"The End"...all stories come to a close
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_It was to be my Legend.
Three decades ago my feet brought me to this land. At the time I was a shadow of what I am now. I was a man with no purpose, no real life, just a body with an empty soul that had wore masks for far too long. I had just gotten done with my servitude to the Elven Court and had set out to find myself. It was there, in my early years in Narfell, I found my calling to become a bard; it was there that I found love, found happiness, found courage and purpose. It was there that I decide my fate…that I would not simply tell the legends of men from far off lands, fighting great beasts and exploring dangerous places of fame. I would be those men…
And this was to be my Legend.
**"The End"
It started off simple enough, as crazy as that may sound. Which, I can understand that thought…what rational person considers going to do what we went to do.
Grag had sent word; he had something in mind that he wished to attempt to try. I had my guesses, it’s not like this was the first time Grag had sent such a message: duergar, giants, the Cold Caves, hell the Lost City before the time of the gods be damned crystals. However when I showed up I realized that this time, it was far more insane.
He wanted to go the Warrens. Well no, that’s not entirely correct; he wanted to go to the bottom of the Warrens, the place that scholars and adventurers alike have claimed to be the single most dangerous land in all of Narfell. It was the unclaimable, the unattainable, in a sense; it was the ultimate pipe dream of every adventurer. I knew it was suicidal, I knew it was nearly impossible, I knew it was foolish…how could I say no?
We had a party that would strike fear into almost any foe in the land, or would if they were smart enough to think about it.
Grag and Kara, two of the greatest warriors the Nars Pass has, and likely will ever, seen.
Nico Black and Nicahh, two of questionable heart but far from questionable skill, whose blades bite in like the strike of an asp.
Sy’wyn, the elf whose silence and poise radiates the depths of his power.
And Hedia, but oh of her…I shall speak later.
And then of course there was myself, your humble but suicidal blue bard. And so we set out, seven would be heroes on a path to immortality in the stories of this land. We made our march, heading south through the barbaric town of Norwick where I first laid my hand when this all began thirty years before, straight into the Rawlins. The entrance to the Warrens was hardly hidden, known and seen by hundreds of adventures over the years…taunting them with its claims of fame and promises of death.
We entered through the door, making our way straight. The top floor was dangerous, no real question there but it was the bottom we truly would have to be cautious. Around the first corners they waited as I taunted a few, causing them to pull the block off their gate and come for us. Quickly the few of feeble mind fell as they followed my taunting bardic frame back around to the mass of blades that awaited them. Me and Nicahh went to snatch some arrows to light their hides with later but Hedia scooped some up. I questioned her about it, asked for them, but she said she wanted to use them. I didn’t really question it to much…she almost never used her bow…but this wasn’t the time. I now regret I didn’t give it more thought. But now, with the gate open, the charge began.
Into their halls we moved, the axe of Grag and sword of Kara swinging with righteous fury as arrows flew all about. They’re strongest warriors were present: Blackguards whose axes would sheer stone itself with the dark blessings of their god, Archers whose arrows would raise the hair of your skin before searing it completely from the bone, and divine casters that could send down pillars of flame and fury. Into these foes we smashed like the waves crashing against a cliff side. As minutes pass and the fight subsides, we stood in the first room victorious awash a mass of bodies, fur, and blood.
We slowly made our way through the rest of the top, killing them one by one with our eyes fully pointed forward. A large door of fine wood blocked us from the last room but a keg would see that that would not stop us for long. As the blast rumbled the sedimentary foundation of the hollowed out cavern the next battle began. Kara bravely ran forward, shield up before her, taking the bunt as a dozen archers took aim and tried to pass her defenses. Kelemvor must have been with her at that point, for every twenty arrows that came her way perhaps one would pass through to bring a slight wince of pain…sadly however, it would be many of us that would be with the Lord of the Dead soon instead of the other way around.
With Kara drawing fire I sped up the feet of Grag as he charged forward, axe high, cries to Tyr bellowing forth from his lungs, hacking into the Bugbears. Nico and Nicahh picked their spots, slowly taking out the archers while the rest of us supported where it was needed. However the rumble and squeech of metal against stone turned all our heads as a taste of what was to come came forward like a flash. Spewing forth its putrid gas, the War Machine locked its gaze upon me and came at me with a programmed Vengence.
Now…at this point I had a simple choice. Stand and try to hold off the great beast with my might rapier and dagger, or act like a bard.
So off I ran, down the hall, screaming every obscenity found in the common tongue and quite a few that would make some dwarves and elves blush. It got one good hit on me but it seemed at this point Tymora was having fun watching, and Grag and Kara made it up to hack it down. And suddenly it dawned on us. We were halfway there…half way to becoming legends. We were on a high, the top of the mountain.
Sadly, once you reach the top the only other way is down.
And down we went, into the infamous bottom floor of the Bugbear Warrens. I would tell you of the fateful battles we faced…Hulks enraged in ways that would make a furious badger look like a newborn kitten, Bugbears so fiercesome and in such forces that would likely raise Norwick should they ever have the tactical foresight to sack it, and frightful Elementals charged with the power of the ancient artifacts that had retreated back into hiding under the surface. I will simply say through it all we battled, across the final bridge and through the gates that hide their greatest secrets.
After all the battles, after all the weariness and a days time stuck under the surface away from the light of Lathander, we came to a strange sight. A door of a strange metal and make, so alien and different than anything else we found in this crude yet deadly place. What was beyond it? What secrets would it hold? We did not know, but I had a sense…as bards tend to have you must know…that this was it. It was the last stand; the final obstacle to our status in history.
In reality, it was where my Legend turned into a Horror Story.
Grag and I peaked in to see a horrifying sight. Not one, but two, of those deadly machines from up above. Now many of you may be saying “Why did you not run?” How could we? We had came so far, expended so much, and are an inch from the end…could you honestly turn back? No, I didn’t think so. So of course, we came up with a quick plan. A haste on Grag and Kara, Nico backing them up with his blades, myself and Nicahh to the back with Sy’wyn and Hedia in the back to heal. It was all set, the plan was a go, the door opened.
We were fools.
In the two went as the battles began. It looked okay at first, the fight was nearly even, until one landed a blow on Grag that had him staggered. I looked to Hedia, bidding her to put down her bow and go heal…but another arrow fired out. “Those blasted Lightening Arrows, the same ones she grabbed earlier” I thought, but pushed it aside. She would do her job.
Another few blows rang out, both Grag and Kara taking a pounding with one machine badly broken. Sy’wyn moved up to prepare to heal as I looked to Hedia once more, more forcefully telling her to get up there and do her job. Still, the arrows rang out. What a fool I was…
Sy’wyn attempted to get a spell off, but a Machine’s head turned quickly recognizing the sounds of casting and punched forward, disrupting the elf. Still Hedia fired, still she ignored my screaming protests. I could’ve stabbed her…
But that thought died quickly as I heard a cry from the front, a deep and guttural one from one of my oldest and closest friends in the land. Grag had fell, Sy’wyn was stunned, and that bitch of a coward was still standing back firing safely out of range. I had a choice at that point: Abandon my friends, run, and save my own hide or try what little chance I had to heal my friends and give us a chance.
It wasn’t even a real question. I leapt up through the door, around the now coming to Sy’wyn. I got one spell off, ironically enough from my belt gifted to me in my job as advisor to Grag, that healed him for a second. But no sooner did he begin to stand then the one machine near him crushed his skull, sending bits of gray matter and blood upon us.
I was shocked, horrified, but knew something had to be done. Nico and Kara were badly hurt, but fell one finally. The other turned to them and quickly went upon them. Over Grag’s body I ran, fumbling through my bags searching frantically for my wand. Perhaps I could do something, hurt it somehow, distract it…Anything. I got off to a corner, turned, and aimed just as Nico fell and Sy’wyn was stunned again. My spell went off as Kara’s sword chipped bits off of it, but not before Sy’wyn went down again. I cursed myself as I watched the missiles damage it but not take its attention. There was little else I could do again as I fired once more.
Kara held out a bit longer, but still alone…without healing…gods curse the cowards soul. She finally fell, after giving a courageous battle. I just watched four of my friends fall to these things, I was in the most infamous room in all of Narfell, and I was squaring off with a badly damaged war machine with a simple wand of magic missiles.
I knew at that moment I was going to die. We had went from possible success to utter failure in but a minutes time. But I told myself then that I would die as my friends did…I would die fighting…I would die bravely…and I would die knowing I aided my friends.
It would have been a death I could live with if it had ended that way, but it didn’t.
Down I went, rather quickly I’m sad to say. But not before I saw one final thing. As I laid there, bleeding from every point of my body, ringing stinging through my head, I saw Hedia…cursed Hedia…finally run forward, swing her sword, and with a blow bring the Machine down.
My final sight was watching the woman that cuased the death of every one of my friends, along with myself, get the final blow…the strike of glory. In the end, I watched Hedia Gend attain my Legend.
…
The time after that is still a blur. I remember the fugue. I remember the sweet taste of liquor and the touch of sweet hands. I remember being brought back and drawing something in a daze…something I still have tucked away to marvel over and try to understand. I remember entering into a black place, a place of nothingness, emptiness…
It wasn’t until I found myself wandering the Nar’s, slightly dazed and confused as if in a dream, that my sense fully returned to me. It was then I turned and made my way to Jiyyd and into my house…Bromley’s house. It was an Ironic choice, for I believe that much like the old bard it is time for my retirement. It is time for me to end this foolish dream of legends and stories and admit defeat…It is time for the book of Zyphlin Re’cual to close, and for me to finish it. Perhaps it ends a tragedy instead of a legend…I do not know. All I know, is that I do not have the heart for this life call “adventuring” any longer. May the next generation have more resolve then I and learn from the words I have left behind….**_
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Yeah fantastic story, detailed, concise, and very humourous too.
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stands and applauds
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BRAVO… BRAVO!!!!
Awesome story! Truly an excellent tale of heroic proportions!
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bravo! great tale!
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Indeed, beautiful story. Glad I was there to experience some of it with you.
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Yes we all decided to let the bard tell the tale and thank the gods we did awesome job buddy!
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Well written.
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Very well done Zyph, very well done.
Maya would have been proud
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Well written
Heh, the death of Grag, Kara, Nico, yourself and Sy, is quite epic, and this is written in great bardic spirit and style.
