The Swirling Darkness

[Quadhund/Greenhouse]

It was a clear day in Redmist. Hroth smelled the horse manure as he stepped off of caravan. He played his usual trick as he blended into the crowds of merchants, thieves, and peasants. He knew where to look. They were always there. Hroth cracked the door to the inn ever so slightly, and peered inside. There they were, so brazenly sitting in the open. He smiled to himself. He would set a trap, he would make them come and pay. He turned away from the door and begin to mingle with the crowd again. Suddenly the door burst open with the sound of thunder. The female strode forth weilding her blade, lightning and fire arcing over it. Immediately the crowd withdrew from her. Hroth dove into a nearby ally way. "There is no way she saw me," he thought to himself. But there she was, at the end of the alleyway, running towards him. He knew if she caught him unprepared like this, it would not be good. He took off at a mad dash, but not fast enough. She took a wild arcing swing and cut through his shoulder. Hroth grunted and shrugged it off, knowing that the pain was little compared to what he might endure. He ran into the open bazaar, with the female close behind. The crowd spread apart as they ran. Hroth watched the caravan pull off into the distance and realized he was trapped within the city. The guards, though usually not his friends, would surely help him. He ran to the gate, yelling for help. But they stood and watched. He ran through the gates and saw behind him, the female weaving dark magics. A mist formed over the ground and from the graveyard sprang forth a skeleton weaving a staff. The guards turned and ran in fear, and hroth lost all hope. There he was, in the middle of a populace and not a single person to his aid. If it wasn't his life on the line, he would have almost enjoyed the irony. Just when he starts to help ...

Darkness overcame him ... but it was not restful. It was not like what most that were raised from the dead spoke of. This was ... uncomfortable. And then light.

A pale green light filled the room and people moved about the room. He noticed a familiar man standing chained beside him. Hroth felt that he was chained in a similar fashion. And then the fun began ...

Hroth could endure pain. His whole life had been pain. All he had ever wanted was to seek a bit of comfort and enjoyment. He had found it once, with his friend. His only friend. The woman he loved had scorned him. And everyone else was just using him to get ahead. But he had had one friend. A friend so deep and so close that Hroth would have given up everything to protect him. And that's what he would do.

No matter what they asked, no matter what they did to him he would not tell them. His business was information ... but they didnt know his business was lying too. They beat him, and they tortured him. They removed his hands and cauterized the wounds. Once again the irony struck him. Had he remained in athkatla, surely this would have been his punishment. He smiled on the inside. In the end, the would never know the truth, and his god would take care of him. He was the chosen ... he was not afraid of the darkness. And when the killing blow came, he smiled through blood stained teeth. He knew that if he couldn't find peace, his friend would ...

The shadows formed around him. This place seemed so unfamiliar, yet so much like home. Light, but not light, more like blackness, was emitted from torchs on the pillars. The shadows had eyes, and teeth. Hroth turned around and around to look at them ... were they his friends our his enemies? One can never tell with a shadow. Its features are blank, but the shape is distinct, much is the face he carried in his days. A shadow can reveal much, for darkness is everywhere. And most of all, a shadow always follows you, especially when you turn your back. As hroth turned around and around, he watched his back and realized he need not worry. He could control them. He could always control the shadows. He bent his will and the shadows absorbed him. And then he saw it ... he saw a mask in the darkness ... and it spoke.

[Quadhund/Greenhouse]

//oh and dont worry, now that hroth is dead, i can work more on his background story LOL. i figure that i can get at least 2 more stories out of his background (maybe 3)

Doug when do you want to start work on your book some more? I think a joint effort could be most "profitable". *said in a hrothgar voice*

[henny]

The dwarf stood outside the south gates of Isinhold. A holy Paladin and a warrior of skill stood as witness...
"Come out ye fool" the dwarf cried to the gates..
the gates opened and a elf limped out. "ye have been accused of given power to those wizards not be ready fer such power and endagerin all of cormyr by doin do.. and I be accusion ya.. now do ya's be pleadin gulity to me and be lettin a court decide yer fate.. or do ya's say innocent and and fight me fer da truth..?" Excuses was all the the elf could offer.. nothing but lame excuses.. "Erwien.. ye be accused of subvertin da law. how do you plead and plain? Guilty by law or innocent by combat?" The dwarf pulled forth his huge two bladed axe... " I am innocent" the elf meekly replied.. "Then defend yerself to yer innocence" the dwarf shouted blow after blow the dwarf rained own on the elf.. till finally in a desperate move the elf ran inside of the gates.. Stopped at the gates, the guards said.. "No fighten in Isinhold, dwarf. You know this" .. "Aye.." the dwarf replied.."let justice be served on him, wherever the coward goes".....

[henny]

The warrior stands in front of the dwarf.. "I know you dwarf, you remember kickin in my ribs?" The dwarf looks puzzled. "Ye sure it was me ?" the dwarf replies confused.. " Yes you deny being a Banite?" "Yep, not knowing what yer talkin about.. but I be willing to face yer charges, tall un.. I be going with ya to da judges..." The warrior faces him and stares at him for a second... "well perhaps... but I'll be watchin you dwarf.. you better be knowin I will" with a shrug the dwarf saunters away to find an ale...

[DM Grizwald]

*Padrin was walking through redmist as usual, trying to avoid anybody, just paying attention to gettin out and not causing any trouble there, when he stumbled upon a hooded ranger he knew. Since hearing that hooded ranger was not of bane and that he stood trial for it, padrin thought it might be a good idea to maybe get to know him, to find out for sure. They talk. Eventually the two of them end up going to the mistwood crypts, padrin's idea of getting to observe him in combat, watch strengths and weaknesses. The as the come near the end of the first level, they come across a dark figure.

The figure then begins to explain about some possibility that the crown does not allow padrin to be a free man, that he cannot use his powers to his advantage to free nature. A second dark man appears, and explains that the crown will soon be taking power in the woods there as well and that all that padrin will hope to not come true to the places he cares most of do. The druid refuses to believe this suggestions but something inside is telling him that some of what they said was true. That some of there suggestions have already happened. He argued his side and they left calling the druid a fool for being a dog of the crown's laws.

THe hooded ranger stood there not saying anything, just listened. As they finished what they needed to do in the crypt, the ranger and Padrin headed back to the city of Redmist. They come across a man lying on the ground, a pale dressed woman and the second dark figure he came across ealier.

"Morier, we meet again". says padrin. Morier just chuckles and says a few witty comments. The dark figure comments on Padrin being a fool and being in the wrong places at the wrong times.

Darkness takes over....

He wakes up, pain shooting through his body. He looks up to hear the dark man saw earlier and morier talking to eachother. As they say each others names he knows were he is. Looking around, chained to a pillar, he was in their lair. They toture the man beside him. Cut him, they wipe him, they even cut off his hands. Padrin then looks up only to recieve another blow to the head.

Darkness takes over again...

Lying there with his eyes closed, he hears something about a tomb and a key. He tries to rise to his feet only to recieve beatings from what seemed to be the leader. Sitting back, bruised and bleeding, he concentrates, concentrates on all the things he holds dear. He thinks about the most beautiful woman to the world to him, his friends, his home and the nature around him. Padrin thinks to himself, this cannot be the end.

Then he realizes one thing, that the door cannot be locked anymore. That people have been coming in and out of that thing all night. He closes his eyes, takes shape of a wyrmling, slips out of his shackles and makes a break for freedom, leaving his totured and beaten aquantance behind. Flying high in the sky, dodging arrows and balista shots, he makes his way to the abandoned Isle and shifts into a boar. There he waits, perhaps things will settle, perhaps not. He knows one things now, that he has information to help, and that if he is to stay alive, that he is not to show himself for a long time.

[Grozer]

He sat quietly in his chamber reflecting obviously weary with a familar vision in his head. Even in death, his red bearded face seemed to mock him. Much had happened this day and all by mere chance or at least he assumed it was.

They had just decided to travel to the temple and continue his teachings on ancient rituals. She was growing quite powerful, he remembered thinking at the time. But he always had that nagging thought deep in his soul, her fierce power was weakened by quick temper and her lust for blood. How will I control that? No action can be random, planning is critical.

The door opened slowly and then he entered. She reacted without speaking a word and quickly gave chase. Following behind they raced through the city. He finally caught her by the city gate just outside the graveyard, she was standing over the body. The local guard nearby was also dead. He barked orders knowing they could not stay here long, when the druid walked up, with him....

The ranger, the one he had trusted, the one they turned against him...

"Fool, you happened along the wrong place at the wrong time!"

His sword came crashing down on the druid with little resistance. The killing blow came quick and he turned to the traitor. For a brief moment he hestitated, compassion for an old comrade attempted to seep into his heart, but it soon vanished as the tip of his sword tasted his flesh. His eyes blazed red with rage and anger while he twisted the blade in the man's stomach.

We have less time now... quickly... then she suggested something he did not even consider. A grin curled across his mouth and he listen. She was proving quite resourceful. They carried the heretics as quickly as possible back towards a place of safety.

They reached the temple without notice. Calling upon their lord, their souls were called back before them. The guards quickly chained them to the pillar and he told them to make sure the thief was secure. "He has many tricks." The dark man looked him in the eyes and smiled wickedly while placing one chain around his neck like a leash.

"You can avoid what will come next "friend"..." He would not be easy to break but they had plenty of time.

((To be continued, I need to go to work))

[Grozer]

((Add to this story in Ranan's bio if you are interested, but added it here also.

frc.proboards37.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=adventurer&thread=1109954960&page=1 ))
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A knock at the door disturbed his thoughts, "What is it!" The scout entered trembling slightly realizing he was interrupting and seeing the look on the cleric’s face.

"Sir, Redmist is quiet."

With the wave of a hand he dismissed the scout, "Be gone then and do not bother me again this night."

As the door closed, he was puzzled. Although there were no living witnesses, the chase through the town was sure to catch some attention. The local official seemed to be running things his way, perhaps this was an opportunity. The rumor of him arresting Shields had reached his ears, he may listen. He would need to pay a visit to the official as soon as possible. The owner of the local inn may be able to help arrange a meeting. Redmist was a different city, where it seemed he could always find a warm bed and ale not to mention his frequent visits to the Prancing Pony. He wanted to keep it that way.

His thoughts shifted back to the events of this night.

The key… the tome… he was working against me all this time. My men had warned me, but how could I ignore the opportunity. The reborn one asked, no pleaded with me to allow her the pleasure of breaking the traitor. She was quite effective using various means.

While he watched and shouted questions, he could not help being impressed the display of strength. The fool continued to defiantly mock me…. he accepted and shrugs off so much pain, but it was only a matter of time. Such a waste, why could he not see there was a better way… an easier way… he did not have to endure this… but he chose to help the enemy which left little choice.

Eventually there was nothing more to be gained and he refused to accept any alternative. The Dark Priest commanded them to stop and approached closely standing over the nearly dead body. He couldn’t say it aloud and risk their reaction, instead looked into his eyes giving him a quiet salute of a profound respect. This dark priest did his duty but could not help from respecting strength and courage. Instinct told him this would not be the last time they met. Perhaps on the other side…

“Enough! Finish it…”

The flicker of the sunlight slowing pushing back the night pulled him from those thoughts. From his neck hanging by plain string was a small cloth pouch not big enough to hold more than a few pebbles. As he had done many times before, he pulled it open to reveal a lock of raven black hair. It belonged to her. Holding it, he closed his eyes, thinking of her flooded him with emotion almost washing away the blackness of his heart… fighting off the sorrow for her, he pushed those feeling deep within the empty soul, burying it once more. So long ago, one action changed the course of his life. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t chance… Gods don’t leave it to chance. He was manipulated, yet he achieved justice and rightly so. Delivering death to her defilers fulfilled him beyond description. The God-granted power bent to his anger and satiated his rage. For that, he made his deal and serve it he would.

This kill was no where near as sweet.

[henny]

A wind whistles through the lush grass lands. Birds take flight from a nearby tree. To the passerby all is at peace. Yet if they look again they will notice an disturbance in the tall grass. A body lies there, raggidly breathing. Blood bubbles burst from his mouth. He eyes grow glazed. His breathing falters, and then.... stops. His lips turn blue. His wounds stop bleeding... one last muscle spasm shifts a leg and then stillness... the predators move in... the first of the wild dogs approaches.. close enough to bite, to tear.. the dog falls. Eyes blackened with death. A tremor begins quietly and then builds to a great crescendo. Animals flee in all directions and beneath the body, a chasm forms. Suspended in the air the body floats unnaturally over the abyssal gash in the earth. A long skeletal hand, like that of a long dead giant reaches out and grasps the body. A voice of a thousand voices whispers across the land. "Traitor... you will be suitably 'rewarded' for decrying me and failing in your faith. Welcome home, Marcus" The hand pulls the body down into the earth and the crevice seals itself. All is at peace once more.. Until a low, everlasting, pain filled scream crosses the lands, causing children to wake crying in there beds, old men to hug there bottles closer. Dogs to whine.