A Matter of Honor

[thanuk]

Thanuk charged at the mighty barbazu demon with reckless abandon. Blood ran freely from his wounds, as he slammed his shield into the chest of the ferocious beast. He chuckled to himself, as he saw the caravan of mages and priests shuffle in timidly behind him, not wishing to get too close to the beast itself. The two rangers, Sylvos and Twyl, rushed to the front of the battle, leaping into the fray with swords flashing. The mages stood content, a safe distance from the reach of the mighty demon.

As Sylvos removed his blade from the corpse of the barbazu, the group stared up at the monolith which they sought. None knew for sure if they had reached it in time. At that moment, an ancient mage revealed himself, almost appearing from thin air.

Elminster stood before the group, and an interesting group it was. Headed by Jalahon, the apprentice of Halaster, there were many in its ranks, including the rangers Twyl and Sylvos, Lazus the high priest, the outcast elf Deshana, the drow assassin Nilan, his wife, Elisten, and his duergar friend Artikerus(much to the dismay of Thanuk), along with the rogue Nitania, Tida the enchantress, and the mighty shaman, Bilraex.

Elminster spoke warm greetings, and all showed him great respect. All, except for Thanuk. Always distrustful of magic, Thanuk wondered just why the mighty Elminster needed rescuing from Myth Drannor, when he could move about so freely with his magics. He questioned the great mage, but those who would do battle with Thanuk only quieted him. "Leave the thinking to us" "Rest your brain barbarian, don't hurt yourself!" were the words that echoed in his mind. Cruel words from men who, only hours before, had their very lives saved by the barbarian, who rescued them all from the grips of demons and phaerimms throughout their adventures into the fallen keep of Myth Drannor.

Thanuk kept silent, but his rage boiled within him. A voice continually spoke into the back of his mind. The prophecy of the monolith spoke of a traitor, a serpent in the grass...Thanuk glanced around him, and saw nothing but snakes. There was the duergar, who blatantly attacked him and his men, and yet the other fools would protect him. There was the drow who spoke in riddles, who knew much but released little..and these fools beleived every word from his mouth! The outcast elf, well, if her own people did not trust her, then perhaps she doesn't deserve to be trusted at all. Thanuk knew the value of trust in battle;when he looked around him, there were only two who stood there whom he believed he could trust...Twyl, and Jalahon.

The voice in his mind seemed to read these thoughts, and feed upon them. Thanuk knew on a very conscious level that the voice was unmistakably the ring, trying to corrupt him, as he had watch it do to so many others. But he also knew this was no spell;these were thoughts all his own.

After much was discussed and nothing was resolved, the group ventured back outside of Myth Drannor to safety. Thanuk decided that this was the time, while his service in battle was still fresh in their minds. He stood before the group and spoke, interrupting the drow "We have done your chores, and I have battled bravely for you. It is time my services are repaid. My sworn enemy, and the oppressor of my people, Kralgar Bonespur, still sits upon his throne. I will need your help to defeat him. Your honor binds you, you must aide me in my cause."

After a few strange looks, the group went back to their earlier discussion, of the ressurection of some remains the drow carried with him. Supposedly the body of a dead child, captured by the shadow...Thanuk was growing quite tired with the mind games of this drow. The voice continued to prod him. "How dare they make you fight alongside your enemy, a pathetic duergar dwarf! How they mock you! Good enough to slay their enemies, but your words have no value!" The voice bantered on and on in his head. The barbarian found that, by and large, he was agreeing with the voice.

Enough was enough. The barbarian could take no more, as he heard the drow begin answering questions with riddles. Enraged, he slapped the drow, silencing him. "Enough of your riddles! Speak what you know, drow, I grow weary of your games!" His wife rushed to his aide, and Deshana glared angrily at the barbarian, all of which was expected. What he did not expect, was the voice of the elven ranger in his ear, who spoke "Do not do that again." Thanuk glared at Twyl, confused and angered. Another snake in the grass.

Thanuk decided then that he could no longer bear the heavy load of these men. Their bodies were frail and weak, they held no honor! They would stand against him, the man who saved their very lives not moments before, to protect a lying, theiving drow! It was decided then. Thanuk could not stand with men who had no honor. And after glancing around the room, he chuckled inwardly. Yes, this is the way it must be. They are weak, they can hardly defend themselves! He could not bear to carry their load with him any longer. No, they would indeed be his downfall.

Enraged, he spat upon the ground and walked away from the group of adventurers. It was for the best. They were weak...they would all fall to the shadow, and they would bring Thanuk with them. He did not need their help; it was they who needed him. All but the mage, Jalahon. Jalahon proved himself strong, and promised to uphold the code of honor, he said he would aide Thanuk in destroying his enemies. He was the only one who could be trusted. The others had sealed their own fate. They stood with the drow, with the duergar. They may well have stood against him directly. The ring continued to talk to Thanuk in his mind, but he ignored it. He needed not the council of a demon fool enough to be trapped inside a ring. They had ignored their bond, and Thanuk cared nothing for men without honor.

The barbarian began his trek northward, to the icy spine of the world. He would kill Kralgar alone, if he must. A sudden wave of freedom washed over him as he came to realize: the endless diplomacy, the riddles of the drow, the weakness of the druid, the injustices brought upon him by the other bearers of the rings would haunt him no more. He carried no load but his own now, and sought no man's opinion nor approval for his actions. The beast freed himself from his cage that day, and all who stood against him would know his wrath, including the shadow itself.

[Tasan]

The forest to his back was far too quiet for all to be right. Moments before, the eight segmented shadow had passed, but in his mind he knew their was more to this feeling. Watching and observing the events unfolding before him, Twyl became uneasy. A growing sense of underlying danger seemed to hang on the words of his companions, and yet they sought the counsel of a man who by all means had just tricked them into entering the ruins. Twyl knew the hard lessons of trusting in others, and too often the truth was, he could not. The words of the mage fell onto the willing ears of the host, and none questioned his motives or reasoning. The vessel and the souls were discussed, and again no one seemed to see what was so plain to the quiet ranger.

"Does no one else see the similarities here? Elisten and Deshana stand before us, and the two lost souls... also female. How do we know we are not being pushed towards bringing the shadow to life? To what end do you advise us, old man?" He looked imploringly at Elminster.

Elminster was silent for some time, and Twyl became disgusted with the easily corrupted minds around him. Sensing a growing impatience in the Barbarian to his left, Twyl turned his attention to the ever fiery battle between Thanuk and the dwellers of the Underdark. His eyes burned fiercely as he looked from the Duergar to the Drow and back again.

All at once, Thanuk stepped forward and shouted at Nilan. "Enough of your masks and lies, speak plainly now or..." With this he slapped Nilan quickly. The entire host seemed to suck in their breath, and Nilan's eyes flashed coldly. Having already been in a state of anxiety, the sudden attack pushed Twyl over the edge. He took a step forward, between his sworn brother and the Barbarian who he'd at one point called his best friend. He spoke tersely, "Do not do that again," and even as he said the words, it pained him. To be caught between the forces of the rings was as a vice. To see all mortals fighting eachother instead of the growing threat... He could see the end, and to allow hostilities within the host now, the resolve would be destroyed.

Thanuk stood back and spit at the ranger's feet, punctuating the gesture with a last comment, "So that's how it is?". Thanuk turned his back and stormed away.

The group more or less dismissed the Barbarian, and went about their discussion. Twyl watched the Barbarian drift down the dirt pathway, and into the lengthening shadows of the evening. He knew the card he'd played, and didn't expect he'd ever see Thanuk on good terms again. Completely frustrated by his lack of options, and by the seemingly endless circles the rest of the host were going in, he faded back into the shadows of the trees, and faded into shadow.

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Several days later, he sought the welcome sight of the Outcast's chosen home. He quickly ascended to her usual perch, only to find the rogue and another elf there with her. Upon seeing Twyl, the elf, Drathlaen, seemed to become overly hasty, and made a quick exit. Twyl, being plenty used to that sort of response let him leave without much ado. Nilan said his goodbyes to Deshana, and also exited the tree.

She lay back upon her bed, and beckoned Twyl to sit with her and explain his sudden appearance. The cold grip of his darker feelings rose up into his throat, and he could find no words to express his grief over the activities near Myth Drannor. Deshana sat for some time, prodding and probing Twyl's many defensive walls. Questions flew from her, and she rose to smooth away the blackened locks framing the Shifter's face. Twyl pushed her away, and finding no way to explain his overall sense of dishonor, he fled once more to the shadows of the trees.

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Twyl's heart pounded in his chest as he swiftly moved across the plains and fields of the heartlands, making his way towards an old friend's abode. The blood in his veins started to feel acidic, and darkness overtook his mind.

Several birds in the area took to the air when his footsteps became too close for comfort, and they watched as the ranger fell to his knees. Drawing a long scimitar from it's scabbard, he thrust it into the ground in front of him, burying it deeply. He bent his head low, and a droning chant echoed forth from his lungs. The chant grew in power, and the scimitar began to glow. Circling overhead, the birds watched as the ranger finished his chanting with a final word of power, and retrieved the blade from the ground. Forcing the scimitar to the air, a single bolt of energy leapt from the clouds above, and enshrouded Twyl in a deep maroon aura. Twyl began to run again, directly towards the hills of Grey Cloak.

The curious flock of birds followed the creature as he crossed into the forests, and seemingly went mad. The scimitar flashed and groans and howls floated up on the air currents to the ears of the avians overhead. Bodies of animals of all sorts lie in the wake of the ranger, most hacked to indeterminate scraps of flesh and visceral material. The swath cut through the forest extended for several miles, and didn't stop at the High Moors on the edge of the hills.

Upon a bridge in the center of the Moors, Twyl had been waylaid, but not for long. The flock drifts down closer to the scene, and the fresh smell of blood and seared flesh wafts through the area. Lizardmen bodyparts litter the moors, and the bridge especially. Nothing moves or seems alive in this place, and the fetid stench of death seems magnified past all possible levels.

Twyl is no where to be seen, and has already faded into the sunset as the flock turns south to head for a nice place for the night.

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Perhaps a day passes before Twyl awakens in the tower of the lich. Kern watches over his body, torn and twisted as it was when it reached his gates. Kern cares not for the life of the ranger, but he knows that Twyl has proven to be useful in the past, and there are few beings a lich can count on.

Somewhat healed, though still very weary, Twyl listens to the tale of his arrival at the tower, and though Kern speaks plainly, the words do not register in the Shifter's mind. He cannot remember anything from the past week.

Knowing this, he leaves the tower in haste, hoping to reach Ten Towns within a fortnight. Something tugs at his heart, and he needs his friend.



Twinshadow