. Even in the dim moonlight, the wolves were able to track the bear, and Rick let out a long howl, raising his head high into the air, and charged forth at blinding speed. He tackled the bear and locked his jaws into its neck, ripping open its flesh and bringing the animal down almost immediately. The others quickly joined Rick and they again feasted on their prey with pride. With jowls covered in blood, Rick trotted over to the nearby stream and lapped up some water, and let out another howl into the air. His cry echoed off the surrounding hills into the deep, dark night, with the moon shining down on the cold valley and the proud pack.

    The wolves faded away, and suddenly Rick picked up a familiar scent. The huts, the people, the weapons, the land itself. He could smell it. He smelled his home, his Tribelands. His ears perked as familiar voices of his family came flooding in through the valley. He stopped at a cliff, and suddenly the fur fell away from his skin, and he stood up on his legs. His tail had disappeared, and he picked up his axe, brushed his hair from his eyes and adjusted his breastplate. He noticed the spirit wolf beside him again, staring out over the cliff. Rick turned his head to look, and saw his family. Generations of the proud Swift Clan were bustling through the valley, going about their normal, everyday lives. A pack of warriors came back from a hunt with large pelts of animals and proud grins on their faces; children ran around laughing and playing war games with wooden axes and swords; women tended to everyday chores about the lands. Their Chieftain smiled proudly down on them from the cliff and watched in silence.

    Suddenly, on a nearby rock, a light appeared. Rick's attention flickered over to the rock, and he watched the light. A figure stepped forward in great armor and a sword, his right hand was missing. In the distance, Rick noticed another figure, with six powerful arms, smiling at the clan, watching in silence. Slowly, the Chieftain approached the figures, and the spirit wolf followed behind closely. As he saw who they were, he dropped to his knees, his axe blades facing downward and piked into the ground, his hands gripped tightly around the tip of the handle.

    Rick heard a crackle in the air and looked over, only to find the wolf that had been the only one acknowledging his presence gone. In his place stood Darrian the Swift, Rick's brother. Darrian's powerful sword he had used since he turned eighteen rested on his shoulder, and a bright, happy grin was on his face as he extended his arms wide to Rick, and they embraced in a brotherly hug. They sat down on the ground, weapons at the sides and had a chat. They began to talk, discussing what had happened the day Rick left and the Clan had been overrun, but Darrian waved away Rick's apologies.

    "Listen, Rick, ye have ta stop lettin' that evil fark Uthger get to you so much."
    "Darrian, he's a bastard. He's called me a fake, an' he thinks I lied about what happened to the clan."
    "So? Who cares what the fark thinks?"
    "I can't jus' ignore him, Darrian."
    "You can't? Why not?"
    "How can I ignore a bastard like him? Aye, he's wrong, but it's a pain in the arse!"
    "Use your head. Ye have a temper, and you need to control it. Rick, can't you feel us inside you? Think about your blood, Rick. You're our only connection to this world anymore. If you go an' get yourself killed, who's going to pass on our blood? Ignore Uthger, for now. What about that lass ye're marryin'? Think about her, think about your blood. Ye have to pass on our blood to the next generation an' keep the clan alive. Ye've got more important things ta think about than Uthger."
    "So ye're sayin'… wait? Ignore Uthger, for now?"
    "Exactly. Ye're tha only link we have to this world anymore, an' ye have ta keep it strong an' pass our blood onto the next generation." Darrian grinned at Rick. "Ye get the fun job."
    Rick simply chuckled at Darrian, knowing fully what he meant, his thoughts drifting to his gorgeous blonde bride.

    Suddenly, Darrian sat up and grinned at Rick, a familiar twinkle in his eye. Rick raised an eyebrow and grinned back, and jumped up to his feet with knees bent. The two began a wrestling match, just as they used to so many years ago. They traded blow for blow, tackle for tackle, and hold for hold, but eventually Rick gained the upper hand, and Darrian faded from his sight, along with the clan and the valley itself.

    Rick woke from the dream, on the blanket Aaimie had set down on the hill in Jiyyd, with his fiancée resting quietly next to him, one arm draped over Rick's chest. Rick heard a voice, it was his brother's.

    "She'll make a fine addition to the clan."

    Rick could only grin at the words, and glanced over to his left as something caught his eye. His jaw dropped as he saw a set of his clan's armor laid out on the blanket next to him. It was the armor of a sister-warrior of the Swift Clan. It was Aaimie's set of armor. Quickly and quietly, Rick began to pack the armor inside his bags as Aaimie began to stir. He couldn't help but grin, and decided he would give it to her on the day of their wedding, when she would become Aaimie of the Swift Clan. Aaimie sat up and looked around, and Rick smiled at her and kissed her cheek softly. A wide grin cracked on her face and held him close as the sun slowly began to rise over the lands.

    Patience. That's what Rick had forgotten. Simple patience. He had become obsessed with revenge. Revenge on Uthger, revenge on Tibaut, and revenge on the goblins who took the life away from Aaimie. He would get his revenge, but only when the time was right. If he fell while trying to get his revenge too soon, the legacy of the Swift Clan could not be passed down, and the Clan would truly die. Rick would not let that happen.

    So, he would wait. He would wait to get his revenge. He would continue his proud bloodline, and give his wife and child a safe home. Revenge would come when he was ready. He would no longer strive for it.

    He watched the sunrise with his beloved that morning. It was a new day.**_

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    **_Two-faced (III)

    For a few weeks, everything was quiet. The cowardly Shadowstrider had run off and was nowhere to be found. The mysterious "second Shadowstrider" had not turned up since Uthger had been murdered in the Pass. Questions had still been left unanswered. Rick kept an eye out, however, as he made his daily patrols around the Hill. He and Aaimie shared some time together, as she was upset that her closest friend whom she had known for years suddenly turned his back on her. Sam continued to keep his watch over Durai and his beloved Shalia like a hawk, rarely letting the two out of his sight.

    Sam had made a vow to his friend and mentor, Kanen Hightower, to watch over his children should something happen to him. Sam would not break his word, and did what he thought was best for Durai as he searched for his father's whereabouts.

    Sometime later, however, something unexpected occurred. Rick was returning to Jiyyd from a patrol about the Hill to find the redheaded Adriana, clad in her armor with her shining great sword at her side, kneeling down in front of Jeni from the Gypsy Camp. Jeni bounded over to Rick, giggling and smiling happily; the two had become friends over the past year as the Cyrists, who now resided in the Gypsy Camp, had used her as a messenger in a silly plot of theirs. She told Rick, while munching happily on a cookie, that the Cyrist known as Michael wanted to speak with him. Adriana had pressing business to take care of in Jiyyd, so Rick and Jeni, hand in hand, went back to the Gypsy Camp. Rick couldn't help but smile at the child as she hummed and sang and bounced around as they walked along the road.

    As soon as they reached the Camp, Jeni bounded off towards Katya's tree to help her Aunt with her chores, and Sam came bounding through the trees with a concerned look on his face, a terrified Shalia trailing behind as quickly as she could.

    "Mr. Rick! Help Sam!" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs. Rick looked over, a bit surprised and Sam began to tell him that Durai had disappeared from the Boarshead Inn in Norwick, and Sam had followed the "path" of the kidnapper's evil scent to the Gypsy Camp. However, as they reached the camp, Sam began to lose concentration, and he explained he had lost track. As they searched around frantically, Michael came over and Rick asked him if he had seen Durai, but Michael replied he hadn't.

    "Thyrm and his gang ran by here with a large sack, though."

    Sam focused for a moment, and finally picked up the scent of evil once more through the graces of his lord Helm, and Michael told them that they ran south. All at once, Sam, Rick, and Shalia and the hin Scutum who had met up with Rick on the way to the Gypsy Camp sprinted south into the spider infested woods, with Sam hot on the trail of evil that led them to a cave swarming with little creatures that cackled and wild pixies. These creatures, gremlins, were no more than a nuisance to the four, and they cut through them easily, charging through the cave, and shouting for Durai. They acted too rash, however, and soon they found themselves the victims of an ambush by men in dark clothes with hoods hiding their faces. One was able to sneak up behind Shalia and drive his dagger deep into her back. Rick bounded forth and leaped at the man, swinging his axe as hard as he could, and removed the man's head in a single blow. Quickly, and in a strained voice, Shalia called upon her goddess and closed her wounds as best she could.

    The four dispatched the ambushers and charged forward, finally discovering Durai in a pit with a chest nearby. Rick searched around frantically for Thyrm, but neither heard nor saw anything as Sam helped Durai out of the pit. Durai ran over to Shalia and embraced her tightly as Sam began to force open the chest. Rick could hear no footsteps shuffling past with the sudden ruckus and gave up, deciding that Thyrm was gone.

    Sam forced the lock and pulled out a sword. Not just any sword, but the sword that Rick had seen Shadowstrider use in the Nars Pass. Finally, he was able to take a closer look at the sword, and found the word "Cardea" engraved into the base of the blade.

    "Tha fark is Cardea?" Rick asked, looking at the others who, each in turn, simply shrugged. They trudged back to the Camp, the gears in Rick's head spinning quickly. What was Cardea? It had to be some connection to Shadowstrider, but what exactly? Did it have to do with the grave they saw in the scrying of the green sash? So many questions, so few answers.

    That would change, however, when Rick and the others reached the Camp.

    Durai and Shalia laid down near a fire in the center of the camp, enjoying each other's company. An exhausted Sam laid down and passed out, snoring contently. Rick, however, was determined to get some answers, and sat down with the Cyrists and spoke with them. Finally, the truth came out, ironically enough from a group of Cyrists.

    There were, in fact, two Shadowstriders. There was no Doppleganger. There was no Rakshasa. Shadowstrider was not going insane, nor did any of their other theories prove to be correct. They were brothers: Perdix Cardea and Thyrm Cardea. Perdix Cardea was the Shadowstrider everyone knew. He served in Norwick's Militia, befriended Rick's beloved Aaimie and gained her trust, and served the Divine Shadow, Mask. His brother, Thyrm, recently arrived from Waterdeep with an underground organization known as the Shadowcars. This group of thugs, assassins, murderers, thieves, and other shady folks were known to wield a tremendous amount of power in Waterdeep. Michael explained to Rick that Thyrm came here to capture his brother, who fled Waterdeep after accusations flew surrounding his family's murder. According to Michael, who smirked and said that anyone will say anything with the right drugs, Perdix had been accused of killing his family, and fled the scene to safety. Rick showed Michael the sash and sword, and he speculated that perhaps the sword was a family sword. Satisfied, Rick thanked Michael and told Sam and Khaya, who had been in the camp when they returned from the woods, that they were heading to Peltarch to scry the sword for further information, as well as to see if the followers of the God of Lies were telling the truth.

    They reached Peltarch and headed straight for Daisy, and again saw the same gravestone. This time, however, Rick spotted the name "Cardea" on the headstone. Between Khaya's confirmation, the sword, and now the scrying, the Cyrist's words seemed to be truthful. The scrying also revealed Thyrm sneaking around the southern woods of the Gypsy Camp, nearby the cave that Durai had been dragged to by Thyrm.

    Once again, Rick and Sam had the upper hand, and knew the truth.

    A few weeks later, Rick again found young Jeni running around Nars Pass. His eyes went wide as he realized a bandit in hiding could take the little girl's life if she wasn't careful, and he rushed after her and stopped her, demanding to know why she was out of the camp. Michael had sent her to relay a message to Rick and Sam: It was time.

    After safely escorting Jeni back to the camp and speaking briefly with Michael, Rick charged off and found Sam heading north from Norwick with Durai, Shalia, and a few others. He told Sam the message, and they rushed off to the camp.

    The hunt began.

    Michael told them that Thyrm had been spotted to the south of the camp once again with his gang from Waterdeep. Rick, along with Sam, Durai, and dozens of others who pitched in to help, including Chiero, Maythor, and a young ranger named Jann Moonbow, set off to capture the man that had eluded them so many times in the past.

    They traveled south. Chiero scouted ahead often, and they plowed through the spiders as they trudged deeper and deeper into the woods. Suddenly, they came upon dark men in hoods who charged with daggers poised to dig into anyone they could, and Rick led the group into battle, shouting war cries. They tore through Thyrm's ranks, meeting their daggers and spells with volleys of skillfully aimed arrows, powerful axes, and swords.

    Finally, they came upon a small clearing in the woods. A natural bridge formed over a deep crevasse in the earth with a large waterfall sending water splashing onto the bridge and into the chasm below. The sight was breathtaking, and Thyrm had made his base here, corrupting the area around the hidden gem with his presence.

    "Come out Thyrm!" The hunters began to demand. Frustrated, Sam reached into his pack and brought out some exploding devices he had picked up from the Goblins of the Rawlinswood and began to toss them around. As they made contact with the ground, the flimsy devices sent off large explosions, shattering rocks and sending debris in every direction, pillars of smoke slowly rising into the sky. Suddenly, they heard a raspy cough, and Thyrm Cardea revealed himself. He stood behind the waterfall with a mocking smirk across his face.

    The interrogation began amidst raunchy jokes from Thyrm and threatening retorts from Chiero and Mirkali as Sam growled and stepped forward. Rick quickly took control of the situation, and shouted for everyone to quiet down. He approached Thyrm, and held out the sword, as well as the sash. Rick grinned. He saw the hesitation and fear in Thyrm's expression. The Cyrists had been right. Thyrm quickly regained his composure, but Rick persisted. He demanded to know the Shadowcars' plans, the story behind the fate of their father, and asked every question he had yet received an answer for. Thyrm replied to each with a smart remark, and the group was growing tired, restless, and disgusted with his sexual remarks and bathroom humor. Sam stepped forward and tied Thyrm's hands and hoisted him up onto his shoulder, and they began the trip back home. Maythor offered to open the jail cell in his base in Jiyyd, and they headed there.

    They reached Jiyyd and tossed him in the cell, and again they were met with sick jokes and insults. Mirkali offered a few humorous sentences to give Thyrm for his crimes, to which Thyrm smirked or replied with an even sicker comment. Chiero meanwhile, simply lost his temper and fired arrows into the cell. Sam sat down, tired with the ordeal, and Rick tried to maintain control of the situation.

    Finally, Rick received the confession he had been seeking. Thyrm had come to Narfell, seeking his brother out to drag him back into service in Waterdeep with the Shadowcars. They had made a blood bond, and Thyrm demanded Perdix uphold that bond and aid his family. The crimes had been stated. Thyrm's father had been a knight of Torm in the Order of the Cloth in Waterdeep, and the green sash was his father's. Thyrm was guilty. Rick moved to remove him from the cell, taking out his axe. Durai moved to stop Rick, demanding that they send him to Waterdeep to face proper trial for his crimes there. Frustrated, the group turned to leave, but Thyrm stopped Rick and whispered in his ear.

    "Yeah, I killed him. I killed my father. I skinned him too. In fact, I was thinking of making a suit out of his flesh. He was holding me back. I was destined to serve Mask, not Torm. So, I murdered him."

    Rick’s eyes went wide as the confession came.

    "I hope they treat ye real nice in Waterdeep, ye sick bastard." Rick uttered in a harsh tone, and they turned to leave.

    It was done. Perdix had disappeared, and Thyrm had been caught. The man responsible for so many atrocities, so many murders, so much trouble, would be tried and justice would be served. Exhausted, but satisfied, the group went on their way, and Rick went to have a quiet meal with his beloved Aaimie._**

  • ?

    **_Two-faced (II)

    The next morning, after a lovely breakfast with Aaimie, Rick set out for his morning patrol around Sam's Hill. He was still unsure of what to do concerning Shadowstrider, and feared that if he didn't act soon, Aaimie might be put in danger. He patrolled the Hill and started the fire, and sat down to think. He went over every minute detail he could recall of the events that had happened, straining to think of a plan to prove to the others what he had seen. Rick was positive it had been Shadowstrider in the pass.

    Suddenly, he heard a struggle near the Hill and was brought out of his thoughts and spotted Talgrath nearby, cleaving a Marauder Cutpurse who had snaked her way through the tall grasses of the Nars up behind him and lunged for his throat. Talgrath sent the woman to her god with ease, and trudged up the Hill to talk to Rick. They two began to discuss the ordeal with Strider, and finally, Rick had a break.

    Talgrath mentioned the Cyrists, and explained to Rick that all they had wanted to do with the letters was cause confusion among their victims. What was happening now? This Shadowstrider was causing nothing but trouble and confusion. They began to discuss possibilities of a magical disguise used by the Cyrist to make himself look like Strider. It became more and more clear to Rick as the two spoke, and once again they had a plan. If there was indeed a Shadowstrider impostor out there, they needed to catch him and find out. They decided that if Shadowstrider were seen "acting odd," they would knock him out and bring him in and question him to see if their theory was correct. The two rushed off, grinning, to find Sam and tell him. They met the half-orc outside of Norwick with the young priest who Rick had met some days before. He had called himself Durron Hawkins. The man was a young Tormite who had explained to Rick that the sash Shadowstrider had dropped belonged to an organization of Tormites in Waterdeep known as the Order of the Cloth.

    However, Rick was in for a surprise that morning.

    Durron Hawkins was the name that Kanen's son, Durai Hightower, had taken for fear that whatever had befallen his father and denied him safe passage to Waterdeep to meet his family was still lurking about. Rick's eyes went wide as he looked over the young boy who couldn't have been over twenty, and listened to Durai's tale. Kanen was to meet his family in Waterdeep, but never showed. Durai had left the city without telling his mother to search for his father, and had traveled back to Narfell. He had been speaking with Sam in the Phoenix Hall when they noticed Shadowstrider slip out, and Durai had feared that perhaps Strider would try to kill him now that he knew his real name. Sam, Talgrath, Durai and Rick discussed their plan concerning Shadowstrider in the woods, and Rick felt that this would finally come to an end. All that was needed was for Shadowstrider to show himself.

    A week later, another break in the case was made. Rick had been standing watch on Sam's Hill, when suddenly it happened. He recognized the nearby shout and whirled around, just in time to see Uthger's body slump to the ground in a heap with a single crossbow bolt lodged in his back, blood flowing freely from the wound into the grass. Rick walked over to the body of his archrival and the ranger named Arah, unable to contain the smirk quickly growing on his face. Arah had seen the perpetrator and described a man that could have been none other than Shadowstrider. Rick stared at the elf with disbelief. Shadowstrider had just accomplished what dragons, demons, devils, fiends, war machines, and thousands of others had failed to do. Not just that, he had accomplished the task with a single bolt and escaped, unscathed. Arah was an old friend of Uthger's, and he began to question Rick on where to take his body. Rick snickered and joked, saying Uthger should be taken to see his best friend Tarien in Norwick. Arah simply scowled and headed for Jiyyd, while the Chieftain headed south for Norwick to find Sam and tell him the news.

    But this was only the beginning of what would be the most exhausting two days Rick had experienced in a long time.

    He arrived at the south gate and found Shadowstrider sitting quietly in his usual spot. This confirmed their suspicions that there was a second Shadowstrider. Rick barked accusations at Strider, but it proved to be fruitless as Strider explained he had been sitting there for some time. Rick saw no crossbow, and rushed off to find Sam. He found Sam with Durai and the elf Kharbeh and told them what happened. Why would Shadowstrider use a crossbow? He hadn't in the past. Theories began to fly as ideas of Dopplegangers, shape shifters and Rakshasas were discussed. Kharbeh and the others began to throw out more and more ideas and confused Rick more by the minute. Suddenly, he may not have been dealing with a simple Cyrist, but possibly a shape shifting Doppleganger or Rakshasa who had murdered Uthger with shocking ease. Rick thought perhaps Uthger might have seen Shadowstrider before he was killed, and sprinted to Jiyyd, only to find Pete talking and giggling with Cotton, and they told him Uthger had run off to Norwick to get revenge on Shadowstrider. Grumbling and cursing, Rick sprinted back to Norwick as fast as he could, and stumbled upon a large crowd at the south gate, watching an enraged Uthger with a low, red glow of a lust for revenge in his eyes charging after a limping Adriana in a duel, his axe covered with blood. Rick stopped, stunned to see Uthger charging Adriana, and watched him bring down the powerful Mystran cleric. Rick looked around and spotted Shadowstrider in a crumpled heap with raspy breathing and sitting in a large puddle of his own blood. Uthger had already gotten his revenge, but on the wrong Shadowstrider! He looked around, and sprinted back to where Sam had been standing and shouted angrily that half the town was at the south gate and Uthger had dueled both Adriana and Strider. The two sprinted back to the gate and began to shout, trying their best to get the crowd to quiet and listen to their explanation. However, their pleas fell on deaf ears. Everyone refused to listen. Adriana slinked off, and Rick ran up to Shadowstrider and the two began screaming at each other. Shouts for jailing Shadowstrider went out, and Rick realized that if they were going to prove they indeed had an imposter on their hands, they would have to isolate Strider. However, the Maskarran refused to be put in jail, stating that he would not let a Barbarian win and walk over him, and that he was leaving. Rick screamed at Strider, demanding that he go to jail for his own safety. Again, Strider denied and limped off, leaving a trail of blood behind him as he turned invisible. After he slipped off, Rick and Sam explained to the others that there were two Shadowstriders, and they were to be brought in, alive, for questioning so that matters could be settled once and for all. The crowd began to disperse.

    This, however, was not the only problem Rick would have to deal with.

    Sometime during the commotion, Rick heard a familiar voice shout the most degrading accusation she had thrown at him since he met her. Rick turned to face Nalum, and stomped up to her. She had the nerve to accuse Shadowstrider not only of carrying on an affair with Aaimie, but that Rick approved of it! Not just that, she had called both he and Aaimie Maskarrans! The nerve that woman had! To suddenly pop up again after years of being gone, expect the Chieftain to welcome her with open arms and free crafting tools, and she had accused him and his beloved of following a despicable, evil god! Again, another screaming match ensued at the gates of Norwick that night. Nalum refused to take back her words, and eluded Rick's grasp, turning invisible and running off. "COWARD!" He shouted after her, and stormed off.

    He headed for Sam's Hill, but was stopped at the northern gates of the town by a terrified Sam who shouted to Rick that Durai had gone missing.

    Rick snapped.

    He went into a state of sheer rage and frenzy, sprinting as fast as he could to Jiyyd, screaming nonsense intermingled with harsh swearing, his voice echoing off the hills in the Nars. He reached Jiyyd and plowed through the gates to find Pete still giggling and chatting with Cotton. No Durai. He screamed nonsense at them, barely aware of who they were. His mind was at its end. His vision faded, focusing only on the road in front of him. Uthger, Nalum's accusations, and Strider's cowardice raced through his head, unable to concentrate or think on anything else. Nearly plowing into the gentle cleric Cyrus at the northern gates, Rick stopped. Part of him demanded he keep moving, and part of him told him to stop. As his mind and body went to war, he began to wildly swing his axe in the air, digging up the earth, chopping down the road sign, and nearly hitting the poor, confused Cyrus in the chest with the weapon's sharp blades. Cyrus did his best to calm the enraged Chieftain, trying to decipher the nonsensical gibberish rushing out of Rick's mouth.

    Finally, Cyrus was able to get Rick to calm himself, just in time for Sam to come rushing out of the gates of Norwick, muttering to himself.

    "He's wid a gurl in the inn." The Paladin said sheepishly. Exhausted, covered in mud, and now hoarse from his tempter tantrum, Rick simply cursed, smacked his forehead, and sat down. His screaming must have been heard in town, as Rick's friend Mirkali came wandering out of the northern gate after Sam and Cyrus walked back inside town. Mirkali grinned as he saw Rick and sat down next to him, and the two began to talk, with Rick tiredly explaining what had happened.

    As if Rick hadn't had enough, a young Gnome suddenly ran up to the two with fear in his wide eyes, blood running down his arms from terrible wounds. The Gnome stammered and shook with terror as he explained to the two that his friend had just been killed and taken by large men with swords in black and red armor after a portal burst open with bright flames all around it. Mirkali and Rick chased after the Gnome as he led them to the site in the eastern parts of the Rawlinswood and showed them where the portal had appeared. The Gnome suddenly ran off into the rainstorm, screaming that he was "next in line," and Mirkali ran off to chase him, nearly colliding with Sam as he ran up to Rick and demanded to know what was happening. With wide eyes, Sam listened, thoughts racing through his head. The list of what it possibly could have been began to grow larger and larger as Rick explained the situation. Kharbeh suddenly popped up from the grass near them and explained to Rick and Sam that she had seen some man enter the old hideout of Norwick's most feared enemy: The witch Vinessa.

    A romp through the woods and a trip through the empty cave later, Rick climbed into bed next to his sleeping beauty Aaimie, exhausted. He hadn't even bothered to clean the mud and blood off of his armor and left it in a heap upon the floor of their small room in the Regal Whore. Tonight the Chieftain's thoughts raced from the door in the dark cave Kharbeh had said led to Drow, to Dopplegangers, Rakshasas and Cyrists, to Nalum's outrageous claims and accusations.

    Though it was far from over, at least for now he could sleep with his love in his arms._**

  • ?

    ((First off, big kudos to Riverthorn who spent a lot of time and hard work putting this amazing quest together! We all had a blast, and thank you for all your work. ^_^))

    _**Two-faced (I)

    Rick had just left Jiyyd, on his way to patrol the area around Sam's Hill. This was becoming a daily routine for the Chieftain and heir to the Hill when Sam would retire. Rick hoped Sam would not take his leave soon; although he knew he was able to take charge of the Hill, he would miss fighting alongside the great half-orc who had become his good friend over the years.

    As he walked along the road, he spotted a figure in black garments with a hood and an arm exposed. He recognized the man as Shadowstrider, and watched him fight off the Marauder Faithfuls that were hounding him and shouting at him. Rick charged forth and joined in the fight, never one to miss an opportunity to crack the skulls of bandits. The clerics were dispatched with ease, and Rick watched Strider. The man had a smirk on his face and a barbed sword in his hand, much different than Shadowstrider's usual weaponry of a bronze sword and shield. Today, however, Strider used a different sword, and no shield. He smirked at Rick and bent over and removed the left ear of each bandit he had killed. Rick frowned at Shadowstrider, and watched him mutter the arcane words that turned him invisible from sight.

    A week later, the same scene happened again in the Nars Pass. Shadowstrider fended off bandits with his barbed sword, and removed their ears, placing them in a pouch on his belt. Rick scowled at Shadowstrider and again he disappeared in a magical display. Rick had known Shadowstrider was a Mask follower, and he knew little of their clergy, save for the fact that most were corrupt, or had been hired out as assassins or the like. Perhaps this was part of their duty, he thought.

    A week later, again the scene occurred, this time near the Peltarch Tower in the Nars Pass. Rick's good friend Talgrath was with him this time, and the two watched Shadowstrider fend off the bandits and remove the ears. Rick growled and shouted at Shadowstrider, "Alright, what the fark ye doin'?" Strider replied with a smirk, "Collecting." Again, he turned invisible, and was gone. Suddenly, Rick spotted a green sash that was left on the ground. It had fallen off Shadowstrider during the struggle with the bandits, and he moved to pick it up. His expression turned grim as he saw the emblem of Torm on the sash, and thoughts began to race through his mind. Had Strider murdered a Tormite? Who was his next target? Rick shuddered as a terrible scene unfolded of Shadowstrider sacrificing his beloved Aaimie as part of his duty to his evil god.

    He began to talk things over with Sam, who had seen Shadowstrider act the same way while he sat watch on the Hill. Sam told Rick as well that while he was having a private discussion with a friend inside the Phoenix Hall, he spotted Shadowstrider inside, eavesdropping, and tried to catch him before he bounded out the door and disappeared. What was Strider up to? Why was he acting so strange? Was there an imposter? Rumors circulated that Shadowstrider had fallen out of favor with Mask, and perhaps he was trying to regain his status with his god and this was his way of doing it. Rick feared that he would take advantage of Aaimie's trust in him, and would target her. It terrified him that her closest friend was also a Mask follower. However, he had promised her that he would not harm him because of her friendship with Strider, and he planned to keep his word.

    A few days later, they found Shadowstrider sitting calmly by the south gate of Norwick. Rick rushed up to Sam, who was already there, with Aaimie following closely behind, and watched Chiero tackle Shadowstrider to the ground, shouting accusations of him slaughtering two deer in front of his eyes. As was to be expected, Shadow simply denied all the accusations of ever being in the Phoenix Hall, or having an ear collection, or slaughtering deer in the woods. The commotion must have been heard inside the town, as suddenly Norwick’s “finest” surrounded Rick and Sam. Rick realized he was face-to-face with all those who despised him the most: Rando, Uthger, Maythor Troff, and Krig Skullboil. The militia demanded to know why Sam and Rick were questioning and accusing a member of the militia, and they tried to explain their story. The intensity of the scene began to increase as tensions rose between those present, age-long rivalries being heated up again as quickly as a black shirt left out in the summer mid-day sun. With the militia captains vigorously defending their fellow guardsman, Shadowstrider finally agreed to allow himself to be placed under a spell that Krig would cast on him, forcing him to tell the truth. Again, Sam and Rick went through their questions, and again, Strider denied each accusation. Perplexed and distraught and now the laughing stock of the crowd, Sam and Rick slinked away and headed back to the Hill.

    Rick didn't understand. He knew what he had seen! Sam knew what he had seen! Rick stared out over the pass, his regal red cloak whipping at his feet in the wind as Sam began to pray quietly to Helm for guidance. Rick's mind refused to give up, however, and the gears continued to turn vigorously. He removed the green sash from its pouch on his belt, and he stared at it. His old friend Elinah Nailow, a knight of Torm happened to pass by the Hill at that time, and she stopped when she saw the distraught looks on Rick and Sam's faces. The Chieftain explained the situation to her, and bluntly stated he thought Krig was lying. Both Sam and Elinah were skeptical of the idea that such a devout priest of Tempus as Krig would simply lie to defend his fellow militiaman, but Rick didn't put it below the militia of Norwick to do such a thing, especially if he was involved. Elinah began to ask Rick about the green sash in his hands, and an idea came to Rick.

    "Who 'ere knows how scryin' works?" He asked. He looked around, and received no answer. "I'm takin' this ta Daisy an' I'm goin' to get it scryed. It's worked in the past, maybe we can get somethin' now." He stated, and soon he, Elinah, and Sam were on their way to Peltarch.

    Sadly, the results of the scrying were just as inconclusive as the feeble interrogation at Norwick. All Daisy was able to reveal to them was a picture of an old gravestone behind some tall grasses. Daisy suspected that perhaps the gravestone was five years or older. Sam and Rick groaned and trudged heavily out of the Temple. Sam thought it best to seek another Paladin's opinion on the entire matter, and Elinah had business to attend to in the city. Defeated, Rick slowly walked south to his beloved Aaimie who lay waiting for him in their room in Jiyyd that night.**_

  • ?

    **Fall

    "You are my sunshine
    My only sunshine
    You make me happy
    When skies are grey
    You'll never know dear
    How much I love you
    So please don't take my sunshine away"

    Rick couldn't sleep.

    Again, and again the vicious nightmare of a scene played in his head. Every time the arrow reached her before he could. Every time his fingers fumbled and struggled to rip open the medical kit and apply the herbs and bandages to slow the flow of blood rushing out of her wounds. Every time he stumbled over the eviscerated goblin at his feet, slipping on the blood on the ground, unable to reach the goblin that had dug his sword through her armor into her flesh, ripping tendons and shattering bones in her body. Every time he watched her crawl on the ground, weakly shouting for help before the arrow sliced through her neck, the shouts cutting off almost instantly. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his failure again and again and again.

    It had started out as a simple walk. They were tired of "the usual" that they did whenever they had some free time. "The usual" consisted of searching around for some copper to squeeze from long exhausted veins in the cave in Jiyyd, and the goblin infested Rawlinswood. After that they would head to Peltarch and smelt any ore they had found, which was followed by a visit to Sam's Hill. They wanted to do something different tonight though, and decided to head south to crack the heads of the goblins that resided in the southern woods of the Rawlinswood instead. Rick watched her as they walked. It may have been a simple stroll through the Nars Pass, but this woman amazed him. She had come from Silverymoon with absolutely nothing, and turned herself into something without any regret of leaving behind everything she knew. She walked with such confidence, strung her bow with skill, and wore her jet-black armor with pride and a bright smile on her face that could make anyone gloomy around her suddenly happy. Rick realized then that not only was he walking with such a woman, he was marrying her too. He knew he was blessed.

    On the way there, Rick smiled and sang, very quietly in her ear, an old children's song but one with a simple message. He gazed into her eyes as he sang to her, "Ye'll ne'er know dear…how much I love you, so please don't take my sunshine away." As he finished the song, they stopped walking and shared a tender, loving kiss that explained and showed their love for each other that a song could only dream of.

    They headed south, hand-in-hand, ready for something different tonight. It started out going fairly well. Aaimie shot down what goblins Rick's sword had yet to split in half, and they were enjoying the sport together and each other's company. A goblin here and there was able to get in a lucky shot, but nothing serious.

    Until it happened.

    They spotted a group of goblins - a mace-bearing soldier and three archers. Rick surveyed the scene and charged towards the goblin he thought he saw eyeing Aaimie and setting up a shot, bringing his sword down upon the creature with no mercy. The soldier quickly charged forth to aid his friend, and both were cut down. Suddenly, Rick heard Aaimie yelp in pain as the assassin leaped out and drove his blades deep into her back, ripping and gnawing at her body. The other two archers snickered and joined their brother and launched a volley of arrows at Rick's beloved, a few making contact with her shoulder, another sinking deep into her knee. Rick began to charge for the assassin who was again trying to wrench his swords into her back, and slipped on the bloody grass, filled with the remains of the goblins he had already taken down. Aaimie ran towards him with pain in her eyes as he jumped up. Rick's blade swung at the assassin, but the goblins had already picked their prey for the night. One of the archers lined up his shot and made contact, sending Aaimie spinning to the ground, yelling and screaming in agony. Rick whirled around and fished out his medical kit, ignoring the goblin assassin who was now trying to dig his blades into Rick's reinforced metal plate with little success. His hands, shaking from the sound of his soul mate in agony, and slippery with the blood of his foes, he fumbled and finally ripped open the bandage pack. He looked up, still running for Aaimie as she crawled on the ground, her blood running far too freely. Her eyes met his and she cried for him, her hand outstretched towards him. He was too slow. The second archer had lined up his shot, and his arrow zoomed by Rick at Aaimie. The arrow slashed through Aaimie's neck, sending a spray of blood over the area as her cries were suddenly cut short, and silence filled the area, save for the goblins snickering and readying their bows to see if they could take out the stunned Chieftain.

    He couldn't recall the rest of the fight, or how he even made it to Jiyyd. He didn't know a few of the goblins had actually gotten a few lucky hits on him, but he didn't care. He had failed. Again. He had failed this wonderful woman more times than he wished to think about or acknowledge. And now she had died in front of his eyes to mere goblins. Goblins! He couldn't even protect someone from goblins! He had missed the trap! He hadn't seen the setup! And now he paid for it, his fiancée lifeless in his arms as he carried her through the Nars in the dead of night back to Jiyyd, sobbing quietly behind his bloodstained helmet. He reached Jiyyd and stumbled through the gates. The town was quiet, and he made his way to Vroka, who looked at him, shocked to see him in such a state. She saw who was on his shoulders and her eyes went wide. Rick dug in his pockets and thrust some amount of gold at her. Apparently it was enough, though Rick hadn't bothered to count. She began the chants and prayers, and Aaimie began to stir.

    They embraced as she regained her senses and saw him sitting there next to her. Some time later he carried her to the inn and up to their room so she could rest and let the rest of the healing process take place. Throughout the night, Rick sat by her, changing her bandages often and comforting her when she awoke in pain. The night passed slowly, and his treatment helped. By morning she was walking, smiling brightly, and singing for him. She took out her lyre as the sun rose over Jiyyd, and frowned as she tried to play a song, but realized she could remember only very little of it. Although she waved away Rick's apologies and kissed him and told him she was fine, he felt guilty, and knew he was at fault for what had happened. He knew why she couldn't remember those songs, and knew he was responsible.

    But she shrugged it off and sang for him a reassuring tune, that even though she had been knocked down and tossed around she got back up. She was alive, and that was what mattered. She smiled at him, gave him another tender kiss, leaning into his grasp and they decided to take a simple walk to Peltarch.

    As he crawled into bed next to her that night, she was resting peacefully, and a smile was on her face as it always had been. He closed his eyes; his arms around her, her head resting against his chest, and again the nightmare began to play in his head.**

  • ?

    OOC: This story has nothing to do with Rick, rather this is the story behind the Swift's emblem: A Wolf's head behind two crossed blades.
    –-------

    After a long, hard day's work of chores, all the children always grew excited as they gathered around the bonfire at night just after dinner to hear one of Grandma's exciting tales. Every night, the children ventured into a great dragon's lair, or the horrifying crypts of a vampire; sometimes they charged forth with the greatest heroes of Swift on the battlefield. Eagerly, they took their seats in a semi-circle around the old, smiling woman and looked up at her with respect, waiting for her tale.

    "What are you gonna tell us tonight grandma?" Asked one child.

    "Children, I have a special tale for you this evening. I am going to share with you one of our greatest and oldest legends, the story of Koth the Great Wolf and Companion of the first Chieftain, Rogan," the old woman began. Excited faces and wide eyes looked up at her as she told the story.

    **Koth the Great

    _Centuries ago, the land was a much different place. The great Yuir was filled with mysteries and much was unknown. Our great Chieftain, Rogan, would often hunt in the Yuirwood with his pet wolf, Koth. Koth and Rogan traveled and fought together everywhere, and on every battlefield. The bond they shared was no less than that of a Druid's connection to his own companion. Koth was an enormous wolf with razor-sharp teeth, claws that could kill a man with a single swipe, and legs powerful enough to carry him across the plains, racing the winds and taunting them. His fur coat was a shade of deep grey except for his two front paws; his left paw was a deep black, his right paw a bright white.

    On one of their frequent hunts into the Great Forest, Rogan and Koth encountered a terrible, vicious beast that towered over them. The horror stood as tall as the trees and lashed out at them with limbs like branches and talons that could have pierced through the strongest steel plates of armor. It glared down at them with the fiery eyes of a demon, and threatened to crush them like bugs. Koth snarled and charged the monstrosity as Rogan, in an instant, tossed his bow aside, unstrapped his axe and leaped forward, welcoming the challenge from the demon. They battled for hours; sparks flew as talons rushed and met the beautiful axe Rogan so skillfully swung with his powerful arms. Time and again, Koth lunged forward and clawed deep into the beast's legs. The ground began to grow slippery with blood, and although he knew his vision was dim, he fought on. Claws flashed before Rogan's eyes, and suddenly there was a terrible burning sensation in his knees. He barely had time to recover before the claws again flashed in his vision, and he fell to the ground; his breath became shallow, as his chest was ripped open. The creature had delivered a terrible blow.

    As the demon moved to drive his talons through Rogan's chest, Koth leaped into the air to stop it from killing his friend and master. The talons did not reach Rogan, and as they pierced through the wolf's heart, he let out a great howl. Not of pain, but of joy and pride and faith in his master. Koth knew that this battle would be won, and sacrificed himself for his master. His pride in Rogan was carried out through his howl, stunning and crushing the great beast.

    When Rogan awoke, there was no pain. His axe lay nearby, and everything was covered in a quiet coat of crimson blood. The creature lay dead a few feet in front of him, and Koth's body was nowhere to be seen, save two of his greatest claws from each of his forelegs. The claws were the same hue as Koth's paws: One obsidian, the other pearly white. Koth, however, was nowhere to be found.

    It is said that Koth returns whenever the Chieftain or the Clan itself is in great peril, and aids the warriors as much he can on the battlefield, and then disappears again. The legend says, children, that the two swords, Kamanatuq and Ma'heono, or Honor and Spirit, are Koth's claws._

    All the children, sitting up straight and wide-eyed, staring at the old woman began to ask their usual slew of questions, exciting and craving more.

    "What happened to Rogan?"
    "Did Koth come back?"
    "Where are the swords now?"

    She merely smiled kindly at them and chuckled quietly to herself, happy to see such energetic children in her old age.

    "Those questions, my children, will be answered another night."**