Novels of a Heroine (Emma la Faye)

[Xerah]

This thread will contain the collective works of Lia Amblecrown. They are about a great heroine of Cormyr, Emma la Faye and her exploits in the nation.


Novels:

Emma la Faye and the Missing Daughter
Emma la Faye and the Harvest of Souls
Emma la Faye and the Curse of Terror

[Xerah]

---

The evening was creeping upon the Regal Griffin Inn as Emma la Faye was staring into the crackling fire polishing her dagger she called “Spellfire”. The dagger was given to her by her old teacher of the arcane arts, Canderren Bronden, a wizard and former adventurer. Canderren wanted to make sure Emma always remembered that the weave could be used as both a weapon and as a tool, much like a dagger.

The Inn was rather empty for that time of night – most of the local adventurers were busy with other matters – but a number of locals braved the cold night for a warm supper. Half way through the evening rush, an older woman pushed open the door and spoke with a few of those sitting down. Emma immediately noticed this woman, as the open door had let in a gust of wind, which almost blew off her black and purple heroine’s hat.

The old woman was speaking in whispers, so it was hard to really understand what she was looking for. One word that she did hear, however, was 'hero'. That word was tossed around fairly liberally, but Emma herself knew that her title as ‘Heroine of Cormyr’ was well deserved.

“Excuse me, Miss,” Emma spoke up loud enough so the old woman could her over the casual dinner talk of the Inn. The woman almost instantly turned her head to the fire, “I heard you mention ‘hero’, is there a trouble that plagues you?”

“Oh, no Ma’am, no one is sick.” The old woman called back as she made her way over to our leading lady.

“I believe you misunder ---”

The old woman cut Emma off before she could finish, “But there is another problem I have. My daughter, I fear the worst! I’ve sent a few letters to her in Redmist but as of yet, she hasn’t returned any. It’s been a month!” She managed to squeak out all her troubles before bursting into tears. Emma directed the old woman down to a chair in an attempt to console her.

“Is there anything I can do?” The heroine offered hopefully.

“Well…” the woman said in between sobs, “If you could…take this letter…and hand deliver it…I’d know she would be alright.” The old woman pushed a sealed envelop into Emma’s hands.

Emma looked down at the letter at the plain letter sealed with a bright red wax. The letter was addressed to Sentria Linatha. The blonde gave the old woman a reassuring smile, “I shall be off now, this is far too important to dally. Please Mrs Linatha, go home and rest. I will return as soon as possible.”

---

Our leading lady travelled all though the night and finally made the gates of Redmist by dawn. Although she was tired, there were heroic acts to perform and she did not have a moment to spare.

Emma spent most of the day asking around town if anyone had seen Sentria and by noon, she had her first break in the case. She learned from a co-worker at a local bar that she had recently become involved with a minor noble – a Lord Luthan - and hadn’t been to work in a week. The barmaid gave Emma directions to the noble’s house and she took off to search for further clues.

Rather than outright break the law, perhaps I should knock on the door as actually ask if she is there. I mean, she could just be completely in love and not need to work anymore…that’s really the most likely reason. Despite the logic of knocking first, Emma took a good ten minutes thinking it over as she stared at the front door of the estate. Finally, logic overcame all else when she found herself raising her hand to knock on the door.

A man dressed in a black suit opened the door. He only responded with an unimpressed “Yes?”

“Um, hi, I’m Miss Emma la Faye, Heroine of Cormyr. I’m looking for a Ms Sentria Linatha. Could I speak with her, please?”

“Right this way,” the butler responded back and directed her up a spiral staircase to the second floor. “Wait in the library, he will see you shortly. At the end of the hall.”

Emma shrug her shouldered and followed the red carpet towards the library. “Thank you, Sir – wait, did you say? He?” She quickly spun around, but the man had already gone back downstairs, so, although confused, she continued on her way to the library.

The room was filled to the ceiling with book after book. Since she had to wait, Emma decided that she would take some time looking through the books. Most of them were about Cormyrian history although the odd few contained lore from the far reaches, such as Thay and Amn.

“Miss Emma la Faye, I presume?” The booming voice called out from behind her.

The voice startled her as a book on Cormyrian Law slipped out of her hand and fell to the ground. “Oops. Sorry about your book.” She quickly grabbed it from the floor and stuffed it back into the shelf before looking the man. He stood over six feet tall and his well built physique was hidden by an expensive purple robe. “Yes, I am Miss Faye. You must be Lord Luthan. I’m actually hoping to speak to Sentria.”

“So I’ve been told. Unfortunately, she has been captured and is being help for ransom.”

“Captured? Her mother is very worried and this will not help matters.”

“Yes, she has good reason to worry. These hooligans will kill her if I do not pay by tomorrow.”

“Well,” Emma proudly proclaims, “I shall find her and save her from those hooligans before they force you to pay.” It is, afterall, what a hero would do.

A thin smile moved across the face. “Ah, excellent. I have actually located where she is being held.” The lord passed a small map over to Emma.

“Great! Emma la Faye, Heroine of Cormyr shall not fail you, Lord Luthan.” Emma took off out of the house towards the slums. All the Lord could do was watch with that same thin smile – he was not going to turn down free help.

---

Our leading lady made haste toward the location of the bandit’s hideout. Perhaps she should have questioned the ease to obtain this information, but that was not her concern at the moment – she could only think about saving Senthia.

The house that the map noted was rather run down. Emma spent about an hour checking the outside and trying to spy inside. Most of the windows were boarded up, but she could spot two people in a small living room, sitting around a small table in front of what looked like a bedroom door.

“What!?” echoed from inside the building. Emma ducked down under the boarded window incase they had spotted her. “What do you mean he’s not back with the ale yet!?” a loud brutish man yelled out.

She continued to hide underneath the window going over ideas to save Senthia – assuming she was even in that room. Maybe, if I go in now, I can avoid the third one who’s gone. That sounds like the best – wait! If I wait until he gets back with the ale and they spend all night drinking, yes, this is excellent. I shall go in when they’ve passed out for the night!

The night was fairly uneventful. When the third man returned, they all began to attempt to drown the ale monster that lived in their stomachs. This is going to be easier than I first thought.

And indeed it was. The drunkards had even forgotten to lock the door. She snuck into the house and tied up two who had passed out. When she moved towards the third man, he began to stir.

“Huh? Wha?” he grumbled out as he stumbled to his feet.

Emma leaped at him with her fist forward and connected with his face. The two fell to the ground with a loud thud. They struggled on the floor for a bit until Emma was able to hit him again with a knee to the crotch. That dazed him enough for her to pin him down. The sounds woke the other two drunkards up, but they were well constrained.

She pulled out one of her daggers and held it to the man’s throat. “Where is she and who are you working for?” she screamed at him.

“In the room…don’t kill me…”

“Then tell me who you’re working for! I will kill you!” It was a simple, yet effective ruse.

“I can’t…he’ll do worse things than kill me…just take the keys, they’re in my pocket…”

“Grah!” In a fit of frustration, Emma pounded him in the head with the back end of the dagger, knocking him out. “A heroine would never kill in cold blood. I shall spare your lives this time, cretins,” she proclaimed to the other two men.

With the keys in hand, Emma released Senthia and they made haste back to Lord Luthan’s estate.

---

The daughter had been saved, the lover re-united and the mother was at ease - just another day for the Heroine of Cormyr, Emma la Faye.

[Xerah]

---

The great heroine sat near the fine at her favorite Inn, the Regal Griffin, telling a fellow adventurer the account of her latest epic adventure. The inn became deathly silent as in walked the group Emma would later learn was called the ‘Circle of Terror’. Two men and a woman, dressed mostly in black and one of the men was carrying, what could only be, a scythe crafted for war rather than the bane of grain stocks.

One of the men had a beard and a bald head, and with just a shave, a dye kit and some tattoos could have been mistaken for a Thayan. The woman of the group had her face hidden away behind a hood, shrouding her face from the prying eyes of commoner and adventurers alike – including your heroine. Lastly, the leader of the group, the man with the Scythe, was the kind of guy that a girl rebelling against her father would fall for.

As the quietness of the inn was overcome with the faint whispering of the patrons, the three sat at a table near Emma. The heroine took a deep breath, before continuing on with her story about the missing girl while keeping one ear on the next table. As she was nearing the end of the tale, she overhead the leader speaking of a holy day - the Harvest of Souls.

Upon hearing the day’s name, Emma excused herself from the tale and walked over to the next table. They didn’t even look up before she began to talk. “Under Section 4, part 4 of Cormyrian Law, the practice of magical assault against the people of Cormyr is illegal, therefore the use of your magic to invoke necromantic arts is hereby forbidden.”

The three at the table looked up at her and laughed – what could a small human female really do, after all? After holding back his bought of laughter, the balding man replied in a stern voice. “You listen here, girly, and you listen well. We’re known as the Circle of Terror, you’d be wise not to cross us. We will do what we want, when we want and with whom we want."

Emma’s face hardened. “I will say this again, I Emma la Faye, heroine of Cormyr am telling –”

The man with the scythe cut her off before she could finish. “Heroine, yes, of course. I am the Harvester of Souls, this is the Lady of Death, and my correct friend is known at the Carrier of Doom. AND, hells, I can’t stand the thought of hearing the sound of your shrill voice again. We’re leaving anyway, lots of work to do this eve.” The three of them chuckled before gathering their things and parting.

As soon as the door closed, the inn erupted in a bought of cheering and clapping. “Yay Emma!” “Great work, Heroine!” “Three cheers for Emma! Hip hip horary!” The blonde quietly took it in as she watched them stride down the trail and out of the town.

The cheers quieted down after a few moments and one of the commoners spoke up, “Emma, you need—”

She cut him off and responded without even looking, “I know Traven. I know.” And just like that, she was off herself, shadowing the Circle of Terror through the dark woods.

---

Emma spent the better part of the night following the Circle of Terror through the wilderness until they finally stopped atop a cliff that overlooked a bay of the Lake of Dragons. The area was covered in what appeared to be a circle of recently dug graves with a stone statue in the middle.

The Circle set their packs down as the Carrier of Doom and the Lady of Death kneeled down on opposite sides of the statue between the graves and began to chant. “God of Undeath, today is your day, your holy day, and we wish your aid to invoke the Harvest of Souls!” they both chanted in unison. Dark magic burst out of the two towards the statue and the ground seemed to move slightly with every burst. The Harvester of Soul just stood and watched the two wizards work their craft. “Send us your minions so that we may raze towns and provide you with a year’s supply of souls!”

The heroine knew that there was no time to consider her actions any longer – she had act now. She grabbed her two daggers, Spellfire and Fatal Touch, and ran as fast as she could toward the Carrier of Doom. Fortunately, all three were too caught up in the ritual as Emma ran over and struck the wizard with her daggers. The necromantic energy he was conjuring up entered into Emma and nearly tossed her over the edge of the cliff.

The loss of the Carrier of Doom overloaded the Lady of Death with necromantic energy and her body collapsed just as the ritual was about to finish.

“Girly! We told you to stay away but you didn’t listen,” screamed the Harvester of Soul as he ran towards her brandishing his scythe. He swung the scythe at the weakened heroine, but she managed just enough strength to roll away then a quick push sent him over the edge of the cliff.

As the man fell towards the ocean, he took out a horn shaped like a sea shell and blew into it. “Dark Carp, bard of the Sea, I call upon you!” he yelled out after the horn had echoed around the cliffs.

Just before he hit the water, the most blasphemous undead creature she had ever seen jumped from the sea and caught the falling man – a zombified octopus. As they submerged back into the sea, a cloud of darkness moved through the entire bay, hiding their escape. She looked back for the other two, but they were gone as well.

Emma stood at the edge of the cliff shielding her eyes as the Morning Lord’s gaze shone directly at her. The Circle of Terror was gone, not dead, but at least for today, the Harvest of Souls had been stopped.

[Xerah]

---

Crickets chirped around Emma as she stood motionless in the night on a dirt road in Isinhold. It was dark, almost too dark – like there were creatures just out of her sight who were feeding on the light.

A shiver went down her spine as the wind blew into her face. It made her realize that she wasn’t wearing normal outdoor clothing – she was in her night gown. Emma spun around on her heels too look for the Griffin to get back to bed, but it wasn’t there - just darkness.

Slowly, the darkness inched towards her. The town went silent and all that remained was the ever increasing pounding of her heart until she was completely overcome in shadows.

“Heeeeeeelp!” She screamed at the top of her lungs.

---

Emma awoke in a startle with a hoarse voice and cold sweat streaming down her cheeks. Her heart was beating so fast, she was sure the echo would wake the entire inn.

Suddenly, there was a tapping on her inn room door. “Miss Faye! Miss Faye! Are you well?”

The sound shocked her but she recognized the voice – it was Kale, owner of the inn. Emma quickly put on her nightgown and rushed to the door. “Yes, Master Kale, I am fine!” she blurted out as the door swung open.

It wasn’t just Kale. The rest of the patrons where standing with him. Also, a man, Sir Telrik, rushed into her room wearing only his undergarments and brandishing a sword. “Miss Faye, are you sure all is well in here? You were screaming for help.”

“Yes, Sir Telrik, I am well…” she said, holding her hands up in protest, “It was just a bad dream…”

“None the less, Miss Faye, I think it would set everyone’s mind at ease if I had a look around.” The former Purple Dragon wasn’t really asking, as he came in anyway. And she was not going to protest too much, after all, this man was one of the first back into Arabel during the recent liberation. Even a heroine can have her own hero.

Emma looked back to Kale and the other patrons. “Really, I am truly sorry. It was just a bad dream. I did not mean to wake anyone.”

Kale patted the woman’s shoulder as a father would when trying to comfort their daughter, “You’re safe now Miss Faye.”

Sir Telrik emerged from the shadowed room. “Aye, it’s all clear.”

“See,” Emma pleaded with the others, “Just a bad dream.”

A murmur came up from the crowd as they made their way back to bed. It was clear what that was about – if there was something in Isinhold that could terrify a Heroine of Cormyr, what hope would they have.

“Miss Faye, please try to get some rest. I’m just down the hall if you are having any further troubles this eve.”

“Thank you, Sir Telrik, it means a lot to me. Rest well…” And with that, she shut the door behind him and went back to sleep.

---

Emma awoke the next morning without incident and made her way downstairs for breakfast. Sir Telrik and his adventuring troop, the Golden Light, were talking to a farmer from a couple of miles outside the town.

“Orcs!” grunted the farmer, “Butchered eight o’my cattle last night. Blasted things! I’m going to go broke!”

The former knight nodded, “Well shall cleanse your lands of these creatures. Payment will not be necessary; you need not worry any longer.”

“You will? Thank Tymora you were here this morning!”

“Sir Telrik,” Emma called out as she rushed over, “I heard of the orcs, I’ll come with you!”

Sir Telrik directed her to sit down with his battle hardened hands, “No, Miss Faye, I cannot allow that. You have had a dramatic experience last eve, and you need to rest today. My troops can easily take care of a few marauding orcs.”

With a frown, the heroine nodded, “Yes Sir Telrik, I understand.” She sat at the table and watched the five leave for the farmer’s land.

---

About an hour after the Golden Light left the town, a woman rushed into the Inn, screaming. “My son! Someone! Please! I need someone to help my son!” The patrons of the Inn ran over to comfort the troubled woman.

Although Sir Telrik told her to take an easy day, it was not going to be possible now. There was no one else to find this woman’s son. “Miss, I need you to take a few deep breaths to calm down and tell me what happened.”

“Heroine…yes…of course…My son was playing with a neighbor’s boy, and they went into the crypts in the city. When the guard was occupied, they managed to sneak inside. After a few moments, they became separated. The last thing the boy said he heard was my son screaming of spiders…and my son is terrified of spiders! You have to help him! His name is Victor.”

“I will. Just go home and wait, Miss, incase he comes back by himself.”

The heroine rushed upstairs to get her daggers and dress for trouble. Sooner or later, it was going to find her. Sooner just happened to be a lot quicker than later.

---

As Emma made her way to the Crypt, she noticed a sign in front of the Silvanus temple. The sign read as follows:

CLOSED!
This temple is hereby closed until further notice. We no longer wish to be outside. Do not try to find us.
~The Druids

It was strange that a group of druids would want to stay inside, but now was not the time for idle curiosity – the boy was more important. Another odd occurrence was that the guard who normally guarded the door to the crypt was missing. He likely had gone inside to search for the boy as well.

With a torch in hand, Emma searched through the empty tombs for about thirty minutes until she heard the whimpering of a child. “Victor?” Emma called out in the direction of the whimper. But there was no response and the whimper stopped.

Behind her, she heard a scraping on the stone walls. She turned around to see nothing but darkness…darkness that started to creep towards her. Inch by inch, it moved towards the woman, drawn to the torch like a moth to a light. Emma heart began beating loudly again as she heard a familiar voice.

“Emma?” a woman’s voice called out from the darkness.

Although she recognized the voice, it was not something that set her worries at ease. “M…Mother? But…you’re…dead…” She backed up until she hit the wall and then crouched down holding the torch out as if to shield her from the creature.

“I’m here for you Emma…”

But the darkness kept coming. It finally engulfed the torch and she was left sitting alone in the dark with her mother nowhere to be found.

This time it wasn’t a dream - there would be no waking up. This time, it was real…

---

Aside...

“And you can stay down there!” a woman’s voice called out from behind a slammed door. The little blonde girl could only cry as she collapsed on a damp cellar floor. The seconds turned into minutes and the minutes turned into hours – pitch black darkness can tend to distort one’s perception of the passage of time.

It was only a shiny green gem, I’m sorry mommy! I didn’t know there would be a problem to touch it! Although the girl’s mother was a sorcerer of some sort, she did not dare speak up for even greater fears than being locked in a cellar. This wasn’t the first time she had been down there; the punishment for anything she would do that made her mother unhappy was time in the cellar – sometimes for a few hours another for even a few days.

This time she would be lucky as the door opened after only a few hours and her mother stood at the top of the stairs waiting for a response. “I’m sorry mommy. I’ll never happen again…”

“I know Emma, I know it won’t.”

---

The cool stone bricks on her cheek and the nearby burning torch caused a stark contrast in the feeling across her face as the heroine woke up with a startle. The voice and the pitch black darkness were gone with only the sounds of the flickering torch to fill the crypt.

“Maybe I fell and hit my head…” Emma said to herself as she pushed off the ground. She checked for her daggers then grabbed the torch before heading deeper into the crypts. “I’m getting a bad feeling about this. I should...maybe, just go back.”

A voice cackled and echoed through the crypt with an eerie laughter, “Little Emma, scared again. It’s always something with you!”

“Mother! Stay out of my life!” Emma tried to hide her fear as she yelled out at the top of her lungs.

“How dare you speak with such a tone to me! I should have killed you and then you wouldn’t have to deal with crying all the time.” The darkness once again started moving towards the heroine but this time she decided to run.

Unfortunately, when one runs in an unfamiliar labyrinth of twists and turns, surrounded by the smell of death and followed by a childhood fear, it should be no surprise when one ends up lost. And when Emma finally stopped to catch her breath that is exactly what happened to her.

When the heroine looked up after catching her breath, she noticed a strange dark black pillar. “This has to have something to do with what’s going on!” she said quietly while still taking a few quick breaths. One common requirement of heroism is luck and luck was something that Emma always had lots of.

“Sssssoooo, ourrr littllle hhheroinnnne issss afraiddd offf thhhe darkkk anddd herrr mommyyy.” The raspy voice echoed from behind her before it started to laugh. Emma turned around to see four shadowlike creatures moving slowly towards her. “Imaginnnne livinggg innn a worlddd withhh nothinggg buttt fearrr. Onccce youuu arrre gonnne, thattt isss the townsss fate.”

“By my word, that will not happen. And you vile creatures, will find no quarter here!” Emma quickly grabbed her two daggers from their sheaths, crossed them over her head and called out to the gods, “Lord of the Dead, Judge of the Damned, I call upon you to allow me to release these souls!”

A bright light erupted from Fatal Touch and spread through the entire room. Three of the shadows let out quick hissssses before disappearing, but the last one made an almost female screaming sound. As the heroine’s eyes adjusted to the new brightness, she saw a figure she recognized. The speaking shadow was none other than the Lady of Death.

“Youuu willlll notttt leaveee herrrreeee!”

Emma did not respond, but rushed towards the shadow with the still brightly coloured dagger and drove it into the creature. Before it could react, the shadow exploded in from a fit of divine retribution. The Lady of Death was gone, and this time for good.

As the light of the dagger began to die down, Emma turned her attention back to the black alter. “Better destroy this before anything more happens again.” Once more, she crossed her daggers over her head and called out to the gods, “Mystra, Lady of Mysteries, Mother of All Magic, I call upon you to lend your power to destroy this alter!” Emma drove the dagger into the alter as if it were leather. She held it for a few moments as it began to turn red before the alter finally shattered.

“Ahhh,” a young sounding voice squeaked from the next room.

“Victor? Is that you?”

“Miss Emma,” the voice responded peeking out from the doorway, “Miss Emma is that you? We were playing Heroes, like you, and we got…”

She smiled slight, “Yes Victor it is. You needn't fear the spiders anymore.” Emma bent down to grab a piece of the shattered alter before picking up the boy. “It’s time to go back home.”