To My Fellow Harpers! Please view!

[Arilyn Moonblade]

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<font face="'Times New Roman',Arial" size="+1">I am still seeking out the whereabouts of Aleena Paladinstar, at the request of Lord Piergeiron. Through many contacts, I have discerned that a baatezu is responsible for her abduction. I lack the resources to make an excursion to Avernus to search for her. Sadly, I personally fear that she is no longer with us, for it has been far too long now that she has gone missing. I shall continue to search diligently.</font></p>


<font face="'Times New Roman',Arial" size="+1">I used a wand provided to me by Elminster to capture my memory with my latest dealings. The memory of the encounter is spellbound and attached to this message. It will view itself to you shortly. I am confident in the fact that this message is information I believe crucial to our endeavors to put an end to these rings and demons!</font></p>


<font face="'Times New Roman',Arial" size="+1">I will report back soon, as I find out more information.</font></p>


<font face="'Times New Roman',Arial" size="+1">Go forth the path of the Harp and Moon,</font></p>
<font face="'Times New Roman',Arial" size="+1">Arilyn</font>
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The scroll shimmers, fading into a translucent scene before your eyes...

Arilyn quietly picked her steps as she made her way along Thaymount, the secretive meeting place of the zulkirs. Countless months had gone by without a single clue and she hoped finding out Tam's role in this might provide a new lead.

A harsh, chill wind blew through the scout's hair, bringing the realization of the winter's coming to her mind. Soon Nightal would be upon her, and her scouting would have to stay near civilization until The Melting. Lone traveling during this time of the year could have dire consequences.

Placing her fingers into small cracks in the rocks above her, she pulled herself up onto a ledge. As she stood, she was nearly blown off her perch as a gale of wind hit her with savage force. She quickly ducked into a small niche in the side, pulling out a flask and drinking some of the water from within.

She began rubbing her hands together briskly to warm them up, another gale whipping across the mountain. But sometimes the wind carries more than just the coming of winter, and the very faint voices she heard upon the gale told her so.

'here...'

Arilyn grabbed a tiny vial from her pouch, quaffing it to render herself undetectable from any forms of scrying or detection spells. She braced herself as she stood, stepping out of the alcove and walking on the mountain path toward the voices.

'our survival..'

'the rings..'

'here. We must find the other four...'

The Harper traveled another hundred yards along the path, the voices seeming to be right next to her after the most recent gale swept through the area. Where were they coming from?

'I have called this meeting because...'
'relevant that we convince those who possess'

A second later, she found out, as a pebble landed on her head. She looked up, and saw only hazy gray sky.

'I'll be damned,' Arilyn thought to herself. 'They're on an invisible part of the mountain.'

She slowly moved her arms around, feeling where the side of this rock would be. Stealth was critical, for the zulkirs were obviously invisible too. If she touched them, or fell from the rock and made noise, she would be discovered.

'Kern has agreed to aid us in whatever we may need from the Greycloak Hills...'

There! Her hands found a small handhold, and she pulled herself up on a small ledge to her left. It was maybe only six feet above her, but the ingenuity of it served the zulkir's purpose.

'The rings aren't what they seem. I have yet to figure this out. I can assure the rest of you that if the rings were to come into our ownership, we could succeed where our previous plans have failed.'

'Tam, why should we believe this? You yourself just said that you have yet to figure out the nature of the rings.'

Arilyn quickly ducked back down the ledge, stepping a few feet away to silently cast a detect invisibility spell upon herself. She proceeded back to the transparent ledge, quickly lifting herself back onto it. The conversation between Szass Tam, the zulkir of Necromancy, and Aznar Thrul, the zulkir of Evocation, hadn't changed.

'So let me get this straight. You think the rings hold the power to release demons? You already showed us once how well you fail at harnessing their power,' Thrul continued.

Tam glared at him, and said nothing.

'Let's not have this degrade itself into a contest of words,' Yaphyll coolly said, her hair whipping through the wind. 'This meeting is important, otherwise Lord Tam wouldn't have called it.'

'Your words of wisdom ring true once again, young zulkir of Divination,' Tam replied.

'Now that everyone is here, let me begin again,' Tam continued, motioning to Lauzoril, the zulkir of Enchantment who was always customarily late.

'From my research, I have discovered the origin of these rings,' the lich began.

Where one would normally take a deep breath before telling a long story, the lich merely paused a moment before going on.

'Thousands of years ago, before the first floating Netherese cities took to the sky, a small renegade band of demon assassins roamed the land east of the Netherese Empire. The demons were allies of Orcus, and their bloodlust ran so deep it bordered on insanity.'

The lich brushed a small bit of dust from his robes, and looked around his gathering to be sure the other seven zulkirs were attentive.

'None of the Netherese wizards dared try to confront these demons, for one alone was quite a threat. One finally stepped forth, claiming to have the knowledge in how to defeat them. His name was Welkanezus, a sage who ironically predicted that a future descendant of his would challenge the gods.'

The seven looked at Tam curiously, but knowing instantly he referred to Karsus, the one who brought down all of Netheril.

'The sage gathered hundreds of troops, and several other archmages, and hunted down the demons. It took months for them to catch each one alone and quickly take it down, but it was done.'

'After they had trapped the demons, Welkanezus called upon his friend Gedhennic, a fire giant. The devout follower of Kossuth had a forge hidden away in the Abyss, which he used to repair weapons after battling monsters there.'

The lich paused to regard the others, seeing if they were still listening, then continued.

'The demons' bodies were cast into the forge, while still alive. Welkanezus cast a spell upon the forge to prevent their souls from leaving it. After the bodies were completely consumed, Gedhennic removed the molten goo from the forge, pouring a bit into circular molds.

'As they began to cool, Welkanezus cast a spell upon each one, binding a soul to the metal, and the runes upon each ring binded them to exist there forever. After all twelve were sealed, Welkanezus took the rings and randomly placed them throughout the realms, so that the demons would never be reunited again.'

'Years later, both Gedhennic and Welkanezus both were slain during an epic battle on Avernus. They had sworn themselves to the destruction of all tanar'ri and baatezu, and had such made that journey. Unfortunately, the sage never left any notes as to how the rings could be destroyed. To this day, most sages recognize his work as slightly insane, for he could've simply banished the demons and have been done with it. It seemed as though he wanted to torture them for eternity instead.'

The zulkir of conjuration stifled a yawn and smashed an ant with his boot.

'Keep your opinion to yourself until he's done Nevron,' another female's voice chided, that of the zulkir of Abjuration.

'As you wish, Lallara Ass-Kisser,' he sarcastically said with a bow, grabbing his nose with his hand and twisting it to and fro.

'Silence! Both of you! Interrupt me again and it will be the last time you speak!'

Both zulkirs quickly regained straight faces, knowing that the lich never made idle threats.

'That was how the story was told in the book, in condensed form. But here's what is going on now,' the lich resumed.

'Shortly before the first ring was discovered, two nobles were kidnapped. Aleena Paladinstar, and Traeshana Rilynt'Tar. Both are daughters of lords, the former being of Waterdeep of course, and the latter being of a surface forestal drow settlement called Dobluth Kyor.'

'No one has been able to find them, or any trace of them. It was as if they simply vanished into thin air.'

The lich paused and cast a quick spell to calm the wind around them. Arilyn panicked, for the wind was no longer her advantage in keeping stealth. She would have to stay still until they were gone.

'The first ring was discovered in the plains of Jotunheim, by some gray dwarf. Greed got the best of him and he bartered it away. Somehow, the surface dwarf Thadrin got his hands upon it, most likely from battling something in the Underdark.'

'I spoke with an elder snow elf in the Tarsellian Forest about Thadrin's whereabouts. The dwarf is on the verge of insanity, and has himself thoroughly convinced that the soul of his dead wife is in the ring.'

'The second ring was found by another dwarf, carried by a drow warrior. This dwarf proclaims himself the leader of Impiltur's Shadows, some offshoot band of the Lords of Imphras. He appears to have sunken into a pit of self-pity, wallowing in drunkenness and never daring to adventure again. He hails by the name of Dornax, if you come across him.'

'The third was recovered by a drow, who paid a visit to a troll warren called Ghore to practice some fire spells. Her name was Zoldren, and she passed her ring onto a drow lich named Todrael. That ring soon found its hands into the drow who now hunts me, Nilan. He is the fool who married a surface elf, and will end up some day dying while trying to single-handedly assassinate the Queen of Leuthilspar.'

Smirks and grins arose from the other zulkirs, knowing full well the folly of this.

'The fourth ring was recovered from a mind flayer after they botched an attempt to conquer Mithril Hall from the mines. It was held by the elven druid Lokar, but quickly changed hands to one of his brethren, the ally of Nilan. She is known as Deshana, and probably the most susceptible for mind games if we were to choose to play them.'

Druxus Rhym, the zulkir of Transmutation, grinned and seemed to be suddenly plotting something in his mind.

'The fifth ring was given to the ranger Adriorn by myself. My reasons behind this are not to be questioned, but you will soon see the reason why. This goes for the sixth ring as well, the one that belongs to the gray dwarf Dosarilog. Let's just say I can see everything they're doing now,' the lich said with a grin.

'The seventh was procured by a slightly demented barbarian from Griffon's Nest named Thanuk. He has a personal vendetta with Kralgar Bonesnapper, and I might be paying the leader a visit to inform him of Thanuk's whereabouts. The ring was found within the vortex of the Undermountain, but I'm still unsure on how they ended up there.'

'The eighth, recently obtained from the Faceless One, belongs to Jaznolg. He is a drow invoker who fancies himself the "Destroyer of Worlds". He believes he can use his ring to destroy a world, possibly ours. Sadly I think the fool is a bit off his rocker, and doesn't realize the rings are powerless when alone.'

'I believe that is what I have for you now. Do any of you have any questions about your responsibilities? I'm sure I've conveyed my intentions to you, and I leave it to you to come up with your own plans to procure the rings. Let us not compete amongst ourselves though.'

It was Mythrellaa's turn to speak. Always the quiet one, she surprisingly had a lot of questions for the lich.

'What properties to these rings have?'

'Apparently, these rings give off shadows when the owner is near something the ring either likes or dislikes. I'm not sure which. A manifestation of Mask appeared not too long ago as well, informing a party of the Vile One's intention to destroy him. It seems as though the Lord of Shadows and the shadows of the ring are related to one another somehow.'

She smiled sadistically, knowing how important of a role the shadows played in her spells, being the zulkir of Illusion. Satisfied with his answer, she asked another question.

'What is each ring capable of alone?'

'Alone, each ring can fully devour one's sanity, making them paranoid and delusional. The owners themselves don't realize they are at great personal risk in even carrying them, let alone wearing them. This is evident in Thadrin, as I told you of his mental status earlier.'

'What of the Cyrite Chosen? What role does he play in all of this?'

'Aldric loathes me, and knows via Cyric what my intentions are. Fortunately for us, he is bound to Cyric's will and can only say what Cyric wishes him to say. Something isn't right about him though. Normally Cyric wants nothing to do with the undead, let alone a vampire. I'm sure Cyric will unveil his intentions before it is all through.'

She nodded, her curiosity appearing to be sated.

'What of the two daughters?,' Lauzoril quipped.

'No one knows where they are. But I believe their disappearances are directly related to the rings coming back into the Realms,' the lich responded, the look upon his face evident he was displeased with Lauzoril's impatience.

'Lallara, you had a question before we started. Go ahead.'

'What of the sage? I heard that he was the only one who could conduct the ritual to destroy the rings.'

'You are correct. A group of drow and their hired mercenaries just yesterday used brute force and stormed the Bronze Citadel, locating the sage's remains. They must soon travel to the old man who lives on Thunderhead Peak so that they might resurrect him.'

Lallara cringed. 'Wouldn't this be bad?'

'Yes, someone must get the remains of the sage away from them. For all we know, they could kill him. The sage must be with us when we claim all twelve rings so that we can channel their combined power into our bodies.'

'I'll see what I can do,' she merely replied.

The lich nodded at her, then continued along the same subject.

'All of you must do whatever it takes to procure the rings that we know exist. I will deal with the four that have yet to be found.'

Arilyn suddenly felt a huge cramp building up in her legs from crouching after the wind died down, ready to spring from the small ledge and run at a moment's notice. She slowly took a deep breath, trying to will the pain away.

'If there are no other questions, then I will call this meeting adjourned,' the lich continued. 'If you happen across any of the rings, let me know immediately.'

The other seven zulkirs stood, waiting for the lich's signal of adjournment.

'Paint the lands red,' Tam said.

'And scorch the ones that wash it clean.' the seven replied in unison.

Arilyn gasped silently, biting her lip to keep from screaming in pain, praying the Red Wizards leave soon.

One by one, each wizard cast their spells, and returned to their towers. Mythrellaa, the last one remaining, cocked an eyebrow and looked around.

'Didn't say a word about the necromancer who holds the artifact of Myrkul, though. Wonder what else he's hiding.' She smirked, and looked directly at where Arilyn crouched.

'Show yourself, Harper. Your spells cannot block everything. I know when my surroundings are not right.'

In one swift movement, Arilyn sprung from her position, flying out and hitting the zulkir of Illusion with a well-placed kick to the abdomen, rendering her breathless.

The scout leapt up and bolted off the small flat rock, quickly running down the path. She never looked back to see the zulkir of Illusion getting up and casting a spell that turned the rock wall around the bend invisible.

Arilyn met the rock wall, introducing it with her nose, then the rest of her body, before falling to the ground. She quickly rose, blood pouring from her nose and several other scrapes, and turned to see the zulkir next to her.

'How pathetic that you fell to such a simple spell!'

'How pathetic that you fall to my foot!,' Arilyn said through gritted teeth, kicking the zulkir again, sending her off the face of Thaymount. Arilyn wasted no time and quickly ran down the mountain, trying to get far away as quickly as possible.

The zulkir quickly cast a spell and summoned a dimensional rift, falling into it and landing back in her tower.

'You'll pay, you little Harper bitch,' Mythrellaa said as she spat out a tooth. 'Starting with one of your precious pawns of the Grey.'

The illusion fades away...

[This message has been edited by Arilyn Moonblade (edited 12-07-2002).]

[Arilin Nydelahar]

Arilin chuckled, and locked the case made of bone. "Indeed. What else, might I be hiding? Fools." He mused, limping slightly he slowly walked away as a silent dark figure emerged from the shadows to his left, a slender lithe dark skinned form holding a pair of daggers. They exchanged knowing nods, and continued on together into the night.

------------------
Arilin Nydelahar, Keeper of the Hand.


[This message has been edited by Arilin Nydelahar (edited 11-17-2002).]

[Lazus]

Lazus looked up, alarmed at what he had just seen. He knew most of the story of course, but some of it took him by surprise.

"How could he know?" he asked himself. "Which will it be?" He took out his journal, and started recording everything he could about the illusion. Everything that he could remember.

That being done, he grabbed his cloak and headed out of the temple of Lathander in Waterdeep, only briefly stopping by the office of High Radiance Ghentilarra to tell her that he would be out for the rest of the day.

"I must find Deshana and find the others," he said as he ran off to the forests east of Waterdeep.

Lazus Al'Medin
High Morninglord of Lathander

------------------
You are now a member of Mori's Funky Chickens
You shout 'Help! Moritheil is trying to kill me at A Wide Dirt Road!'
Shevarash shouts 'What else is new?'

[Deshana]

Deshana looked up in alarm as Lazus burst into her grove. She didn't wonder how the priest had made it to the elven Island, he was resourceful. "Lazus.. What is it?"

She listened as he rattled off the contents of the illusion and showed her his logbook. When Lazus finally paused for breath she nodded. "Well, at least I'm not -Totally- insane. Tam does want the rings for other purposes." Deshana cracked a weak smile and shivered a bit. "Thank you for telling me.. forewarning gives us time to prepare." Deshana softened a bit and hugged Lazus close. "Lets go tell the others."

Silvery mists formed at her feet, carrying them to the mainland.

[Jenera]

Dranix,

I pen this letter to you to explain to you of my absence. I have been contacted by the necromancer, Arilin Nydelahar. He has called all of us pawns, on the road to destroying the realms by our sheer ignorance. He has asked of me to assist him in finding the rings. He says only he knows how to destroy them and that he is no longer out to resurrect his god. Should I believe him? For if I do, it means going against those I love and have sworn to die protecting. You, my brother, my sister. We would become enemies. But who is right in this endeavour? I must make a choice I do not want to make. I shall explain further when we meet.

Love Always,
Jenera

------------------
Arishae wears a beautiful white cape enshrouded in fairy magic about his body.

Twyl says 'That cloak is just one of the many reasons I'd like to punch Kevin in the face.'

Twyl says 'But then again, I'm a jackass.'

[Shloras111]

Shloras sat by a wonderous fire staring into it, deep in thought. Many of his features were hidden behind the shadows of his cloak. He smoked a long pipe and two obsidian scimitars sat by his side always ready for battle. Blood stained the very tips of them, but for the most part were clean. The fire crackled in the Sylvan glades of Evermeet island the island of the elves. It was deep midnight and Shloras' eyes were drooping.

His thoughts wandered from the days past events. He had read a message by Arilyn, which casted quite a spell upon him. He was fighting a montrous lizard at the time. When the lizard was killed, Shloras found the paper under some leaves. He read it and saw the tale and thought of it everyday. He wondered whether he might come upon one of these "rings". He knew they're importance, yet he feared the rings much. He didn't know if he could withstand the power of them. He had never challenged his will ever before and did not know what it's boundries were.

Shloras reclined in a hump ready for sleep. Thought always made him sleepy. His eyes slowly drooped as he looked at the night stars. He found the constellations of the realms to help him sleep. Slowly he fell into a deep deep sleep, his beautiful scimitar's closed in his fists and his robes. The fire slowly fell down into a dull red glow and died. Soon the crackle fell and all that was left was the sound of the night crickets chirping and the rustle of a night wolf howling. None of this even made Shloras flinch. He slept soundly on that night.

[Sylvos]

"Fool harpers," Sylvos snarled, gazing at the missive and swearing. "They will do the zulkiir's bidding for them, convinced it's in the cause of 'good'. Nobody around seems to believe that the information comes too easily, that sources like Aldric, Craulnober and the Thayvian Zulkiir's cannot be trusted?"

Still muttering angrily, the ranger stalked through the infested forest, sidestepping the occasional vermin. So pre-occupied was he with the contents and portents of the letter, that he failed to notice the cloaking invisibility fade. Howling in glee, the troll guard patrolling the forest leaped to the attack.

Sylvos rolled his eyes in irritation, snapping his father's scimitar out of its sheath and across his body in a blurring slash, feeling the familiar tingle as his father's spirit joined the combat, guiding the blade to slice the beast into bloody tatters. Sylvos paused to eye the 'body', seeing the wounds closing and stuffed the missive into the gaping cavity his attacks had opened. "Have a nice lunch," he murmured, calling upon the plants to carry him to the edge of the forest and back out into the world.

[Nilan]

Nilan looked up into the night sky as he pressed toward the City of Splendors. "I wonder where you are my wife," he muttered silently as he watched the tail end of a shooting star drift out of sight.

Both daggers found their way into his hands as he picked up his pace to get to the major surface city. There he was confident he could get word to Elisten, of the immepending danger. A danger he cursed himself for placing her in.

"So, you are hunting me now eh, Ssazz Tam," Nilan whispered coldly to himself. "So, be it, but I for one will not wait until your band of hunters arrives."

Nilan turned suddenly, the sound of a twig snapping drew his attention ... and his aim. With deadly presicion, Nilan let the dagger fly. A shrill cry split the night air and deer collapsed to the ground, a dagger embedded deep within its throat.

Nilan approached the fallen creature and tore the blade free. Slow he rose to his feet and took in his surroundings.

"I will come for you Tam, it will be my dagger you shall feel, long before your pathetic hunters can take me." Nilan glared coldly. "I'll see you in hell!"

Sprinting, Nilan ran toward Waterdeep to warn his beloved wife of the dangers to come.

[Gantoris]

Later that day...

The tavern in which the meeting was being held in was dank and musty. A perfect place for those that wish to come and go without much notice. There at the back table several figures were huddled around the table, whispering in tones around several tankards of ale.

"Are you sure? We have to be positive this isn't another false lead..." urged one of those at the table.

"My sources were rather reliable, even after the breaking of the Shadows... I am still waiting on the reports to come back." replied a male voice from across the table.

"Well, by all means we must investigate once you learn more..." said a female speaker at the table.

"I hope to hear back in the next few days, the ring shall be found, I swear it."

As the conspiritors all filed out of the tavern one by one, the man at the back of the table walked up to the barkeep and tossed a small purse of coins onto its top.

"Thank'ye Master Rhovanion, anytime you need th'use of my tavern again ye'just need to let me know." said the blubbering barkeep.

The figure walked out of the door, disappearing into the grey of the night air.

[Xisiqomelir]

Xisiqomelir gazed at the pathetic undead figure that was formerly the Lord of Avernus with a feeling of deep satisfaction. The gates of the Bronze Citadel were now smashed asunder, and the remains of the "sage", if that term could ever apply to one of the thrall races, Welkanezus were now safely in the iron grip of the dread Coalition to which it belonged.

On another level of its consciousness, Xisiqomelir casually evaluated the latest piece of information it had received from its visits to the noble houses of Dobluth Kyor. It amused Xisiqomelir that these drow should imagine that their carefully composed exteriors and the innumerable layers of deceit and equivocation in their words were in the least effective against direct intrusion of their minds. The Lord Rilynt'tars mind was entirely occupied with "Ussta ssin'urn dalharil Traeshana". Much as it appreciated their savagery in battle, Xisiqomelir was in perpetual befuddlement as to why the drow took these matters of family so seriously. It wondered if it would start thinking:

---- ----- ----------- ---- ------------ --- ---
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in the event of its receiving news of its spawn's disappearance, and was briefly overcome with an inward mirth.

Laying impractical humour aside, Xisiqomelir wondered exactly how challenging a task reacquiring this missing drowling would prove, and beyond that, what the noble Lord Rilynt'tar would part with to be reunited with his spawn....


[This message has been edited by Xisiqomelir (edited 11-18-2002).]

[Arilin Nydelahar]

The following day...

He peered around, slowly moving his head side to side taking in the sight. Sighing as he dropped to one knee in a fit of coughing, he stared. A large onyx block sat infront of him, he reached down to feel the familiar comfort of the smooth case which he kept the hand in. Muttering he slowly stood and spoke.
"A pawn I will be in your game no more. I forsake you, Myrkul. Whatever is left of you, I forsake." He growled a silent curse and stood back up, and slowly walked out of the temple for one last time.

Shaking his head, Arilin wondered. Had it been only a few months since the first meeting with the assassin? Yes, indeed it was. Many meetings had passed since the first. The assassin, and he had formed a tenative trusting relationship for the moment. Arilin had undergone many changes in the past few months. From the falling of his faith, to him aging and getting more sickly with each passing day as he carried the artifact of Myrkul with him.

Arilin opened one of his many bags, and drew out a stark white bone case. Slowly opening the case he spied the hand which lay still, but radiated magic. The hand seemed fairly nondescript, anyone who might see it might just see a hand, but he knew better. This acursed hand had caused him many pains over the last few months. It was slowly draining his lifeforce the more he carried it, he was for all intents and purposes dying. His only hope was to complete the research for his final spell. "Grand way to begin the day."
He remarked to the inanimate hand as he closed the case and stowed it back away. "Time to begin anew"


------------------
Arilin Nydelahar, Keeper of the Hand.

[This message has been edited by Arilin Nydelahar (edited 11-18-2002).]

[thanuk]

Dust swirled up into a small cloud at the feet of the barbarian, as he crushed the skull of yet another skeleton beneath his huge foot. He cackled to himself in a fit of insane glee as the bones rose again, forming two smaller, weaker foes. As he ceaselessly slay the skeleton army that rose against him, Thanuk gleamed inwardly with pride, as he realized his prowess had returned to him. He balanced the huge gythka in his hands perfectly, as he cut down four and five skeletons with a single swing. "My training is almost complete!" he snarled aloud, receiving little reaction from the mindless creatures before him. As he slammed his face into the undead skull before him, it exploded into a cloud of dust, clogging his eyes, and filling his entire head with a sharp, pulsating pain. Reality faded out around the barbarian, and from the darkness, he saw the vision of much more powerful undead creatures, gathered about a mountain.
-----------------------------------
As the image of a single elf fleeing the mountain dispersed, reality once again faded back into Thanuk's consciousness. Overcome in a fit of rage, the warrior rose to his feet once again. He relinquished the large blade, and in its place he wore a blood-covered shield and a dagger of solid ice. If the skeletons had a means to speak, they would have surely screamed in fear as Thanuk's eyes glazed over, appearing to have taken on a tint of red, behind their Icy blue iris. He screamed in rage, "Demented am I!?! You will learn to fear me!!" He slammed his shield into a skeleton, uttering an arcane phrase to his blade, and a storm of ice rained freezing death upon the army before him, who's ranks were considerably thinned. "Enough of this" he again screamed in rage, and he cut down another rank of skeletons.

Some hours later, The massive outline of the barbarian could be seen roaming the Greycloak Hills. As one grew closer, they would begin to notice quite a tiny creature, barely visible from any distance, walking beside him. The sound of a fiddle rang about the lands as the barbarian and his halfling companion came into view. The warrior charged the Thayan wizard before him, sending him sprawling to the ground. As an elven warrior rushed to the fallen wizard's rescue, the halfling Birile inserted his blade into the elf's throat, and he too fell to the ground, never to rise again. Birile quickly wiped the blood off his dagger, onto the pantleg of the otherwise occupied barbarian. He calmly resumed his fiddling, as though the pause was merely a part of the song he played. A grin of pure evil occupied the face of Thanuk as he buried his dagger into the chest of the fallen wizard. He rose from the fresh corpse, face and mouth covered, dripping with blood, and let out a howl to Malar. "A real savage, this one" Birile muttered to himself, as the barbarian motioned for him to follow. As they slowly circled the lands surrounding the massive bone tower, Thanuk looked down upon his companion and said, "Sing louder, friend Birile! I want the lich aware of our presence. Let him see that I know where his home is, since he is so proud to name mine!" The halfling stopped, and let out a chuckle, half amused at the defiance in the voice of his large friend, and half amused at the obvious insanity belayed in his tone. Birile Mightymouth wiped off the tip of his fiddle, took a deep breath, and broke into a song about a Barbarian and a Halfling who destroyed an entire mercenary company together, as the unusual duo wandered the hills in the dusk, toward the setting sun.

------------------
Thanuk Pantherclaw

[Deshana]

A scream woke her.

Deshana sat bolt upright, letting her cloak fall to the moss that made her bed. She realized dimly that the scream had been her own. Trembling, she drew her long legs up to her chest. Hands grasping for her, attempting to wrest the ring from her.. a womans voice chanting, .. the dream was fading, but still vivid in her mind.. The ring!
Deshana fumbled for the find chain around her neck, finally finding the ring hidden in her long hair. Her nails bit into her palm as she clutched the cold metal in a deathgrip.

Deshana whispered a soft prayer to her goddess, then whispered, "I shall meet you again, Thayan Bitch.. You'll pay for what you did to Elisten... and to me."

She stood gracefully, and began to dress. she would not rest again this night.


-Brightstar

------------------
Cold Fire Frozen Spirit
IcePhoenix.

Thanuk group-says 'btw u all get to tell everyone u popped my cherry now:)'

[Elisten]

Studying her reflection in the mirror, the elf priestess Elisten, knew that she would indeed look lovely this evening. Lovely enough to please her husband Nilan. Tonight was the wedding of her dear friends Jenera and Dranix. The event was sure to be grand!

Turning from the mirror, Elisten smiled shyly to herself. Anticipation at being led to the dance floor by her beloved husband filled her with great joy. They had not shared a dance for so very long.

The priestess grabbed her cloak and headed out into the deepening twilight.

Elisten had planned to be at the Hostel just north of Waterdeep to await her friend Deshana. They had made plans to travel together to the wedding. Up around the bend she could see the lights of the Hostel flickering quietly. Not wanting to be late, Elisten quickened her pace and fairly ignored her surroundings.

Suddenly, the all went black…

… Elisten dreamed she was suffering from some unknown pain. Slowly her dream state left her as she began to realize the pain was quite real. Sitting straight up she panicked for an instant, then forced herself to calm down. She tried to look around her, but it was black as night. Her hands reached out to search for something solid to touch, but nothing was there. “Where am I?” she wondered.

Out of nowhere, she felt extreme pain hit her. She cried out in terror, and to her surprise she heard a harsh laugh.

“Who’s there? Who are you? Why do you torment me so?” Elisten cried. “What do you want with me?”

Another wave of pain washed over her and then words came. “The pain will subside once you tell me the intentions of your drow husband.”

In her pain, it was all the priestess could do to answer. “Intentions? I do not understand. What intentions?” An angry hand flew out from nowhere and slammed across her cheek. Her head reeled from the lash, her eyes watered from the sting.

Again, words came. “I will give you one more chance, priestess. Tell me now; what are the intentions of Nilan?”

Elisten knew what the speaker wanted, the words the harsh voice wanted to hear. She said “You speak of the ring?”

A hot flash of pain crashed over her as her tormenter again unleashed a spell to harm her. “Don’t play with me girl! You know exactly what I speak of. Tell me!”

Mustering all the strength she had left, Elisten laughed. “Fool! Do you think I would betray Nilan in such a way? For this purpose alone, I forbade him speak of his intentions to me. You will get nothing out of me.” Elisten’s voice became fierce, “But know this one thing. Even if I did know the intentions of my husband, I would never tell you!”

Wave upon wave of pain lashed at her from all sides. She screamed in agony, nearly blacking out from the hurt.

The raspy voice nearly screamed. “You show much faith in Nilan. You would have been wise not to do so, Elisten." Then deadly calm, "Be aware, I will find Nilan. When I do, I will deal with him. Severely.”

Barely hanging on to conscious thought, Elisten feared for her husband. She had never been afraid for him before. She feared for his very life.

She bravely baulked one last time, “You can never harm Nilan! Try to do so and you will fail! As sure as the sun will rise in the morning, you will fail.”

One last time the raspy voice spoke. “Who’s the fool now, priestess? You or me?”

As a final painful assault washed over Elisten’s body, leaving her near dead, she dreamed of her husband.

[Gantoris]

Within the swirling mists, a nightmarish disembodied voice reverberated through the veiled confines of the dream.
“Rhovanion… think of the power… think of the glory…”
Unable to banish the voice, the torment of the dream went on. As if seeing through the eyes of an eagle, the rolling plains underneath careened by as a lush forest came into view on the horizon. From the center of the forest, a gigantic tower protruded out of the lush canopy, reaching for the sky. Soon the lush forest fills the entire view and among the trees misty forms in vague humanoid forms wander aimlessly. As if being sucked into the event horizon of a black hole his field of vision is drawn as if across the distance through the gates of the tower, and through solid stone, soil, and wood until the final vision rests on a field of black, and suspended in mid-air a ring of what seems to be made from obsidian. Along the inside of the ring are what seem to be cracks, but they are glowing fragments of metal trapped within from the rings crafting. A fire seems to envelope the ring as it spins on its axis. Then the disembodied voice again echoes through the void, “the power…. the glory…. seek the power…” and then everything is plunged into darkness.

Waking in a cold sweat, Gantoris ripped the sheets off the bed while in the process startling his wife Nitania. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked around his room questioningly.
“Gant? Are you ok?” said Nitania, a dagger appearing in her hand from seemingly nowhere.
Holding his hand up while using the other to steady himself he inclined his head.
“Yes, I’ll be fine… just another bad dream… go back to sleep dear.”
Pulling the covers back up and placing his head back down on the pillow, Gantoris stared up into the inky blackness of the ceiling for the rest of the night unable to sleep.

[delmair]

Upon seeing the vision of the tales as they unfolded, Delmair, chosen of Cyric, raised an eyebrow with intrigue.

His first inquiries were to the druid with which he was most familiar, picking her brain for whatever information he could divulge that could have possibly been omitted or overlooked. Nothing was directly yielded from this exchange... perhaps it will come of use later.

Perhaps he should seek Aldric and inquire with him...

Trusting fully that his lord Cyric had a plan for him regarding the rings themselves,
he entered a meditative trance, meditating on the subject of his diety and how he could help further whatever benefited Cyric and himself...



------------------
Delmair Aamoren

[Gantoris]

"The webs we weave are also those that serve to bind us in
the end." -Gantoris Rhovanion


The small imp gave a devilish grin, rubbing his small hands together in anticipation of it’s reward. His small leathery wings slowly rose and fell as the robed man outside the silvery circle opened a lacquered box containing a small fleshy heart.
“Festimus, I have here your named price… now tell us what you know.” Urged the summoner.
“Yesss o’powerful one… Festimus was there, looking in from the ethereal plane when they recovered it!” hissed the imp. “The laargisst of them took the old remains of the man-thing from the stronghold! O’yess yess they did! Away they took it!”

“Where did they take these remains? Did you learn this much, because you had better know for your sake!” Threatened the summoner, never showing fear is the first rule of summoning demon kin.

“Wakaneeeeezussss, yess…. They take his remains to that old fool up north, there they will learn the seeecrets of the rings!” howled the imp in excitement, hopping up and down wildly.
The onlooker of the summoning stepped forward and spoke for the first time since the imp was summoned. He had been perfectly blended into the shadows, concealed from even the imp’s keen vision. Striding into the light the mans face could be seen by the light given off of the iron braziers around the circle. Rubbing his peppered black beard with his fingers, he slowly reached to nervously tug on his ear. His baritone voice seemed to audibly quaver. “Those that have the remains of the sage, they could use its knowledge for some means other than merely destroying the rings, but perhaps for something far more sinister?”

The small imp’s face took on a devilish quality that went far beyond the red eyes, horns, and needle sharp teeth. He looked at the newcomer with an intense gaze that filled the air with portent. “Why yes, indeed that could very well be true! Perhaps it would be wise to see that the remains of the sage are in the hands of those that would best put the sages knowledge to use…. To either destroy the rings, or put their power to some vile use in the realms! Personally, I would like to see the later rather than the former.” Snarled the imp with a satisfied look on his face. “I see the potential in you man-thing, I can read your aura and I know I’ve seen you before… in fact…”
The imp was cut before he could finish by the newcomer.
“Enough of your rambling imp, we have had enough of your opinions and your mystical soul searching.” Quipped the bemused newcomer. “Answer only the questions asked of you, or our friend here will see you don’t make it back to the abyss in the same condition you left it.”
“Verrry wells man-thing, we are all on borrowed time afterall.” Said the imp with a little bow, then holding out his small clawed hand, “now, my payment?”

The man nodded to the wizard, indicating he was through with his questions. And with a small gesture the wizard floated the lacqured box to the imp inside the circle. Once in reach, the imp threw open the lid of the box and bit down on the pulsating heart, brackish blood gushing from between his needle-like teeth. He gave a slight shudder as he swallowed, and met the bearded mans gaze. Slowly fading away, the imp had a sudden moment of realization and cackled to himself. The only audible thing before the imp was gone were his parting words, “Ahh, Rhovanion… it IS you, just like old timess issn’t it? I knew you would be back in the sservice of our masters again… tell Ssazz that Festimus wishes his lordship good heath, and beware the black elven devil!” and with that the summoning came to an end.

His hands balled into fists, and teeth gritted into a grimace, Gantoris closed his eyes hoping to shut out the past. His nightmares were no longer plaguing just his dreams, but his past was coming back to haunt him daily as well.

[This message has been edited by Gantoris (edited 11-20-2002).]

[Arilin Nydelahar]

Arilin sat in the apartment speaking with a young elf, "And so Erinal, that is the truth." The elf had a look of puzzlement on his face, and shook his head. "That is..alot to take in.. By Sehanine, I find it hard to believe." Arilin eyed the entry way as Gantoris arrived unannounced. "Pardon, master
Nydelahar, and master Elf for my rude interuption" He turned toward the necromancer and spoke softly, "Is it safe to speak infront of the elf?" he inquired. Arilin nodded, and Gantoris began to speak.

"Arilin, I come to you because I know you yourself have battled with your own inner demons as I have in the past," The rogue sighed and continued. "I have recently had a string of nightmares. Each promising power, and showing different areas I have never been to. Strange things are occuring"
Erinal looked worried, turning his head from side to side staring at the pair.

..You cannot hide...

The voice sounded in Arilin's head as he snapped his eyes open.

..Retrieve the remains of the sage, and power will be yoursss..

The voice trailed off.

Arilin screamed, "Fool! Get out of my mind!" and sank back against the wall, brow damp with sweat. Gantoris rushed over placing a hand on the necromancers shoulder to steady him, "Are you alright, what occured just now?" Erinal chanted a soft magical word, and brought forth an elemental mephit to stand guard as the scenes unfolded before him. Arilin shrugged the rogues hand off his shoulder and stood back up. "We are being watched I am afraid" he spoke with cold dead eyes.

"I have something for just the occasion" Gantoris reached into his bag and pulled forth a guady looking trinket he wore on his sleeve. As he touched it, a faint glow encased the room. "We should be free to speak for a moment. Arilin nodded and began, "Someone...thing has invaded my mind.. I heard a voice."Erinal and Gantoris nodded in agreement, and each spoke in turn. "I was...afraid to mention it before but, as did I..by Sehanine.." The elf
shivered as he spoke. "Yes, as did I Arilin. I wond-" As Gantoris spoke, a dark shadow
seemed to melt from the wall and attacked the rogue, the group dispatched the creature
quickly. "What was that!" The elf spoke, and peered around worried.

A loud scream echoed through the streets of Waterdeep just then. "Quick! That's Thanuk, we must hurry!" Gantoris spoke, and ran down the stairs through the streets of waterdeep with the necromancer and elf right behind. A moment later they came upon the barbarian shaking his head. Gantoris asked, "What just occured?" Thanuk shook his head and muttered. "A slight headache no more" The group of four slowly walked towards the house they were in talking as they went.

A figure dressed in red and carrying a sword at his hip rushed out of the room they had just previously been in, upon seeing the barbarian he smirked and grinned. "Ah, Thanuk, so good to see you" the bounty hunter smirked. Gantoris glared, daggers in hand. "What are you doing here bounty hunter? What do you want." Pointing to the Barbarian, "Him." replied the hunter.
Thanuk spat and lauged as Gantoris continued. "You are obviously not dumb man. You have not drawn your blade for you know you would not survive long enough." The hunter smirked again. "Quite the contrary. If I die, A portal will open and flood this pathetic backwater city with armies from Kralgar. You would dare not strike me."

Thanuked roared in laughter. "Kralgar? An army? Wielding what, sticks and stones! What a fool you are. You cannot take me with meager threats fool." The hunter scoffed. "If not you, then I will be taking the druidess with me. Goodday." He smirked, and darted for the door as Thanuk came
crashing in, knocking him to the floor. The hunter quickly rose to his feet and darted away.

The group rushed through the street of silks, dodging shoppers and onlookers as the strange foursome rushed through the streets finally arriving at a small house in the northern area of the city. Lazus, Deshana and a few others stood sitting, prepping for an expidition as the group burst
in. Arilin panted, to catch his breath then spoke. "We attacked a thayan bounty hunter, who mentioned the taking of a druidess. I am glad to see we are not to late" Lazus arched and eyebrow and swore.

"By Lathander, I--" he was stopped mid sentance as a portal opened in the room, and it was flooded with hobgoblins. Thanuk leaped into the fray swinging his large gythka through the room, cutting down the hordes in mighty strokes. Arilin slowly chanted a spell which sucked the mostuire out of the room including the bodies of his foes. More and more of the creatures kept floodng in, followed by scores of shadows and demonspawn. Admist all the madness Glorishan stepped into the room casting
his magic to keep the barbarian warrior alive.

Another figure erupted into the room driving the demonspawn out which were on the brink of overwhelming the fire warriors, Aldric shouted "Go back into your holes fiends!" As long battle occured, and when the dust settled, five were standing, drenched in blood and sweat. A cackling laughter was heard, and slowly faded. The Vampire Knight nodded to the grouping who were recovering from the attack. "It seems the thayans
are making it a point to get this rings." he spoke in a smooth tone.

"They will have to find an easier target than I" Thanuk responded, and grinned. "And why have you come now, just in time Aldric? Coincidence? I think not" Glorishan commented. Aldric shrugged, "I watch the thayans as I watch you. It is no secret of their intent these days. And it looked as if
you needed a hand." Erinal slumped in the corner attempting to understand all he was seeing. Aldric continued. "They will come. They will take the rings."

"They will be delt with as they try and fail Aldric. The thayans will fail." responded Glorishan. The vampire smirked again, "You wish to tell me each of you bearers will defeat them? A zulkir no less? you're fools. It is my time to leave, afterall I was just paying a conjugal visit" The knight almost
seemed to chuckle as he shook his head and left the room.

------------------
Arilin Nydelahar, Keeper of the Hand.

[Kymil Nimesin]

The sun arose brightly, its first rays gleaming brilliantly across Kymil's bronze skin. The gold elf stretched, taking in a deep breath of air with a mighty yawn.

'Good morning Kymil, I assume you slept well.'

Kymil jumped to his feet and had his sword in hand in a heartbeat. He turned and faced the person who had spoken to him, glaring at him in content.

'You've come a long way from your new home, Elaith. Surely you weren't having second thoughts about your moonblade?'

Elaith returned Kymil's glare equally, reaching for his rapier to slice the lips off of Kymil's laughing face.

'If you're going to mock me, then I'll take my information elsewhere,' the moon elf shrugged and began walking off.

Kymil shrugged, grabbing his cloak and attaching it about his neck. What information could the moon elf possibly have that Kymil didn't already know?

Thinking it might be indeed wise to hear the moon elf's words, Kymil quickly changed his mind.

'Alright Craulnober, you have my interest.'

Elaith spun about, smirking. He casually walked back to Kymil, folding his arms over his chest.

'Good. I figured you might want some information in regards to Arilyn's whereabouts.'

Kymil flashed a grin, picking a small berry off a nearby bush, popping into his mouth before saying, 'Any information is appreciated. But why do you bother?'

Elaith shrugged. 'It's mutually benefitting. I need to distract her and the Harpers so that I might procure a few rings. You escaped them, so luring them away from their task at hand would come in handy. It might also give you a chance for revenge.'

'You're a fool for wanting those rings. I read a book once, a very long time ago, in a library in Cormanthor, about those very rings. Somehow that bastard lich Tam got his hands on it,' Kymil replied.

It was Elaith's turn to ask the question. 'Really now? Well, do impart what knowledge you have then, dear Kymil.'

The gold elf never looked up while picking through the bush, gathering a handful of berries as he answered.

'If whatever is in those rings is let out, it has enough spiritual energy to bring a dead god back to life. There's enough dead gods and enough damned dead god cultists to worry about as it is. If any one of them were to get their hands on the rings...'

'We'd have a dead god resurrected and a serious problem on our hands,' Elaith finished the sentence.

'Right. So you see, why should I help you when I know all those rings are going to bring you is trouble?'

'Because you owe me for getting you out of the Harpers' clutches?,' Elaith replied inquisitively.

'I suppose that could motivate me enough,' Kymil said with a resigned sigh.

'Good. I'll be in touch.'

'You know Elaith, it's really too bad you left this wonderful place for that gutter.'

'It wasn't really a choice left up to me, I'm afraid,' Elaith said in a serious tone.

'Indeed. We could've done great things together, you and I.'

'We'll never know. Best of luck in your mission, Kymil.'

'Luck t'you in your endeavors, Craulnober,' the gold elf said, knowing the moon elf would probably end up dying in this latest business venture. Was it really business?

As Elaith walked away, he wondered just how strong of an alliance the two would've had if the moonblade hadn't forsaken him...

[Nitania]

Watching the horrifying fits of fear overcoming her husband night after night, Nitania pretended to sleep whenever Gantoris would wake. She could never let him find out how much she really understood his pain. Always taking any opportunity he had to over dramatize a potentially lethal situation, Gantoris was quite the actor... and had she not known better she would have thought him acting tonight. Something about these nightmares was different. They terrified her as well.

Her secret past was unknown to any but herself and was often the subject of thought for these late, sleepless nights. How could she tell him? There were no words to describe what she had done, and even if there were, she wasn’t sure she would ever want to utter them.

Fear...

It was fear that made her do it in the first place. She couldn't think about that right now. Gantoris needed her. She knew that, but what could she do for him? He refused to mention what this new nightmare was. He refused to speak on much of anything lately. How could she get him to open up to her? Lost in thought, Nitania was scared witless when Gantoris sat bolt upright in bed. Reaching instinctively for one of the daggers she kept hidden beneath her pillow, she was brought out of her pondering with a very rude blast of cold air. Drenched in his own cold sweat, Gantoris flung the now damp blankets away from the bed while at the same time producing a very loud yell.

'Gant? Are you ok?' was all she could manage without a shake in her voice.

Unsteady as he was, he managed to look both calm and completely composed, even with the sweat beading on his face and matting his hair. 'Yes, I'll be fine... just another bad dream... go back to sleep dear.'

He always did try to protect her from anything that could pose a threat. She hoped and prayed to Tymora that he never learned the words that he spoke in his sleep. The same words every night....

As he fumbled to find the correct position for the blankets, Nitania found herself staring at the place where her husband was…

In the dark...

Listening to his breath... feeling horrified at the thought of losing him, his sanity. His sleep had been less than restful for quite a long while now. Being haunted by the past can indeed make for disturbing dreams, but the funny thing is, she knew he was being haunted by the present. Her present? His present?

She knew if her past ever caught up with her she would weep for eternity. Did he know? Did his own wife terrify him? That thought mortified her to the absolute core of her soul. She would die before being the source of his horrible agony.

She was beginning to realize that the price she had agreed to was far, far more than she ever expected to pay.


------------------

[Shloras111]

When Shloras awoke the sun was brightly shining and the air smelled of the ash of the night's previous fire. He threw back his black hood and his long blonde hair fell back. His facial features could be clearly seen in the morning sunlight. He had hazel eyes and a medium sized nose. His hair was long and parted in the center. A small bruise was upon his left cheek from the battle with the lizard.....the battle in which afterwards he saw the vision. His eyebrows were incredibly stern, which gave him a mysterious look to him without his hood upon his face. The lizard lashed out with his large tail and caught him in the face. Shloras eventually killed the beast and saw the vision.

The new day brought aches and pains in his muscles. His mind wandered astray for a time thinking of the dream with the rings. He still sat in the middle of the Sylvan Glades and thought of entering Llywer, an elven town north of him. The day was beautiful. The clouds shown white as snow and the blue sky helped raise Shloras' moral. Shloras that morning seemed all to deep in thought. Those rings intrigued him. They made his mind think of the power. They had the power already over him. He didn't know it and couldn't feel it. Shloras didn't want to find a ring, yet he wanted a ring....... So badly he wanted one. He craved within his very soul a ring of the demons long lost. A sudden rustle sent Shloras out of his very thought. He looked around and saw an elven hunter hiding from him.

" He needs more practice in hiding. Deer could have heard him miles away", thought Shloras with a playful smirk. He stood up and began to walk. He walked for a long time, fighting. Fighting the vile lizards and the disgusting ettercaps in the area. They didn't oppose a challenge, but their evil intent sent him on a killing spree. He became very tired after much death. His pack had become heavy and he wanted to return home.....return to Leuthilspar. Shloras lugged home. He walked to the gates of his home town and cried out "peace". The gates glowed and opened slowly revealing the great city of Leuthilspar. The city seemed to glow with a godly essence in the afternoon sunlight. He walked through the wonderful city and his spirits arose. For he was out of the dankness of the outside. He was home. He came to the center of the city and collapsed. He drank from the large fountain and was immediately relieved of his thirst.

There he sat for much time, until nightfall. He couldn't keep his mind off of the rings. They were always haunting him. Calling out his name in his mind. His very soul was devoured in this rings prowess. He thought that if he were to get a ring, Shloras would not be able to withstand it's power. Shloras didn't know if his will was strong enough to controll a ring. After all, they had demons inside of them. He awoke from his long trance and stood up slowly using his scimitars for leverage. He searched around for the inn and found the receptionist. He fell soundly asleep in the inn of Leuthilspar, his great home with the golden gates.

[This message has been edited by Shloras111 (edited 11-21-2002).]

[Kalthanan]

Deep within the spire, in a room reserved for summoning, the Master of the Tower halted in mid-invocation, startled by the sudden change in a current of magical energy. The quick movement of a withered hand and a well-trained mind served to dispel the demonic entity that was slowly taking form in the warded circle, and a murmured word established a scrying in its place.

After a moment, a long moment, there was a nod. A hungry nod.

"Kalthanan." the name was a whisper, a command. "Attend me, Kalthanan. Now."

Slowly, a figure solidified and detached itself from the shadows. The shape it wore resembled that of a man, but no single detail could be seen of his true form. His skin was cold marble white, and a long cloak flowed like smoke over his limbs. His features were somewhat elven in appearance and if one looked through the curtain of limp, inky black hair, into his eyes; they would see that the left had a milky white iris and the right was not unlike a glittering orb of obsidian.

The one named Kalthanan bowed but made no sound. In his silence all things might be read, all manners of respect to the being before him - to the one who was often called Master of the Tower, Keeper of Souls, the One Who Binds.

"Taste it, Kalthanan." a hungry whisper, tense with anticipation. "Yet more of the rings have been recovered. Can you feel it? They call to me...."

"Will you send more of the demons after them?" the warrior-priest's voice was something more felt than heard: the rumbling growl of a hellhound, the feel of teeth scraping on rusted steel.

"Worthless wretches!" the robed figure spat. "What good are they? I gave them the richness of an arch-magi's soul to feed on and they acted like children at a banquet - dropping their food as soon as there was new game afoot! No. This time you will do it, Kalthanan. Find out what the others are planning. How close they are to realizing my deception. Tell me that. Then we can make our plans."

The One Who Binds tasted the current of magical energy again. And shivered as the anticipation of conquest, like a newly-injected drug, prompted a torrent of maniacal cackling.

"The rings will be mine," he whispered to the empty air as the warrior-priest of Loviatar faded back into the shadows to perform his tasks.

------------------
Kalthanan N'Drithrander, Knight of Darkness

[Jurdex]

Silently the dwarf sat, his mind adrift in places the most hearty of adeventurer dare not travel.

Slowly his eyes crept open, taking in his surroundings and the world moving on around him.

It has been a while the dwarf thought to himself.

Far too long.

Gingerly rising to his feet, Dornax stretched much to the delight of his weary body.

"We have been through so much, these old bones of mine. We have more to handle."

Shortly after obtaining the ring that now weighed so heavily on his mind, Dornax resigned from his position in the Shadows of Imphras. Seclusion was his only option, the dwarf had felt.

Too many stories had been passed around as to the origin and purpose of these rings.

It seems finally after months of waiting and speculation answers were beginning to emerge.

While Dornax was skeptical of the source of the latest revelation, he would not discount its merit on origin alone. He would pick it apart and find out the best course of action to take. With Moradin guiding his way, he had no doubts of this.

The dwarven cleric walked to the far side of his room and muttered a few words and the wall disappeared revealing an exit to a small adjacent room.

Dornax entered and removed the wards from his possessions and slowly strapped the platemail to his body and brought his belt around his waist.

He picked up his hammer made of the purest mithril and it glowed softly with his touch.

Hobgoblins, demons, and shadows be damned.

The glory of Moradin and the might of Clangeddin would make its presence known on any that stood in the path of the dwarf and his goal.

Self-pity?

Nay.

The only pity present in the dwarf's body was that for his enemies.

No matter whom they be.

"It's time." the dwarf said solemnly as he began the familiar journey to the City of Splendors.

Dornax

------------------
The Raven of Wisdom

Est Sularus Oth Mithas
"My Honor is My Life"

[Elisten]

The day was warm; the surrounding forest scented the breeze. The sun’s reflection was brightly mirrored in the dazzling blue lake. It was a lazy afternoon made for dreaming of days gone by.

Lying on her stomach, lazily tracing figures in the warm water with her hand, Elisten was happily entranced, thinking back to the night she met her husband. A deep contented sigh escaped her and a lazy smile perched upon her lips. She was happy.

She rolled over on the warm, deep grass and stared at the clouds. They also were being lazy today. Slowly rolling across the sky as if they had no care in the world. Elisten felt her eyes grow heavy as she slowly drifted off into dreams.

… A deafening, high-pitched ringing arose, seemingly out of nowhere. And then an image flashed. A beautiful ring that seemed to encompass everything. A ring that demanded to be taken. She reached her hand out to grab the ring, but she met only empty air. A sense of loss filled her. And then a voice came. It did not speak directly to her, but seemed to be a whispering in her ear:

Absolute power, yours for the taking…

Power?

Imagine, having a ring that would allow you to control your fate, destiny, and an army...

To control my fate, my destiny? An army?

It could be yours, friend.

All mine. Friend?

… The high-pitched ringing grew louder and then abruptly ended.

With a start, Elisten awoke. Shivering from a chill she looked around, trying to get her bearings. She was still in the little grassy knoll next to the lake. Everything seemed fine. The sun was just beginning its daily descent into the horizon. The air was loosing its golden warmth, but a warm wind still blew. Yes, everything seemed normal, yet…

And then she remembered. Absolute power, yours for the taking…

Her skin tingled with goose bumps that were not caused by cold. Indeed the air was still rather warm. “Such power!” She did not realize she had said it aloud. Images flashed through her mind’s eye as she thought about all the things she could achieve. She sat thinking for several long moments. A rustle in the forest off to her right roused her from her musings.

It could be yours, friend. The words rang through her ears, and she realized the thoughts she had been having. All the blood drained from her face and her skin turned very pale. Horrified by her thoughts, she became determined to not give in, to not allow her will power to be reduced to nothing.

She knew the tale of the twelve rings. She knew it well, for did her husband not have one in possession? Had she not heard all he told her, and indeed all that was told to her by Deshana, and all others that were involved somehow in these events? She did not want to be a ring bearer. No desire to hold onto something that could very well destroy the world.

Then again, maybe she could do good with such a ring. Maybe if she possessed a ring, she could help her husband stop the disasters that approached. Her thoughts flew madly, looking for any kind of reasoning. She found none.

Rising to her feet, Elisten turned towards the well-trodden path that would lead her to the City of Splendors… and possibly some answers.

[Nilan]

Nilan gazed up at the approaching sunlight daring to peek through the trees. “Xsa l'ssussun ulu Lloth,” he cursed. He quickened his pace, intending to reach the forests....and his contact... before the full glare of the accursed sun bathed all in intense bright light.

It had been about ten moons since a raiding party destroyed the Bronze Citadel, slaying all and securing the remains of this damnable sage that so many seemed to wish to possess. Nilan snickered as he casually patted the contents of his magically inchanted pack. The remains were safe...at least for the moment, he thought to himself.

He thought back to his meeting with the mighty warrior Turg. Since the raiding party had returned to the underdark with a most valuable prize, Nilan and his former Crimson Coalition ally had rekindled a necessary friendship. Both he and Turg held a mutual respect for one another's skill and prowess, irregardless of the drow's decision to return to the underdark and his people of Orbdrin D'oloth.

The sudden change of wind pattern brought with it a new scent to the air. Nilan gripped a dagger and cautiously approached the shadowed forest grove. His eyes quickly made out the form of a cloaked figure...his contact. The cloaked figure nodded in his direction and Nilan slowly placed the dagger within a sheathe that hung at his waist. Stepping out of the shadows, Nilan pulled back his hood revealing a long braid of stark white hair contrasting against skin as black as night.

"It's been along time, ranger." The drow nodded in the direction of the figure. The half-elf nodded, in agreement but said nothing. Nilan removed a parchment from his pouch and approached the figure. He stopped only momentarily to review the words he had penned upon the paper....

============================================
Arilyn Moonblade,

I pen this message in the hope that it gets to you. The ranger that delivers it is a friend....and more importantly one of your kind. Please look to the words penned, and not to my heritage or my reputation when considering my request.

You seek to learn the whereabouts of Piergieron's abducted daughter, Aleena Paladinstar...this is no secret. I too have been searching for an abducted daughter my People. My search has lead to the assassination of an insane demon of a man within the Elemental Towers. An assassination i openly and boldly admit. What information I recovered as a result of this assassination may indeed be of use to you in your search for this Paladinstar.

While it is no secret that I despise Lord Piergieron, and have escaped a death sentence imposed upon me at that tyrants hands....I do care greatly for my kinsman. Know that I will do whatever to secure the safety and holdings of the Drow Nation.

Thus, I propose a meeting...you and me...alone, on neutral ground...so that we might discuss dealings most beneficial to both your Lord Piergieron and to my kinsman. The life of this Aleena Paladinstar depends on your action...

May our paths cross soon....before time runs out...

Consider my words and my proposal,

-Nilan Al'Shadraazar
*ShadowStalker - Drow Assassin

============================================

Satisfied that the parchment was in order, Nilan handed it to the ranger. The half-elf bowed. "It shall be delivered, old friend."

Nilan bowed low in the custom of his People. He watched as the ranger disappeared into the forest, then he made his way into the deep darkness of the forest grove.

[Deshana]

Deshana rested her head wearily against the tent walls, her brother sleeping restlessly nearby. She soothed him with hands and voice, til he calmed down and settled into a more restful sleep. Her mind wandered to the events of the past week.

Jenera and Dranixs wedding and the first of the attacks.. a low growling, then a swarm of hobgoblins. Wave apon wave comming for them, and only her brother had been wise enough to bear arms to this occasion... then a yanking sensation, and she was in darkness.. someone struggling with her.. chanting.. Desh pushed the memory aside, shuddering, Eli was put through much worse.. Escapeing she''d found the wedding party defending against demon spawn as well as the hobgoblins.. one grabbed her and.. again she balked.. not wishing to remember. The ring, she learned later.. had returned her to life. How and why, she did not know.

a mere two days later, she had been resting in a fine home in Waterdeep, waiting for her guild to assemble when Gantoris, Thanuk, Erinal and,.. the necromancer, had shown up, demamding to know if she was alright. Immedidiatly following was more waves of hobgoblins. More demonspawn. Aldric, the vampiric knight drove them off.


Again, days later, she was outside the ruins of a once great elven city, Another swarm but no demons. seemingly hundreds of hobgoblins swarmed her, her ranger friend fell as a hobgoblins attack forced her to abort a summoning spell.

After the hobgoblins fell, she learned of a similar attack on Elisten, then the cry for aid rang in her mind. Dornax.
Deshana had rushed to his aid, with Esem and Myrranth along.. again hobgoblins, but with them and army of Shadows, undead creatures. Demons, Dretches, Manes.. and then.. and army of human soldiers. Northerners. wearing the livery of Kralgar the leader of Griffons Nest.
These soldiers did not attack, just watched the battle. Thanuk, Lazus, Nedle, Tasec, Dornax, Esem, Myrranth and herself, finally beat back the demons. Tam, the lich of thay taunted them. Thanuk taunted back.. and fell, his heart stopped cold by evil magic.
the soliders vanished as if never there.

Deshana shuddered at her recollections, running her hand through her brothers hair, and wishing for Lazus's comforting presence...


-Brightstar.

------------------
Cold Fire Frozen Spirit
IcePhoenix.
Elarin tells you 'heh 'with allies like Desh, lets just not zone''
Thanuk group-says 'btw u all get to tell everyone u popped my cherry now:)'

[Jurdex]

I was just being gracious enough to let ye smite some hobgoblins and demons with me!

No dwarf ever needs an elf's help!

At least not in public.

Dornax

------------------
The Raven of Wisdom

Est Sularus Oth Mithas
"My Honor is My Life"

[Lohan]

Though not directly involved in the events, Lohan had heard much about them. He spent many nights pondering the rumors following Moonblade's revelations. Lohan searched for answers in the night sky. But, tonight was unusually cold, dark, and cloudy. He knew he wouldn't sleep well this night.

He wondered to himself: Why, pray tell, would a Lich want to prevent hordes of undead and demons from entering the realms? He had sought guidance in the temple, but received none.

He wondered to himself: Why would anyone want to be possessed by one of the twelve demons? For, even young Lohan knew, "Too much power would corrupt."

Lohan figured the Harpers would be involved given the gravity of the situation. But, he didn't figure that such an esteemed Harper might be bought. For, what else could explain his health?

Ultimately, Lohan was shocked at his own realization: The drow murderer holds the key. Surely, a drow murderer can't be trusted, can he? Would the drow murderer seek to elevate his own people at the expense of the entire realms? More importantly, would this drow, the drow who married a surface elf, seek to do so? No. He would not...because were he to do so, there would be no place left in these realms for his people, nor mine... unless he had made a deal. Would that drow murderer trust anyone with that kind of deal? Nah.

Lohan rolled over... His body growing ever colder with the falling rain. He heard a hoof beat and looked beyond his campsite to assure himself that his trusty steed was okay.

When he drifted off again, he murmered to himself, "If only it were that simple?"

[Arilin Nydelahar]

Mmm, groups.

who ingroup
Listing of the Staff
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
<None>

There are 0 visible staff member(s) on.

Listing of the Mortals!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
[50 Ran] Weylarii - Elders of Netheril (Grey Elf)
[35 Bar] Talsor - Elders of Netheril (Half-Elf) (RP)
[50 Cle] Dornax -Raven of Wisdom- Shadows of Imphras (Dwarf) (RP)
[50 Rog] Nilan ShadowStalker - Velg'larn - Orbdrin D'oloth (Drow Elf) (RP)
[21 Ele] Erinal Ithil'akh'Faern (Grey Elf) (RP)
[47 Nec] Arilin Nydelahar -Vaunted- Elders of Netheril (Human) (RP)
[48 Cle] Elisten -Priestess- Excidium Umbra (Grey Elf) (RP)
[50 Inv] Jaznolg Zra'Taeriz, Destroyer of Worlds (Drow Elf) (RP)
[50 Rog] Nokie Quickfingers, -Locksmith- Elders of Netheril (Halfling) (RP)
[50 War] Gura - Enforcer - Crimson Coalition (Troll)



------------------
Arilin Nydelahar, Keeper of the Hand.
...Knowledge is power, and knowledge of life and death brings power over all beings, living and unliving.

[Nokie]

------------------
Nokie 'No you don't!! That belongs to me!' Quickfingers

[Nilan]

A SPECIAL NIGHT……..


The chill of the night air whistled through the trees, causing Elisten to waken. She shivered suddenly and pulled her fine elven cloak tightly around her body. A soft moan drew her attention to the still form that lay beside her. She smiled and ran her fingers over his shoulder and down his arm. “My husband,” he whispered, “gods how I love you.” The drow moaned silently in the language of his people. Elisten could not make out the words, but she could tell that his sleep this night was restless….haunted. Her smile faded when her gaze fell upon his wrists. Torn and raw from Lord Piergieron’s ropes, already scabs had begun to form. Shuddering, Elisten painfully recalled the past nights encounter. “How ironic it is, my husband, that your people and their allies have shown me only kindness, while mine have shown you…”, she bit back the words and closed her eyes tightly stemming the tears that threatened to flow. Gingerly, she pulled his cloak up over his shaking form. “Rest now, my love.”

The assassin stirred violently, a nameless horror consuming his dreams. Elisten gathered the drow close to her, in an attempt to comfort him. But the dream consumed him. “Nooo!!!, stop…you fools know not what you do… you will destroy all,” Nilan groaned and tossed restlessly.

Elisten placed a strong hand on his chest, and caressed his cheek. “Nilan, love wake up, it’s a dream love, you are safe.”

The assassin moaned as if panic has taken him. Sweat beaded from his brow and his breathing came in ragged gasps. “Nooo!! Take your hand from me, surface dogs…Lloth elgg dos jal, veunn ibilth….Noo!!!”

Elisten shook the drow suddenly. “Nilan , your safe, wake up, it is me.” Nilan screamed suddenly and sat up. His gaze was one of confusion as he tried to take in his surroundings. Panting heavily he focused on the beautiful elf that held his arms. She smiled at him, a tear rolled down her fair cheek. Reaching up with a trembling finger, he smiled and brushed it away.

“I am so sorry, my wife….so sorry you had to witness any of that last evening,” Nilan lowered his gaze. “I do not know what you must think of me.”

Elisten placed her finger under his chin and slowly raised it until his gaze met hers. “Need you even have to ask? I love you, Nilan. I trust you. I would follow you into the very heart of Avernus. You need only ask.”

Nilan took her into his arms, “I know, my love….Gods I know.”

Elisten embraced him tightly. “The remains….you carry the dead daughter of Lord Piergieron….so it is true. Something is not right. I heard the words even if the others did not. Piergieron saw only a drow, a murder, and the others the saw…..” Elisten let those words fade.

Nilan released his warm embrace and gazed into the priestess’s bright eyes. “You understand why I could not relinquish them?”

Elisten smiled, “Your people too have lost a noble daughter. You desire to see the drow child live again, a symbol of your people. To give up the remains, might mean giving up on the drow child’s life…..for both might very well be needed if their essence is to be restored.” Elisten leaned forward and kissed her husbands lips. “Yes, my love…I understand.”

Nilan returned the kiss passionately. For a moment, no one else mattered. Elisten pulled away suddenly a concerned look on her face. “What is it,” the drow asked softly.

“What father, would not desire his daughter revived if it could be done?” Elisten asked looking intently at the drow assassin.

“Piergieron……” Nilan muttered, recalling the Lord’s madness when General Alsup walked the streets hunting what was left of his former guild….the Vermilion Shadow. “Demons….” Nilan mumbled softly, “Elaith, what game are you playing….”

Elisten gathered her husband close and bade him to lay down beside her. “Rest now, we stand together…always my husband.” Nilan kissed her and lay down, her arm draped over his chest. In moments the drow found comfort in his wife’s arms and drifted to sleep.

“Something is not right…….”

==================================

Nilan
ShadowStalker - Drow Assassin
Husband to Elisten, High Priestess of Evermeet

[Jurdex]

Piergeiron never once said he didn't want his daughter raised. Quite the contrary. Still ye twist words, drow.

Dornax

------------------
The Raven of Wisdom

Est Sularus Oth Mithas
"My Honor is My Life"

[Sylvos]

Birdsong sounded faintly through the trees, accompanied by thin shafts of sunlight filtering through the leaves. Nearby, a small brook bubbled merrily, unaware and uncaring of the turmoils engulfing the world. A slender figure crouched nearby, examining a track left in the soft mud. Puzzlement crossed her features at the mark, for it was unmistakably that of an ice bear. The likes had never before been seen in the Tethir forest.

"I thought that might catch your attention," a wry voice commented. The ranger whirled, bow appearing in her hands and tracking toward the voice. Sylvos sat easily in the tree, the hood of his elvish cloak thrown back to reveal his presence. He wiggled his foot at his fellow ranger, displaying the boots crafted from the feet of an ice bear. "I bear a message for you. He'll meet you in honour, I guarantee that." Pulling a rolled scroll from the pouch at his side, Sylvos tossed it down to where Arilyn stood before fading back into the forest. His voice floated out in his wake, "He may be Drow, but he holds more honour than many we walk the surface with. Keep faith, Arilyn Moonblade."

============================================
Arilyn Moonblade,

I pen this message in the hope that it gets to you. The ranger that delivers it is a friend....and more importantly one of your kind. Please look to the words penned, and not to my heritage or my reputation when considering my request.

You seek to learn the whereabouts of Piergieron's abducted daughter, Aleena Paladinstar...this is no secret. I too have been searching for an abducted daughter my People. My search has lead to the assassination of an insane demon of a man within the Elemental Towers. An assassination i openly and boldly admit. What information I recovered as a result of this assassination may indeed be of use to you in your search for this Paladinstar.

While it is no secret that I despise Lord Piergieron, and have escaped a death sentence imposed upon me at that tyrants hands....I do care greatly for my kinsman. Know that I will do whatever to secure the safety and holdings of the Drow Nation.

Thus, I propose a meeting...you and me...alone, on neutral ground...so that we might discuss dealings most beneficial to both your Lord Piergieron and to my kinsman. The life of this Aleena Paladinstar depends on your action...

May our paths cross soon....before time runs out...

Consider my words and my proposal,

-Nilan Al'Shadraazar
*ShadowStalker - Drow Assassin

============================================

EDIT: Added the actual message

[This message has been edited by Sylvos (edited 12-02-2002).]

[Ashiwi]

Ashiwiwilyrienne pushed her fur-lined hood back from her face and loosened the clasps at her throat. Garafor’s home was well heated against the chill settling into Waterdeep’s streets, and her skin prickled in the warmth under the wool and white rabbit of her heavy cloak. She carried her gloves in her hands, indicating her desire for a quick business meeting and no more. Garafor’s parties had not been a staple of her life for several years, and it was her wish now to maintain her distance from the business which Garafor ran under the guise of social festivity.

A low rumble announced Garafor’s arrival as the heavy oaken doors to the east of the foyer swung open, admitting the handsomely dressed ruffian-turned-lord. His smile was as wide and charming as ever, but Ashiwi noted the slow but inevitable creep of silver into the dark waves of his hair. She cocked her head to one side, studying him as he studied her, her grin of reflection growing to match his smile of welcome. He swept up to her abruptly, throwing his arms around her in a massive hug, and she returned the embrace with gusto, suddenly missing the friendship and casual camaraderie she had known with him.

“Darling Ashiwilyrienne, how delightful to have you in my home once again.” Garafor took her arm and led her across the foyer to the smaller door to the north, and introduced her to the small office beyond before closing the heavy oak tightly behind them and returning his gaze to her. “It really is too bad you cannot stay, but I must say I was pleased to receive your message.”

She smiled at him once more. “You must come over for dinner one of these nights, Garafor. I know that Lorgan is anxious to meet you, and I have missed your conversation a great deal.”

He nodded, a weathered and worn look settling into his eyes as his lips retained their pleasant curve. “There is not much time for conversation and pleasantry of late.” He nodded his head towards the door, where the faint strains of music from the distant ballroom came through muffled and dim. “Even the most witless and uninvolved seem to feel this current on the winds …” He paused, as if waiting for her to fill in the pieces of an unfinished puzzle.

In answer she crossed the room to where he leaned against his desk and pressed her sealed message into his fingers. “Please, Garafor, before I change my mind.” Her fingers pulled away from his reluctantly, not yet wanting to release the parchment, but knowing that she had to. “I trust you fully to ensure the safety of this message.” The flickering of his eyes told her that the pain of her decision was written plainly across her for him to read and she nodded again. “I do not doubt that you shall read it, but I ask that you keep this information dear to your heart, for the damage that it could cause if made public might be too much for the fragile bonds of kinsmanship and alliance that we know.

His head moved almost imperceptibly in acceptance of her terms and he quickly tucked the parchment into a pocket inside his dinner jacket, his eyes never leaving hers. “And this dinner invitation, it still stands?”

She smiled at the simplicity and complexity of the man. He had at once given her his assurance of the delivery and notified her that he expected to be able to speak to her of the matter again soon.

“At your soonest convenience, I hope.” She gave him a quick hug and let him show her back out into the cool night air, pulling her hood back up over her unruly curls as she stepped beyond the warmth of his foyer.

Back in her inn room she stripped off her outer garments and hung them up by the door. The fire had already been stoked by the maid and a steaming urn of mulled wine depended over the licking flames, filling the room with its spicy bouquet. She quickly poured herself a cup, donned her slippers, and slipped through the balcony doors to enjoy the crisp air outside while the warmth of her wine crept through her.

As she sipped at her cup she considered the action she had taken today. It had been one of the most difficult decisions she had ever had to make, and she had weighed her fears of regret heavily against the necessity for moving quickly. Perhaps she should have spoken the matter over with Lorgan, but not only was he out of town on an excursion with his caravan, he was also not an elf, and she was not yet sure if she wanted to embroil him in these matters.

She frowned as she thought of Lorgan. The elves were not his people and he would never be welcome among them upon Evermeet. She would not keep anything from him, but she did not wish to involve him in the political machinations of a culture he could never embrace. He would certainly question her actions of today, but she felt sure that he would see she had to do what she felt was right. She had to support the People.

She sighed and took a seat in one of the handcarved chairs they kept on the balcony for when the weather was fine, propping her feet in the seat and drawing her legs up against her for warmth. She dragged her fingers through her hair yet again, replaying the scenarios of the past few days in her mind once more.

She had walked casually into another inn within Waterdeep’s walls for lunch, and taken a seat. The city was abuzz with the news of some hobgoblin horde which had caused a ruckus earlier, but been turned back without causing much damage, and it seemed to be all the talk wherever she passed.

She had taken a seat out of the way and ordered her wine and a bowl of stew when her ears had picked up the strains of a familiar voice, then another, one she called ‘friend’ and one which sent a restrained shudder through her.

Casually she let her eyes wander the room until they lit upon the face of the druidess, Deshana. She sat at a table, sharing an intense conversation with two others, Ashiwi’s dear friend and mentor in trade, Dornax, and another elf, an elf Ashiwi recognized as Elaith Craulnober. Dornax seemed to be maintaining an uncharacteristic silence, a look of consternation flushing his cheeks to a high scarlet while Deshana and Elaith shared words.

Elaith. Ashiwi shook her head and tsked to herself. If ever there was an enigma to the elven people, Elaith would be it. She hoped that he understood that the spittle she had directed at his shoes upon occasion had more to do with the roles they played than any personal animosity she might have held against him. If Elaith was sharing company with the grey elfess and a dwarf, however, it would seem he was learning a new role for a new production, and whatever the dialogue, Ashiwi was sure it would not be up for rave reviews.

Out of curiosity Ashiwi directed her hearing towards the unlikely trio’s table. The three seemed to be dining casually, very much out in the open for all to hear and see, and so much looked wrong about that picture that Ashiwi could not help but feel intrigued.

And then a cold knife slid through her belly, chilling the playfulness from her actions as Deshana spoke:

“I am afraid that I am more of a traitor to my people than even Kymil ever was.”

Ashiwi stilled her breathing and narrowed her focus, keeping her actions nonchalant as she continued to eavesdrop on the conversation. Her mind whirled, desperately searching for any other person she could attach to the name of “Kymil,” any other besides the one she knew Deshana must be referring to. It was incomprehensible to her that any elf could ever make that comparison, and had they been out on the street even Ashiwi, as calm and collected as she liked to believe herself, might have found difficulty in restraining her fists and words. As it was she could see the white showing through her knuckles and she had to will herself to relax and be professional.

Apparently Deshana considered herself sister to Nilan the drow. Nilan, betrothed of Elisten, beloved of the People. The scandal had been immense and many had rushed to take sides over the matter, but Ashiwi had always believed that all deserved their fair chance. The taunts and jeers the drow seemed to live for were not to Ashiwi’s taste, however, so she felt it best to leave the couple to their wedded bliss, happy in each others company, and to remain a supporter from the outside, neither condoning nor condemning their love, but only accepting that love comes in all forms.

What Deshana spoke of, however, could not be compared to a mere tale of tragically fated lovers. The words Deshana spoke so openly were those of treason and treachery. She spoke of an invasion her drow brother planned, and of the assistance she gave him in planning it. She spoke of the destruction of the People as if it were nothing to her but a fond memory she might kiss goodbye. All this from a supposed follower of Elistraee, the benevolent dark-skinned elven goddess of the hunt. Elistraee would not condone treachery against the People, would never give her blessings to a betrayal so like her mother’s betrayal of Corellon.

When she had heard more than she thought she could stomach Ashiwi dropped her coins on the table and made her way to the door, head high. On her way out she felt familiar eyes light on her, and she knew that she had been seen, but the fury which clouded her judgment all but made her turn around to confront the druid.

Over the next several days she had opened her coffers to a number of informants and her wine bottles to a number of “old friends.” She had desperately searched for information which would disprove what she had heard spill from Deshana’s lips, but to her dismay all the information she turned up only supported what she had heard.

She asked herself over and over again how the elfess could expect to become so openly involved in such a plot without expecting intervention. How could another elf give the Tel’Quessir up so readily for the slaughter? How could any of the blood compare themselves to Kymil Nimesin, traitor of Evermeet? And more than that, how could they do so without expecting their brothers and sisters to rally in protection of their home?

She had asked herself these questions and many more in the making of her decision. People she considered friends lay on both sides of the debate over the drow elf, Nilan’s intentions. Elisten’s gentle heart was ever a pleasure to hold company with. Even in reverie that night did the questions plaque her. In the light of the morning, with a heavy heart and reluctant hand, she sat down to write out the message she delivered to Garafor.

Without Garafor’s knowledge, for sometimes even the best of friends could not be the only course of action taken, Ashiwi had penned two other messages with the same content. One would be freighted amongst non-descript goods, the other carried on her person to the island of Evermeet. Within a week’s time the message she gave to Garafor should arrive on Evermeet’s shores, and if through some miracle of misfortune that message should be intercepted, then there would be two others arriving shortly after.

A single white flake of snow floated down out of the linen-white, early winter sky, and landed upon Ashiwi’s arm before quickly melting away to nothingness. She scrubbed at her face and lay her head on her arms, her mulled wine cooling, forgotten, in one hand. In her mind she heard once again the words that she had penned, words she would have never dreamed she would be writing:

My Dearest Queen, greetings from Ashiwilyrienne Blackmane, daughter of Arilyn Autumnmoon, trader of Silverymoon. I fear I bring grave tidings …

[Guest]

Grorrak Krak Smakk wandered through the misty swamps surrounding his home. A foul scent was in the air, the winds blew strangely these days, and a look of deep consternation crossed Grorrak's slimy green brow. Constipation. Indigestion. Terrible gas. These things had begun to plague his life in the past few days, ever since he had first came upon that stinking elvish corpse, and he thought of little else.

'Stomach hurts, hurts bad. Must be bad food. Bad food. Food. He had found a corpse. A tasty rotten elf corpse. Yummy elfs. Tasty corpse. But stomach hurts. Mebbe was bad foods?..'

His stomach hurt, and his head was tired from the difficult problem at hand. It seemed to be without solution, no matter how close his mind drew near. Grorrak was in an abnormally foul mood as he wandered his swamps.

Suddenly, luck shone upon him in full trollish splendor. He came across the decomposing remains of a corpse, already mostly eaten, by a troll looking at the tooth marks. Grorrak pulled a femur out of the sticky mess, sniffing intently. It was filthy rotten, and it seemed to be elf meat. An evil grin of contentment split his toothy maw as he set in to devour the remains. His stomach hurt, perhaps a little elf meat would ease his pains.

[Osheara]

Calamity had struck.

Osheara chanted quickly, silently speaking to Corellon for the speed in her healing.

A guard turned towards her, bashing her to the ground. Her head spun painfully.

“The flame…burning!”

She heard the voice, quiet in her mind, but in pain.

“Erinal?” she whispered softly, the room seeming to silence around her.

A guard fell near her feet, snapping her back to the fight. She clamored to her feet, instantly casting again.

“Out!” She heard Nlariar cry out.

Bodies lay in the cold dirt, but they had to leave them. At least for now. They were too few. They could never defeat the godly band like this.

As the final spell was cast, she quickly retreated, her body aching from the blows. The room of survivors was small. Things were not looking well. She got to work, suing the remaining spells to heal those she could.

Her thoughts went to the voice. It sounded like the Elementalist, but something was wrong, very wrong.

She sat on the cool northern grass, the icicles melting into her robe. She began her prayers, trying to concentrate on the spells. But her mind drifted far from them.

“We need more help.”

She heard the Shaman’s voice, distant.

“We can’t do this with so few.”

Osheara began to pray, her mind whispering to the Father of all Elves.

“Your children are suffering. Help Erinal now. Give him the will the fight whatever this plague is. And please…please do not let him be alone!”

The cleric continued to whisper words to the god. Her soul reached out.

Suddenly another guard came into sight, moving fast and slashing wildly.

‘Not now!’ she thought, her concentration breaking.

He moved from one fighter to the next, his sword catching Osheara’s arm and pushing her to the ground. His sword came down, inflicting her body with pain. She cried out.

The signal for retreat was sounded, and the leader shouted out to recall to the cities. It was too much.

Osheara struggled to her feet, dodging another blow. A simple word was uttered and she closed her eyes from the effort. Her breathing came deep and ragged. She whispered the chants softly, feeling the power of the gods fill her, healing her wounds.

“Please, Corellon, give him the strength…” she whispered, looking around the temple with watered eyes.

------------------
Oshy
Twilight Raven

[This message has been edited by Osheara (edited 12-11-2002).]

[Gantoris]

<I>For nearly a year now, a new age of discovery has swept across the land. Quickly escalating to such a scale in which the realms has never seen before. No longer can we hide ourselves behind a shroud of innocence, letting the world commit its small evils on a daily basis. We now find ourselves at an impasse that can no longer be avoided now that all things we hold dear may be lost. This transcends beyond the moral issues and petty squabbles of good and evil, right and wrong. The issue had hand is now an issue of survival, and without a common ground I fear all will be lost to the shadows.

It was nearly a year ago when the first rumors spread about the lost children, the daughter Paladinstar and the noble daughter of the drow. These seemingly unrelated incidents are now an issue of speculation and their revival is of great import to all factions involved, for their very souls are seemingly keys to a greater mystery unfolding. This new age of discovery has many ancient enemies once more fueling the fires of hatred, but for those few brave souls that have thrown aside these problematic chains of hate they have found no peace from their own people. I fear this lack of understanding and fear of the unknown will be our undoing in the years to come if we continue walking this path of indignation and ignorance. Light save us all, for until we conquer the demons from within, we will never stand a chance against the true evils that seek our destruction.
~Gantoris Rhovanion
</I>

[Elisten]

In reference to: http://www.sojourn3.org/ubb/Forum7/HTML/000221.html

The ruins of the Temple reflected in the cloudy waters of the pool. The wind blew cold through the trees of the forest. The sun hid behind the clouds.

Such a dark day, she thought. Of late, the days had been dark and cold. Not a normal setting for the normally peaceful forest. Even her constant upbeat mood seemed to be in tune with the dismal weather. Ever since that day...

...

"Sister, things are not good. Not good at all!"

"Deshana, of what do you speak? What is not good?"

"It seems your husband is being visited by the spider..."

"And? The spider won't harm my husband. He is loyal to that spider. And the spider to my husband."

"No... not any longer. This spider is trying to make him give up on all that he loves, all his friends... and on you."

"What? He would never forsake me. Ever."

"Speak with him Eli, you'll see."

...

With the words of Deshana in the back of her mind, Elisten spoke clearly, calmly. "My husband! Do you know how much I love you? More than the sun, more than the stars. Always remember, never forget that!"

"I know, my pretty wife. I know. But please forgive me for what I must do!"

Thoughts running wild through her mind, Elisten tried to find the words to convince her husband that giving up that which he held dear would not do anyone any good. She knew what the spider asked of him.

"Do you know, husband, that I would die for you? Do you know, I would walk to the ends of the world to see you smile? I love you so much."

"I'm so sorry my Elisten, I'm so sorry. Please understand, please.. forgive me. I have a choice to make, and that choice is not easy. "

Knowing that the only thing she could offer him was her love, she responded the only way she could think of. She would let him know how much she loved him, even if the words killed her.

"I forgive you, my husband. All that you do, I forgive you for. I may not see eye to eye with you on certain things, but I love you. I don't know how and I don't know why, but I love you so much. If you must leave me, I would still forgive you. But please understand this one thing... Once you choose, you cannot go back. You can never, ever go back."

"I know. I know the consequences."

So scared, was Elisten. She did not know what else to do. She had just given her husband her blessing! A blessing that could very well ruin her. What had she done? Her heart was breaking slowly, into a million different pieces. The pain was so great, she could not bear it.

But, she thought. His choices are his own. She knew from the beginning that this could happen. She knew there might come a time when he would have to choose. Yet, she believed in him.

All she had left now, was hope. What else was there?

...

"My wife, I chose you. I could never forsake our vows. I could never forsake you."

Tears streaming down her pale face, she stared out the window of the little farm house.

Slowly, she turned to her husband, eyes questioning his.

"My love, believe me! I choose us. I realized the spider was trying to tear us apart. Remember all the other times that something or someone has tried to come between us? I did not fail then, and I have no intentions of failing now or ever!"

"Intentions are exactly that, Nilan. Something you do not intend to do! How can I know that next time you will come back to me? To us?"

"I promise you, I will always come for you Elisten. Always."

Shadows covered her still sore heart. "And if you can not? I do not know if my heart can sustain another trial. I nearly died when you told me you were going to choose something else over me."

"But I chose you. You are my life, priestess. I will always come for you."

...


Since that day, nothing had felt right. The strain that had come over her heart would not go away, no matter how hard she pushed at it.

She had to find a way to ease the darkness... not just for herself, but for the whole of Faerun.

...

A great evil is coming. More evil than anyone can ever imagine. There has to be a way to unite all races.

Together, we can fight it.


Elisten

[This message has been edited by Elisten (edited 12-21-2002).]

[This message has been edited by Elisten (edited 12-21-2002).]

[Nilan]

The Struggle for a Soul:


Nilan sat alone under the moonlit skies. The wind whistled through the trees bringing with it an almost eerie feeling. Leaves rustled every now and then, but the assassin paid the noise little heed. His mind was elsewhere, in a place he never wanted to go again. He shivered in the chill night air as he recalled the last time he felt so….alone.

Closing his eyes he allowed himself to drift back in time, almost 60 years ago. …

***
His house lay in ruin, torn bodies, decay, and rubble were scattered around him. The assassin felt nothing for those that had perished. Family and love were not concepts the drow kept close to his heart. Nilan trudged onward, stepping over the burned body that was once his sister. Memories of the lashings she had given him more for her amusement than any punishment he had deserved flitted through his mind. Nilan glared at the corpse and spat in disgust. The drow whirled suddenly, his keen ears picking up the sound of approaching footsteps. Houseless males did not survive long in the streets of the Underdark. Tearing his House Insignia from his cloak and tossing it among the ruins, Nilan blended into the shadows never to return again.

Days turned into nights and nights became weeks, but the drow made his way to Dobluth Kyor. The darkened surface out-post was foreign the assassin but over time it became home…and the Assassins Guild of Vhaeraun became his new, House.

Lloth was not welcome here. The Spider Queen’s teachings were vehemently opposed among the followers of Vhaeraun. It was within the very walls of the Assassin’s Guild where Nilan first learned about the god that he would soon offer allegiance too.

Vhaeraun is the brother of Eilistraee and the son of Corellon Larethian and Araushnee, who was cast out and became Lolth. Vhaeraun too was cast out of the Seldarine, by Corellon, and banished from Arvandor, along with is mother and sister. Followers of Vhaeraun believe that they must cast off the oppression that drow males had suffered at the hands of those loyal to Lloth. Their lands taken from them when they were banished from Evermeet, they believe that the drow must forcibly reclaim their birthright and rightful place under the night skies of the surface. In order to strengthen drow holdings upon the surface and to reclaim what was taken from them, Vhaeraun openly encourages both contact and marriage with elven races that inhabit the world above….

***

The howl of a wolf tore Nilan from his reverie. The assassin found himself clutching the insignia upon the cloak that was wrapped tightly around his lean body. Nilan opened his hand slowly and focused his gaze upon it. The insignia was one of a spider entwined within a black mask, a symbol of the God who’s teachings he had come to embrace.

“Vhaeraun…guide me,” the assassin muttered placing a hand over the black mask.

Nilan shivered suddenly, recalling the encounter with the spider. Though uncertain as to the true identity of the spider, the assassin could not rule out the spider queen, or even that of Ssazz Tam, himself.

'It has come time to choose your path, Velg'larn.’
'The fork in the road lies before you.'

The words of the spider played over and over in his addled mind…

'You must choose...the life that you were born into, or the life you have shown you wish to lead.'
'I cannot, and will not make you choose. But once the choice is made, there is no turning back.'
'Now swear to me you will sever all ties to the surface, that you will sever ties to those you have cared for and allied yourself with.'
'You act as though you wish to lead a crusade of the drow people to invade the surface and take back that which was once ours.'

Those words hit home, and Nilan groaned suddenly, his hands felt cold and clammy as he recalled his attempt to dare test the identity of the spider that refused to reveal itself. “'Our people deserve to take back what indeed was taken....i pay homage to Vhaeraun…yet you, spider, do not seem to be him.”

'Then you are ready to forsake those vows you made?'

Glaring at the spider, Nilan recalled his words. “Vhaerun encourages union with surface elves to further bring the drow people and power to the surface. He does not abhor my union with a surface elf, in fact he relishes in the power that the drow might obtain'.”

The spider appeared angered. 'I shall return when you have made up your mind.'

Nilan’s words flooded his soul and the drow took strength from them. “I am Nilan Al’Shadrazaar, Assassin of a destroyed house, Assassin of Vhaeraun, in the service of my people. I do not serve you, Lloth. Or you, Lich of Thay.”

And with that the spider was gone…..

Looking up into the moonlit sky, Nilan shook the meeting with the spider from his mind. Gazing up at the stars, the assassin smiled, though inside he felt as if he was being torn apart.

“Elisten, how I wish you were with me now. I wonder, my wife, are we looking at the same star….”

Nilan smiled as he ran his finger over the wedding ring he and Elisten exchanged on their wedding night.

A sudden chill wind whistled through the forest trees and the assassin drew his cloak tightly around his body.

“Vhaeraun, guide me now…keep me on the path I follow..on your path. If ever the realms need to be unified, now is that time. A great evil, threatens our very world, what we hold dear…what the drow nation holds dear. Only united can we hope to survive this.”

A dagger slowly slid into the assassin’s hand.

“Ssazz Tam,” Nilan whispered coldly. “If you indeed watch me, then know this….I know my role now, it is laid before…and I shall hunt you, until you and your Zulkirs are no more”

Nilan stabbed the blade into the ground beside him.

“The spider was right about one thing, Lich of Thay,” the assassin spat. “Nothing shall give me more pleasure than placing a poisoned blade into the backs of you and your minions!”

“I come for you”…

[Elisten]

You have made the choice for me, then. I will leave it up to you, to seek me out when you're ready.

Nilan's last words to Elisten, as he left her and retreated back to his dark world.

She didn't know what to do, her heart was so heavy.

She had turned him from her because she had been hurt. Yet, here she was doing the same thing to him.

For days, she sat in her small cottage doing nothing but staring out her window.

Life came and went for others, but for her.. time stood still.

There had to be a solution. She had to find a way to bring his love back to her.

She held onto the tiniest thread of hope...

[Deshana]

Deshana stood as usual, in the twilight between worlds. This time the twilight she stood in was the rift between Drow Assassin and Moon Elf Priestess. All too clearly, she remembered the Cleric, Dornax's words, "He's chosen the spider, It wants him to sever all ties to the surface. ALL ties" She still felt the blow to her heart at the thought of loosing the man she'd come to call brother, the man who balanced honour and his job, love for his people and a surface wife. Like the druid, in so many ways, did Nilan walk the twilight world.

So did Elisten, balancing her love of her people, service to Corellon, and love for a drow.

Now they were split by their own pain, Deshana felt it battering against her, wearing at her heart. She watched her friend retreat away from her friends, she watched her brother distance himself still further from compassion and warmth, claiming it better this way. Her heart breaking, she could only wait.

[jalahon]

The trial was a farce. Even now, a month later, Jalahon could still feel the palpable dread in the pit of his stomach from the Elf Queen's words to Deshana. "You are hencewith banished from Evermeet." He had never been one to get involved with the mechanisms of the outside world, viewing himself as more of a watcher...an archivist even. He chuckled darkly at the thought. He had come only because one of his friends so desperately needed support. So, cloaked in a powerful secrecy magic, Jalahon watched as the queen and her retinue held "court" in the forest outskirts of the elven city of Leuthilspar. As the queen began to speak, he sensed an undertone that he first thought to be the despair and remorse of a ruler forced to judge one of her subjects, especially one as kind and caring as Desh. The queen quickly became obviousl agitated and her motions seemed to become almost mechanical in their manner, not the graceful, fluid movements of the elves. Jalahon quietly muttered a spell that would magically attune his senses to the surrounding area. With a small gesture, the spell was completed and the pristine, golden auras of the elves faded into view. Hrmmm, nothing exceptional here, he thought to himself. One of the elven merchants attending exuded a reddish aura. Jala focused his vision on the merchant, carefully unravelling the illusion in his mind until Nilan, the drow assassin stood there. Well, no surprise there...Nilan, as dark as his intentions may be, was a creature of honor. Of course he would be here to support Deshana. Jalahon would have been very disappointed to not see him. Quickly refocusing on his original task, he turned his gaze to the queen. Standing there regally, and every bit the image of flawless beauty, the queen seemed to be herself, aside from her curious behaviour. Something is indeed wrong here, he thought. The queen was growing more upset and becomming less logical as every second past. His reverie was interupted when his hands began to tingle. Looking down at his staff, his eyes widened in surprise at the maelstrom of whirling shadows. The shadows were not alarming, but the frantic, almost desperate speed at which they shifted and moved up and down the staff was something Jalahon had never seen before. Shrugging, Jalahon remembered the staff was still fairly new to him, and he shold not assume to be well versed in such a complex item in so short a time. Returning his gaze to the queen, he had to stifle a gasp.

He stared in abject horror as a dusky, pitch-black tendril sinuously detached itself from the queen's shadow and circled her calf, lazily brushing up aainst her knee, then plunging through her abdomen and reappearing almost immediately out of her chest. Jalahon quickly shielded himself from magical detection. The queen was on the verge of hysteria now, and tension suffocated the once peaceful atmosphere of evermeet.

The Shadow had begun to reveal itself.

Remaining hidden for the duration of the trial, he watched as madness consumed everyone present. The slaughter that resulted was sickening. His mind worked furiously while he sat his silent vigil over Deshana inorder to make sure that at the very least she remained safe. He knew where he could get a lead, and while he didn't like it one bit, he had to admit Gahrio knew at least as much about the Shadow as he did. Finding Gahrio would be no easy chore, he thought, remembering his days in Undermountain. Gahrio had also served under Halaster with him.
====================
Thankfully, the glimmer of crystal was enough to set his mind back to his current surroundings,

"I'm telling you, elf, with this Skullsmasher, I could be the difference between life and death!" Bilraex rumbled, sounding very much like a large grumpy bear. Not to mention looking quite like one as well with his furry Northland vest and leggings. "Only if you're focusing more on trying to hit something rather than healing me", Ferdelon sarcastically quipped.
"Silence, both of you", Jalahon rasped."We are about to enter a particularly unfriendly part of Undermountain." His scratchy voice was a momento he carried from his childhood when a few orcs had found him alone on a mountain trail not far from his home in Neverwinter. He had escaped, but not before they had tried to linch him. Jalahon unconsciously fingered the ring of scarred flesh that served as another reminder of the incident. While he was trying to recall another route which would take them around the guardian crystal golem, a disembodied pair of gleaming red eyes faded into view.

"Gahrio." the illusionist slightly inclinded his head.
Bilraex and Ferdelon immediately ceased their bickering and jumped to their feet. Alerted by the sudden movement, Delmair sprinted from the horses to the rest of the group, in his hands an unholy sword pulsing a dull red.

"Jalahon" Gahrio sibilantly whispered as the rest of him faded into view. "Is that anyway to greet a brother of Illusion?" he arched his eyebrows slightly. "I watched you almost run head first into one of our masters little toys" He snickered evilly. "Have you softened this much since we last met?"

"Your master, Gahrio. I am now longer an employ to his insanity."

"Forgive my lapse of memory, Shadow Watcher" Gahhrio spat the last few words out as if they were venom, then a sly smile crossed his pock-marked face. "As one who watches the Shadow, I'm sure these recent happenings are of great interest to you."

Bilraex bristled and extended to his full height. "Tell us what you know and you might be able to crawl back to your master when we are done with you, little one!" He hefted his obscenely large mace as if to accent his point.
Gahrio began to laugh, a sound very much like two stones rubbing together.

"Enough" Jalahon whispered. "Gahrio, you know of this, I am sure of it."

"Finally, some spark of intellect", he sneered. "I do know a little of what is being whispered by the wind. Halaster knows even more, Jalahon. Why don't you ask him? Considering you would have to find him first, and then survive the encounter, would the price be too steep?" Gahrio rested hhis arms lightly on his sides, where Jalahon knew him to keep a slew of invisible and very deadly daggers. He had mentally prepared several defensive spells earlier in the day in the event Gahrio proved to be too unruly.
"No, Jalahon, don't think for a second I will aid you. You are too stupid and soft to realize what is happening beneath your very own nose to you very friends! What is happening now is the cumulation of eons of preperation, and I would never give you the keys to spoil my fun. In fact, anything I tell you would surely lead to your death, and the death of those around you, which is also a relishing thought." Gahrio paused for a second to let it sink in. "The Chaos that is about to ensue will come from EVERY direction, and it will come with so much fury, that anyone standing in the way will be swallowed by the tidal wave of evil. That foolish Harper hasn't even scratched the surface of the potential evil of the rings, and there is no way now to stop what has already been set into motion."
The dark little man clasped his hands in glee. "You've wasted your trip here. The rings have left Undermountain. That foul barbarian Thanuk should be quite close to falling off his rocker by now."
"You have lost already Jalahon, and you haven't even started. You should have stayed down here...Halaster could have protected you."

With a breath of air, Gahrio was gone.

Ferdelon uneasily hunched his shoulders. "So, can Halaster help us?" the grey elf said with a hopeful look in his eyes. Jalahon shivered. Gahrio had been right about one thing. They would not survive a meeting with the creator of Undermountain.
"No Ferd" the illusionist hissed. "I must confer with my peers of wizardry. Bilraex, see if you can't find out where Thanuk is up North. We may need to restrain him from doing something....silly." Plus, he needed to see this ring.

Absolute Power.

He wondered where that thought came from quickly before quickly bannishing it to the back of hhis mind.

One who was not alert did not last long in Undermountain.

[Clan Blindhammer]

Artikerus clambered up the steep slope, peering up in the darkness. He couldn't make out the form of the Drow any more, but knew he was using his excellant agility to his advantage as he climbed the mountain. Artikerus huffed and puffed, his muscles corded as he pulled himself up to the summit. "Damnable elf." he muttered.

Hours later, Artikerus pulled himself up to the peak. Nilan snickered softly as he watched the Duergar pull himself up. Artikerus kept his wits enough about him to extend a single, middle digit the Drow's way. He shifted slowly to a sitting position and became aware of the others on the peak as well.

Two humans, one an older man with a grey beard and a very wise look, the other dressed in the robes of a mage, stood near a towering barbarian, most likely from the tribes of the north. Deshana, the outcasted druid from Leuthilspar was there was well, with the elf Amemna, as was a third elven figure, Ferdelon. Artikerus grumbled to himself and forced himself to his feet.

Artikerus knew about the rings, loosely. He had recieved reports of the things through his clansmen, especially the scouts he had set around Thay. One of his bloodkin, Bariokierus, was dead because of the ring. He had killed one of the Red Wizards, cut off his ring finger and stolen the ring. The ring, its evil and insidious power deciding it didn't want to be wielded by the particular dark dwarf, burnt him from the inside. The Thayan's recovered the ring from his bloated and charred body.

At first, Artikerus had laughed at the story, thinking it to be some magical enchantment placed by the ever-paranoid mages to protect their magical items. But then, as the old man went on about the evil rings, he realized that thus far, his clansmen had thwarted every Thayan boobytrap set in their way while scouting, and indeed, had looted many a precious potion, armor, and scroll, from the reckless mages. This boobytrap, however, had been different.

"Something is coming up the mountain.." warned the old man. Artikerus grumbled and cocked an ear. He heard nothing but the incessant howling of the northern wind. He did not ignore the man's warning however, and had his wicked hammer ready as the first of the Thayan' forces climbed over the ridge. Artikerus was buffeted by the barbarian and the human as they raced towards the Thayans, and he stepped back, eagerly allowing the stupid surface races to rush headlong into such nefariously evil foes. He watched as mercenary after mercenary was slain, and then finally, the red wizard himself floated up the ridge. Artikerus gave a shout, a warning, but it was all for naught as the unlikely band of humans, elves, barbarians, and the drow elf Nilan pounced on the wizard. Artikerus stood and watched it all as the wizard collapsed to the ground finally, and Nilan pulled his wicked blades from it's back.

Artikerus snickered softly and bent over to check the corpse for valuables. The human mage, however, beat him to it, pulling a small ring off of the body.

"It has a ring?" inquired the old man. The human, Jalahon, nodded. He raised the ring up, showing it to the group in presence. Artikerus rolled the wizards corpse over and sat down on it, wiggling to find a good position.

Jalahon raised the ring and attempted to place it on his finger. A chorus of NO! echoed throughout the mountainside as Deshana rushed towards the human.

"To wear the ring..would kill you, or drive you insane!" she warned. Artikerus snickered softly to himself. He had learned much of the rings thus far today, and of course to him, information was the most valuable asset in the world. He had built his empire on it.

Artikerus began to muse about the trip he had taken, from his cozy tent, trailing the agile Drow up to this cold and windy peak, when all of a sudden a vision stole his sight. He saw himself sitting atop a tall, gleaming mithril throne, finer than the throne he had in his throne room in Gloomhaven. Artikerus shook his head, clearing the vision - it slowly faded, leaving an after image for several minutes. He looked at the mage who had turned deathly pale. The snow of the mountain parted around him, and melted, as the ring set it's evil boobytrap off, burning the human from the inside. The mage gasped and groaned, finally collapsing to the ground..the ring fell from his grasp.

Deshana quickly enacted spells of healing on the prone mage, everyone except Artikerus and the Drow tending to the wounded human. All of them placed a wary eye on the ring, expecting it to sprout wings and a mouth and begin attacking them.

"It is choosing.." muttered the old man. The Drow nodded slowly and looked at Artikerus. Artikerus shrugged.

"You take it," prompted the Drow, and everyone turned to him. Nilan nodded again to the Duergar King, nudging the ring towards him with a soft boot.

The barbarian nodded to, though Artikerus merely sneered at the barbarian, muttering about "pasty, white skinned trolls.."

Deshana spoke up. "Take it, Artikerus..it may be choosing...you."

Artikerus looked around behind him, as if she had referred to another King of Gloomhaven by the same name. Artikerus muttered and stubbornly shook his head.

"We can't leave it for the Thayans," the elf Ferdelon softly spoke. Artikerus spat on the ground before him.

Muttering finally, he scooped up the ring. He held it aloft in his palms and sneered at the group, as if saying, "Fine?! Are you Happy now?" Artikerus shuddered softly as something took hold. His eyes, one a milky white orb and blind, the other a dark brown, beady orb, both turned a fiery red - his hair, already strange on the normally bald Duergar, turned from black to stark white. Deshana gasped, and even the Drow Nilan took a step back.

The effects faded momentarily. The ring had made it's choice. Another ringbearer had joined the realms...

------------------
King Artikerus Blindhammer
Patron of Clan Blindhammer
Fallen Priest of Shimmergloom

[jalahon]

Thayvians, Jalahon thought distastefully. Those loathsome cowards were always trying to take what isn't theirs.

The night had been...interesting.

After the meeting with Gahrio, he made a mental list of names of people who would possibly have information on the Rings, or about the Shadow. Ironically, the first figure to come to mind was the nameless wiseman who lived in the mountains up North. This guru had taught Jalahon a few very powerful spells, and Jalahon remembered the keen intellect and vast worldliness of the sage. He would know something, Jalahon thought, being so well versed in the old lore, he must have come across information on these artifacts at one time or another. Bilraex and Ferdelon were already up North, it would be a small matter to prepare a teleportation spell to get to them. So, with a simple word and a curt gesture, Jalahon simply stepped into his own shadow, and instantaneuosly emerged from Bilraex's shadow a thousand of leagues north.

"I hate it when you do that. Why don't you just walk, you lazy bastard!" Bilraex almost shouted at him. He chuckled to himself. It was one of his few pleasures in life to annoy Bilraex. "Some of us have better things to do than walk for 2 weeks straight", Jalahon hissed. "Lets move on to the mountains, I need to visit an old friend."

As the trio slowly trudged up the snow covered mountains, the wind and snow became so bad that Jalahon could barely see the enormous form of Bilraex waddling up the steep mountain path, seemingly oblivious to the malevolent weather. Then, without warning, or even a change in the tempo, the storm ceased.

Up in the distance was Deshana, along with two companions. They, too, were climbing the summit which lead to the wiseman's cave.

Bilraex also saw Deshana. A silly looking grin broke out on his bearish face and he loped up the mountain path to meet her.

Jalahon and Ferdelon finally caught up to the small group after several more minutes of climbing and careful manuevering on the snow covered path.

"Jalahon, what in the blazes are you 3 doing here?" Deshana looked completely boggled. Jalahon arched his eyebrows. "I could ask you the same thing." Deshana nodded. "Well, tell me later, we need to find the wise one who taught Welkanezus." Deshana was traveling with the drow, Nilan, and a duergar.

"Wakawhatus?" Ferdelon stammered "Who the hell is that?"

They had finally reached the cave where the hermit made his home. The stench was overpowering. As Deshana took the first step inside, a wild looking old man detached from the shadows and approached the group.

"Teacher" Jalahon bowed to the old man.

Nilan placed both of his gleaming daggers on the ground in a gesture of peace, and uttered a long stream of drowish that only the wiseman seemed able to discern.

"Visitors!" the old man said excitedly "I don't get too many of those. Not to mention duergar, now the last time I had a duergar visitor was back when..."
"Revered Teacher", Jalahon cut him off, knowing quite well his former teacher's love for reminiscing and how lengthy even a short story could be. "I have recently discovered something unsettling. I am in need of your advice."
The wise old man nodded, suddenly somber in his reply. "I know why you have come. You seek to hear about Welkanezus."
Deshana's eyes seemed to gleam at the mention of the name. "Yes, elder, tell us about your time with Welkanezus."

The old man hobbled over to a rock, his only adornment in this rediculously cold weather was a loin clothe. Crazy old coot, Jalahon thought. Crazy, but one of the most knowledgeable people in the Realms.
Before he could even begin his story, the old man looked up sharply and squinted down the mountain path, up which they had come. "Something is coming." he said in a whisper. "A lot of somethings to be exact."
Jalahon stared intently where the old man was gazing, but he saw nothing.

A whisp of shadow trailed slowly up the path, then suddenly struck the duergar with astonishing speed. A thin line of red appear across the duergar's shoulder where the shadow struck, and he went down. A horde of hobgoblins marched into view.

"We must fight as one to win this" Nilan spoke quietly. Jalahon wondered whether he meant this fight, or the growing evil they were investigating.

Ferdelon crouched into a battlestance, and charged right into the fray. The shadows and hobgoblins were make quick work of. As Jalahon examined the corpses, he noticed Thayvian symbols on the crude leather armor worn by the goblins.
"Cowardly Red Wizards" Jalahon whispered, "Always sending others to do your foul bidding" As if on cue, a Red Wizard materialized, with the words of an offensive spell spewing from his mouth. A spell he never finished as Nilan's twin daggers found a home in the wizard's shoulder blades.
This Red Wizard must have been desperate to make such a poorly planned attack against a well equiped group. Very unlike a Thayvian to risk his own neck. This thought worried Jalahon more than the attack itself.

The duergar shook his head and clambered to his feet. Hardy little fellow, he mused. Upon closer examination of the wizard's corpse, a nondescript looking ring circled the wizard's lefthand fore-finger. Removing the ring from the wizard, Jalahon had just enough time to notice dried blood on the steel circle before a blinding pain erupted behind his eyes.

The next thing he saw was Deshana standing over him with a concerned look on her face. "Jala?" He nodded. "That ring almost killed you. It's a very good thing you weren't able to put it on. The results could have been...disastrous."

The rest happened very quickly. The duergar, who turned out to be the king of Gloom Haven, retrieved the ring from the ground and immediately seemed to fall into a trance. The air literally crackled with magical energy, and suddenly the duergar's eyes turned blood red, his hair to a stark frost color. Deshana nodded. "The ring has chosen." The wiseman looked thoughtfully at Artikerus, the duergar king, and then retreated back into his cave.

The shadow's attack and the rings presence could not be a coincidence, he thought. The Red Wizard's attack was also troubling. Was the ring that powerful that it could enslave the trained mind of a magic wielder? What did the ring plan for this duergar, he wondered. Jalahon sighed. The old man was gone, and would not likely be found. It seemed no answers would be gotten this day. He would have to wait for another scrap of information.

He would have to keep an eye on this duergar....

[Arilyn Moonblade]

The sun glinted off the scout's dark hair, unfortunately because of the oil that had built up in her hair. She hadn't bathed for days, in fact, and she nauseated herself if she stood still long enough to catch a whiff.
She desperately needed to bathe, but after spending a week outrunning the latest group of Thayan mercenaries, her safety had been far more important.

It had been months since she sent her message about the two missing daughters, and she knew that many had read it. It hadn't been her intention, but it was so good to see people coming together for a common cause. If only the rulers of the countries could do likewise, maybe these wars wouldn't be necessary..

...but the arrow out of nowhere made her think otherwise. It slammed into her collarbone, sending her reeling back over the ledge she was perched on, tumbling several feet below into a ravine. Each rock she struck on the way down hurt as much as the previous, and warm blood flowed down her arms and face.

She gazed up, a cloaked figure standing above her, its features obscured by the sun directly behind it. She tried moving, but her left ankle was pinned between two boulders. She sighed in defeat.

'Finish it.'

A husky, gravelly voice answered her. 'You're the Harper, right?'

'You're a Thayan, right?,' she retorted, her voice slightly pitching up from the pain in her shoulder.

'I was...once,' he replied, accentuating the second word heavily.

'But you still hate the Harpers, I assume.'

'Not at all. In fact, I shot you on accident. I was aiming high, but apparently not high enough.'

The scout looked at the shadow above her curiously, her face twisted in pain. She opened her mouth to say something, but he began speaking again.

'I had to warn you from the incoming mercenaries. They'll be here in minutes. I'm the only reason they haven't caught you yet.'

'What do you mean, the only reason?'

'Do you think Thayan mercenaries are such horrible trackers? No, it was me scouting ahead and letting you know our position.'

'But apparently now that you've downed me, it means nothing,' the scout smirked.

'It means I'll have to be another AWOL soldier is all, I've done it a dozen times at least. Faces are easily forgotten in Thay.'

The figure took his blade out, wedging it between the two boulders, stepping on the blade to pry them apart slightly. As Arilyn slid her foot out, the blade broke.

'By Beshaba, now I'm gonna have to sneak back and steal another blade,' he cursed.

Arilyn tried standing up, but needed assistance due to the lack of strength in her arm.

'I've got to get that arrow out.'

She nodded, knowing the full pain of having an arrow shaft removed. She braced herself against one of the boulders, taking her scabbard and biting on it.

With a lightning quick, expert twist and jerk, the man removed the arrow, surprisingly with little pain at all.

'How in the hell...' Arilyn said, astonished.

'I make my own, I know the trick to getting them out,' he said as he pointed at the arrowhead.

The head of the arrow was slightly barbed, but spaced out enough that the barbs could be unhooked from the muscle if the right amount of pressure were applied.

The man placed the broken arrow in his pack, not wanting to leave any evidence of what had happened. He took out a piece of tattered cloth, making a tourniquet and tying it around the scout's wound, stemming the blood flow.

'I'd thank you, but I'm still pondering shoving my blade through your chest for shooting me.'

'Understood,' he simply said, extending his hand. 'The name's Grenj Aurinfell, pleasure to finally meet you.'

She shook his hand lightly, her arm throbbing in pain.

'We need to get that wound stitched up and healed so you have your sword arm back. There's a village a half day's walk to the west of here.'

She nodded, and the two quietly moved down the ravine, passing directly under the band of two hundred hired mercenaries of Thay.

'One second, I need to get a new blade.'

She looked at him quizically, and then watched the man climb out of the ravine, quickly sneak up behind one of the stragglers, and removed the mercenary's sword from his scabbard.

The man quickly returned, grinning.

'Nice work, haven't seen slick fingers like that in a long time.'

He bowed, then sheathed the blade. 'Let's be off.'


-----------------------------------


The two arrived at the village six hours later, and Arilyn's wound was quickly healed by the local Tymoran priest. He'd been honored to do the deed for a famous Harper scout, and was reluctant to accept the large handful of gold coins she placed in his hands.

They arrived at a small inn, its interior warm and cozy, decorated simply with historical items of the location. Arilyn excused herself and finally bathed for the first time in over a week, returning downstairs in fresh traveling garb. She took up a seat next to the man, whose features she finally took notice of.

The man had towered over her, at least three to four inches over six feet. The tunic he wore was a size too small, probably having become that way after developing the muscle tone a scout tends to gain from climbing and walking. His eyes were ice blue, strikingly haunting from his deep bronze skin. He kept his cowl over his head, probably to conceal the tattoos that covered it. Jagged lightning bolts were tattooed on both of his forearms, starting at the wrist and extending up into his tunic, possibly ending either at his neck or his shoulders.

'So why the guise? Why not just have the tattoos removed and carry on a normal life?,' she asked of him suddenly.

'I keep them not to remind me of my past, but so that I can blend into their ranks whenever I am on a mission,' he replied after a drink of ale, his voice not nearly as gravelly as before.

'Mission? For whom?'

He leaned across the table, his face mere inches from hers. She was about to slap him for attempting to get fresh, but then saw he was secretly showing her the same pin she wore.

'How ironic,' she said, and laughed quietly.

'Isn't it? They sent me to find you, no one had heard from you in months. I couldn't get away from the group long enough to reveal my identity until today.'

'So what is the word then?'

'The daughters have been already found, Arilyn. Dead.'

She frowned, looking upset at the sudden realization that her search had been futile.

'For how long?' she asked.

'Months, years, not sure. All that was found was bones.'

'And why haven't they been raised from the dead yet?'

'Their souls cannot be found to reunite with their bodies, it's as if they were stolen.'

'Stolen? By whom?'

The burly man shrugged, taking another long drink of ale. 'It's impossible to tell.'

He lowered his voice. 'Even in my time as a Red, I never heard of a way to literally steal a soul and capture it without a means of tracing it.'

She nodded. 'How long were you there?'

'Twelve years. Ever since my sixteenth birthday. Not by choice, though. That's why I'm here now.'

She nodded again, knowing that some wealthy merchant fathers would send their children off to that forsaken place to learn magicks.

'Anyway, you're needed back west. The rings have all nearly been found.'

'How many now?'

'Nine.'

She sighed. 'Where and by who?'

'Well, that dwarf finally came out of his drunken stupor and took responsibility for the burden of the ring. Dornax, that is.'

He pondered a moment. 'One is held by the druid who was recently outcasted from Leuthilspar, and barred from Arvandor.'

She looked at him curiously. 'Who? Deshana? That one who was aiding the drow?'

He nodded. 'Nilan, yes. Who coincidentally has a ring, as well.'

'Another is held by the barbarian who is trying to challenge Kralgar to a duel. He goes by Thanuk.'

She nodded, motioning for him to continue.

'Another drow holds one, some insane mage named Jaznolg.'

'Greaaaat,' she snorted and muttered.

'A swamp troll mercenary leader bartered one away from some elementalist not too long ago.'

'A troll? That should prove interesting.'

'It should indeed, Turg's a rather vicious leader, an excellent tactician.'

She pondered, counting six. 'What of the other three?'

'They were taken by Reds. One was recovered just last night by the self-proclaimed King of some duergar settlement. Gloomhaven I think it's called. He goes by Artikerus Blindhammer.'

'And the other two?'

'That's why we're here. We need to find out who has them. It's obviously not the zulkirs yet.'

'Well, until we do, what about the missing three?'

'Two have been reported found, but no word has come of that yet.'

She looked at Grenj oddly. 'Reported found?'

'Reported, yes. Rumors circulate about some ogre attempting to barter one away from the leader of the fire giants in Muspelheim. Another source has told me that the master of the Citadel in the center of Lake Skeldrach has been harboring one for a decade now.'

'What source?'

'My old ally of course, Rhovanion. But the master only trusts him, and will talk to no one else. He's waiting for that sage to come lift the curse on him.'

'Sage? You mean Welkanezus lives again?'

'Indeed.'

'I think I'm going to get a headache from all this information,' Arilyn said in resignment.

She quickly changed the subject. 'I never got around to asking you this, but why in the hell did you shoot at me?'

'I was trying to get your attention to my location so I could talk to you.'

'You should learn to be a better shot, then.'

'I have impeccable aim, my dear Arilyn. I aimed high, but your hair was so oily that the sun reflected into my eyes, and it wasn't high enough.'

She burst into laughter, her shoulders heaving up and down.

'I hadn't bathed in a tenday, Grenj.'

'I could tell,' he continued with a grin. 'You smelled horrible.'

They both shared another laugh, thinking to themselves what an ironic alliance this was...

[Clan Blindhammer]

The Halls of Gloom were as quiest as could be, given the fact that nearly half of Clan Blindhammer, those that weren't scouting on the surface, had gathered in attendance to see their king. They grumbled and talked amongst themselves, the murmur sounding like an avalanch of rocks tumbling down an unending slope. Artikerus stood above it all, taking it all in. He looked down on his kin, loyal one in all (in that "special" loyalty that only beings of the Underdark could exude - the kind that changed at a moment's notice). He looked to his side to see his brother, Drulokerus, and his son Dralerikerus, standing as well. To his other side, Artikerus smirked, seeing the human captive, dressed in now-tattered and torn red robes, shudder involuntarily. He hands were nothing more than bloody stumps now, and only a single finger remained out of both. He looked back at the evil Duergar beside him, his eyes pools of hope.

After the physical torture, taking the humans mind from him was not a hard task for the evil dwarf. Even without his slave mindflayer doing the work with him. The human could have actually served a good purpose as a slave..but Artikerus knew he'd serve an even better as an example.

Artikerus reached behind him and took up a small mallet. He turned to watch the crowd before him, still murmuring in anticipation. With much precision and care, Artikerus tapped on a large inverted gong. The Halls of Gloom went deathly silent as each Dark Dwarf heard the silent intonation - specifically tuned to Blindhammer kins' ears - and paid strict attention to the Duergar King.

"Ye been waitin' fer the day I was to be leadin' ye to greatness!" bellowed mighty Artikerus, leaning imposingly over his podium. "And now be the time fer the leading!" Artikerus pumped a small fist in the air. The crowd of Duergar's erupted in cheer, the tumult shaking the very foundation of the buildings in the tunnels above them. Children fell to the ground as it shook, and women duergar cried in fear. The crowd cheered for what seemed eternity, but with another small tapping of the gong, silence returned with haste.

"Ye be knowin' o' the Pantherclaw army. Ye be knowin' o' the kin watchin' the Thayans. And now ye be knowin I have the very answer to placing us up on the surface." Artikerus continued. "This!" Artikerus reached and pulled a strange, dark ring from his pocket. Many Duergars eyes went wide with shock - shock that the king hadn't pulled out some such artifact of mass destruction, or a key to the gates of Waterdeep itself. Muttering quickly began in the crowd.

"SILENCE!" bellowed Artikerus, his rage over flowing. He slammed the mallet into the gong, and a veritable explosion racked the ears of all of the crowds. Many swooned and cried, but silence soon came back. Duergar silently helped kin to their feet, many with their ears bleeding. Artikerus muttered to himself. His rage did tend to have an adverse affect on most of his followers these days.

"This..ring...be makin' me more than important to the surface folk. With this as me barterin' tool, we'll have elves n' dwarves workin' as our slaves, prayin' fer us to be returnin to the surface, where we'll be crushin' us more 'n a few dwarf heads by the end!" Nobody spoke a word this time, for fear of interrupting the quickly angered Duergar King. "They be needin' us now, more 'n ever. Thems that be holdin' this, holds the very fate of the realms by their wee nasty hairs!" Artikerus snickered softly and looked at Drulokerus, who returned his evil grin.

"But don't ye be gettin' any ideas o takin' it from me! I ain't got to be killin' ye, the ring'll be doin it fer me!" Artikerus sauntered over the the Red Wizard, who looked at the Duergar dreamily. Artikerus grabbed the Wizards hand, the only hand with a digit still left, and placed the ring on it. Artikerus turned to the crowd again.

"This ring did'nae come to me by thievin' or slayin' - it came to me by choosin! See the power o this little trinket, and know the new glory o Clan Blindhammer!" he shouted, turning again the the mindless human. He muttered a small cantrip, releasing the powerless human from the mind-altering charm spell. Immediately the wizard drew himself up.

"You! Dare?!" Only then did the wizard notice the ring on his finger. His mouth dropped into a silent scream. A wisp of smoke came from his throat. The wizard dropped to his knees, gasping for air. Smoke poured from his mouth, ears, and nose, and blood began to pour from his eyes. His skin turned from pale white, to a light tan, to a dark, charcoaled black, as the ring burned the wizard from the inside.

The crowd ooh'd and aahh'd.

Artikerus snickered and kicked the burnt corpse over, ripping the charred finger off and placing the ring back in his pocket. He wouldn't dare place the ring on himself, but his kin didn't need to know that. They also didn't need to know that their surly king had spent nearly a day pounding on the ring, trying to bend and shape it, to discern it's metallic make up - but to no avail. And finally, they did not need to know the insistant visions the King dealt with, dreams of ruling not just a settlement on the surface, but the entire realms..

"Know ye will be seein' the rise of the Duergar! And know that we'll be payin' the dwarves that forced us out o the Mithril Halls soon! And know that they'll all be payin' fer their Thunder Blessin'! With their very blood! Artikerus cackled wildly, and Drulokerus and Dralerikerus joined in.

Soon the entire Halls of Gloom shook with the cheering and celebration of the mighty Clan Blindhammer, rocking the city of Gloomhaven from it's very core...

------------------
King Artikerus Blindhammer
Patron of Clan Blindhammer
Fallen Priest of Shimmergloom