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Post by Kolfrosta on Nov 7, 2004 14:05:46 GMT -5
Volmar Amraphen had made the trip between Suzail and Arabel often enough. His prior adventuring experience served him well enough to protect his goods as he travelled. What he was not prepared for, was the scene he had come upon 13 years ago.
As he made his way along the road heading back to Suzail, a thin column of smoke ahead gave him reason to loose his great-ax from his baldric. Rarely was there trouble in these parts, but times were uncertain. Moving carefully through the trees next to the road, he came upon a brutal scene of slaughter. A caravan had been waylaid, and all that remained was burning wagons and bodies strewn about the area. It seemed the marauders left none alive. He picked his way through the carnage, when he heard the soft sounds of sobbing. Looking around, he found hidden under the remains of a barrel, a young girl, her face covered in soot and grime, tear streaks running down her face. She looked to be about 5 years old. Her black hair was a tangled mess, and her blue-grey eyes were red from much crying. She looked up at him and simply asked "Daddy? Where's my daddy?" She began crying again.
Volmar was quite uncertain what to do. He knew he could not just leave the girl, and a quick survey of the area told him her parents were dead. He and his wife of many years, Alanna, had never been favored by the gods with children. Gathering up the small child he wrapped her in a warm cloak, and held her, telling her everything was going to be all right. He then made his way home with the extra bundle, a small smile curling his lips.
Alanna greeted her husband at the door with her usual smile. Upon seeing what he carried in his arms, she cried, "Oh praise Mystra! Such a precious child! But how is it you have her?" Volmar related to her the story of what had happened on the road. Alanna frowned, "Oh the poor dear. Come here sweetheart. Are you hungry? Let's get you all cleaned up and get you something to eat sweetie." She took the child from her husband's arms and, smiling, took care of the little girl.
"Do you have a name, little one?", she asked.
"My name Sharita, where my mommy and daddy?"
"It will be allright. Your mommy and daddy cannot be here right now, but we would love to have you stay with us until they come back. Would that be all right?"
The young girl nodded, and yawned. Alanna took the girl to the bedroom, and made up the small bed for her. Tucking her in, she kissed the child on the forehead, and whispered, "It is all right, you are safe here. The Lady will watch over you."
The young girl grew up in a very loving family. Her mother taught her the ways of Mystra, as she was herself a priestess of the Lady of Mysteries. Her father, knowing the nature of the world, and knowing his daughter's "gift" for finding trouble, took upon himself training her in the art of fighting.
Then one night, when she was about 16 years old, Sharita had a dream. In it she saw the Lady Mystra, carrying a sword and shield. The Lady offered the weapon and shield to her, and asked, quite simply, "Sharita, there is a great need in the realms. I offer you the choice to follow me, to uphold justice, to promote goodness and righteousness, to aid those who need aid, to defend the weak against those who will use the Weave to the detriment of others. Do you accept?"
Sharita knelt before The Lady, and bowing her head, she replied, "I do most humbly accept, and pray all my actions will bring you honor."
"Then go, to my temple, and begin your training in the morning." The Lady smiled, and in a flash of blue-white light, disappeared.
The next morning, Sharita packed up, told her parents of the dream and said her goodbyes. They both wished her well.
She was one of the youngest squires in her class. In spite of this, her training went very well, as she excelled in all her classes. Her seemingly endless optimism and good humor gave her instructors good reason to comment on her very well, as she had proven very resourceful, reliable and capable. There were few tests she failed, and her motivation to do well was remarkable. She was awarded her spurs, and sent to the northwestern part if the realm, to lend what aid she could in those troubled lands.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Nov 18, 2004 5:13:36 GMT -5
Sharita sits down at a table in the Regal Griffone Inn. She sets a glass of wine on the table, and gazes into the gently crackling fire in the fireplace. Taking quill and parchment from her pack, she begins to write.....
My Lady,
You have asked me to send word on the situation in the Isinhold area of the realm. There is much trouble, but all is not lost. While the roads are unsafe for travel, and evil denizens make their lairs even outside the city gates, there are those who fight against such.
I have had the honor of being invited into the ranks of the Silver Sheilds, a guild dedicated to fighting the evil we face here. They have been rather successful, and this has garned them an enemy. He is a rather powerful mage of the dark sun, and has targeted those of our guild for death. But for the aid of some fine folk in town, I would not be writing this even now. Perhaps his arrogance will prove his downfall, for he did give me his name, and he seeks the name of our commander. He revealed much in the breif time we spoke. Knowledge of one's enemy is a useful thing. I do suspect this mage is responsible for the death of a friend of mine, Jerico of Sune, but I have no proof, yet. Jerico's loss is deeply felt. He was a good friend and reliable comrade.
But I digress. I shall keep you updated as time allows. May the Lady watch over you in all your endevours.
Faithfully, Sharita
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Post by Kolfrosta on Nov 27, 2004 17:21:17 GMT -5
The young, raven haired woman sat at the campfire in Isinhold. The town was empty, not unusual for the lateness of the hour. She gazed into the nightsky and her eyes fell upon what she called the Blessed Circle, the stars of the Lady Mystra. She smiled wistfully and softly whispered "You know I'm doing my best, don't you, Lady?" She sighed and reflect on the past few days. Days with failure and triumph.
Failure. She had never taken it well, inspite of the wisdom to be gained from making mistakes. But in this case the life of another hung in the balance. One of the citizens of Waymoot was missing, gone with a load of wood. She and Renford had agreed to seek for the lad. Their search lead to a cave, and within they found orcs, their hides tougher than most other orcs they had ever encountered. With their friend Tisha, they made their way through the caves, luring the orcs through the carefully laid traps of Tisha's and ambushing them as they rounded the corners. They made steady progress, though each battle was hard won. The orcs were deadly in their aim with their crossbows, and their shamans threw fire and ice seemingly at will. As they felt they were nearing the end, the last group of orcs rushed them, sensing their presence before Tisha could set her traps. Sharita leapt to the defense of her companions, sword swinging and biting into their tough hides. But they were too many, she was soon overwhelmed, and her companions as well. As a last stinging bite of an orc's bolt bit into her flesh, she sank into darkness, the world turned gray, and she remembered no more.
The sounds of owls hooting in the trees, voices seemingly distant, stirred her. She awoke and found herself in the Temple in Isinhold. Tisha knelt in the corner, deep in prayer. Renford, face drawn and downcast, excused himself, to attend to his prayers. Thus it was she walked from the temple alone. Her eyes were upon the ground, but she knew well the path to the bathhouses. She soaked in the bath waters for a long time, her eyes closed, her head resting on the wall behind her. She did not speak to any there. Rising after a time, she made her way to the room she usually took. Tossing her pack in the corner, and changing into her nightclothes, she crawled into bed. As her head hit the pillow, the tears came, unbidden, not for herself, or for her companions, but for the one they had failed to rescue. As she drifted off to sleep, she murmured a small prayer to her Goddess, asking for Her forgiveness and for protection over the one missing.
The next day dawned bright and clear. She gazed out over the town, and decided she would go for a walk. She was not yet in any mood for company. Making her way to the south gate, she made her way towards Redmist. The trip was mostly uneventful. As she passed the waystation of the Purple Knights near to where she had defeated Gruush, an ogre appeared upon the hilltop. Her eyes flashed darkly as she unstrapped her shield and drew her sword. The brute charged at her, but she waited, holding her strike until the very instant he was in range. At that moment she unleashed all the fury, all the anger, all the rage that lay inside. She continued through those hills, and lay waste to any brute that dared make an issue of her passage. As she stood over the body of the last one, she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"Hello lady"
She paused in her fury, closed her eyes and regained her composure. Turning, she regarded Tisha, and managed a smile.
"Hello Tisha"
The two talked for awhile, and since both were heading for Redmist, decided to travel together. Shortly thereafter, Renford of Helm, travelling the same road dressed in his red and gold armor, came upon them. As he too was heading to Redmist, the three of them decided to make the way together. She walked in silence, answering questions to be polite, but kept her thoughts to herself for the most part. Renford mentioned that he had received a dream from Helm, of a terrible evil that must be sought out and destoyed. She thought about the request for help, and agreed to lend aid. They then made their way to an old crypt, one Sharita had not known about.
The crypt was dank, and dark. Rats skittered in the shadows. They made their way down to the second level where the evil was rumored to be rooted. They picked their way through through the crypt, calling upon divine aid and defeating thier foes. They finally made their way to the final chamber, where the evil lay in wait. Sharita had never seen such a one before. Dark, elven looking, with wings sprouting from its back, the source of the evil waited there. It sent forth its minions and unleashed magic of it own. Sharita headed straight for the creature, never giving it a second thought, with Renford close behind. Their swords flashing with holy light, they struck terrible blows on the creature. Arrows sailed over their heads, landing upon their foes as well. Tisha's aim was proving very deadly to their enemy. The creature, fearing to be defeated, turned and ran to its minions. Sharita cussed under her breath, yet gave chase. The creature had run to more of its minions seeking their aid, yet the company was able to defeat all in the room.
Sharita smiled as she reflected on their triumph in the crypt. Victory, a triumph over evil. Yet, in her mind, she knew, they would have to go back to Waymoot and try to find the missing lad....or at least return the lad's remains to his family.
She gazed up at the stars once more. The Lady's stars were still there, shining brightly in the dark sky. She thought upon this image for a while, and knew then what she had to do.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Dec 4, 2004 21:43:42 GMT -5
The young paladin soaked in the warm bath water. The day had been trying, to say the very least. With her eyes closed, she leaned back against the tub wall and reflected on recent events and those with whom she had travelled
Her time spent in Suzail with her family had taken a toll on her nerves. Her father had taken ill, yet, by the Lady's blessings, a cure had been found. She aided the clerics in the recovery of the cure, and they were able to get the restorative to him. But she knew, there would come a day, when both her parents would be going to their rest with the gods. They were getting on in their years. She hoped, however, they would still be living in Suzail for a long time yet. She had helped them move their things to the city, where it was safer. With orcs rampaging the outskirts, they abandoned thier house in the outskirts and had found themselves a small home within the city walls. Once she was certain of her father's recovery, she returned to her duties.
Duty. Her mind travelled to thoughts of her friend, Renford of Helm. Noble and courageous, strong in battle. And to him she was indebted for her life on more than one occassion. She thought it ironic, that one of the few people she really trusted in this realm, was a paladin of Helm. Now, if he would relax a little and have some fun......ah, but duty first, and always.
Duty and Honor. Faith and Hope.
Her thoughts turned to Jerico, Lady Firehair's faithful paladin. Handsome, strong, truly one of Sune's Blessed. Today was the first time she had seen him in a long time. The days passed so quickly. He was with the rescue party that had come to her aid in Urog's Tomb. Jacob, Dontalus and he, led by the warrior Vakka Zan with whom she had agreed to explore the tomb with in the first place, had explored the tomb to it's fullest. She inwardly frowned. Perhaps she would do well to get further practice, to learn not to leave openings in her guard. Shaking her head, she turned her thoughts elsewhere, to avoid allowing her thoughts to travel the dark path they were about to start upon. The Lady Mystra is wise, and She chooses Her Champions well.
And her thoughts turned to the city of Redmist, more specifically, to the Temple located there. A temple where all faiths are welcome who desire to do good in the world. She had been going there often, for they strive to do so much for those who cannot help themselves. Her thoughts then turned to the devout cleric with whom she had travelled with on occassion, yet has come to admire. So few examples of bravery, faith, devotion, and dedication had she met in the realms before meeting Vala De'Vanir. The two of them had searched the crypts outside of Redmist for the seemingly ever-present evil that keeps the dead from their rest. And while they did encounter the one who seemed to be behind the power that keeps the dead walking, he proved to be most elusive. They will have to seek him out in the future. Until that time, she hoped her path would cross Vala's again. It was nice having another woman to talk to on occassion.
Then there is the elf, Halador Amastica. Flighty, seemingly endless good humor. Yet, a good blade to have by one's side in a fight. And he does not seem to be as arrogant as other elves she had met. At least he does not act like he is. Ah well...who can understand elves?
Sighing, she pulled herself up from the tub, towled dry and slipped into something comfortable to sleep in. Taking a small vial of rose petal oil she kept carefully wrapped in her pack, she dabbed a bit to her neck. She may have to wear armor in the performance of her duty, and on occassion the blood of her enemies, but that did not mean she had to give up simple pleasures, such as smelling good, or being a lady, even if only for a little while. She headed toward her room for a nice long rest.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Dec 23, 2004 18:53:44 GMT -5
Sharita made her way to the temple of Redmist, one of her favorite places for prayer, since no temples to the Lady Mystra have as yet been established that she could find anywhere in the realm. She had fought many battles that day, some difficult, some not so difficult, and she had sought to pray to the Lady in thanksgiving for a successful and safe return.
She entered the temple, and reverently walked towards the front of the temple, where she knelt in prayer. The temple was quiet, peaceful.....the soft whispers of the priests floated through the air lending to the feeling of peace and comfort. She prayed, quietly whispering to her Goddess:
Blessed Lady Mystra, I thank you for my safe return. You have watched over me faithfully in all my endevours, and I pray I may continue to prove myself worthy in your eyes. Please guide me along my path as You have always, that I may be Your light in this darkness that has fair Cormyr in its dreadful grasp.
Finishing her prayer, she slowly rose and turned to leave. Yet, standing at the stairs was her friend, Jerico, and Donovan Brunheld, second in command of the Silver Shield. Smiling, she greeted both of them.
Donovan was the first to speak, and after returning her greeting, asked her if she yet wished to be a knight of the Silver Shield. Sharita,caught off guard yet disciplined enough to mask both the surprise, and her inner doubts of undertaking such a strenuous path, nodded solemnly to Donovan, "I do not feel worthy of such an honor, but if you are certain that you wish to grant such an honor to me, I shall strive to prove my worth."
"Could I have the honor of giving the oath to you?" Jerico asked.
Nodding, Sharita replied, "Aye, if you wish.
"Then, kneel before me, place your shield at your knees, and repeat after me." Jerico replied.
She knelt in front of him, placed her shield before her, lowered her head respectfully and reverently and repeated the oath as he gave it to her. At the finish of the oath-swearing, Donovan, Knight of Honor of the Silver Shield, stepped forward.
"Rise, Sharita Amraphen, as one of the knights of the Silver Shield. Let it be known throughout the realm, from this moment forward, that you are now a squire of Sir Donovan Brunheld."
She rose, gazed at each man with her blue-grey eyes, and calmly stated, "I shall endevour to prove myself worthy of the honor you have bestowed upon me."
Turning to Donovan, she said, " I await your first command, m'lord."
Donovan smiled, "Yes, well that will wait. I give all of my squires their first day to themselves. You may do as you please. But for now, I have other duties to attend to, and I shall get your squire's garb to you soon." Bowing, he turned and left Sharita and Jerico alone at the temple.
Turning to Jerico, she grinned "Well, that was a pleasant surprise. I am certainly glad I came to pray in my best robes. Now then, what shall I do on my day off?"
Jerico, smiling, replied, "Well, you could spend it with me. Shall we go to the inn for a drink? Or would you like to return to Isinhold for some rest and relaxation?"
She grinned as she picked up her sheild and slung it over her shoulder, "Aye, you truly are one of Sune's faithful. Somehow I knew you would suggest I spend the day with you, and I am certainly glad for it. As for where to go? Shall we travel to Isinhold? Perhaps there is news to be heard, and if nothing else, I should like to soak in the bathwaters and be refreshed and renewed."
Smiling, they walked out of the temple, side by side, talking about their various travels and deeds, and made their way to the hamlet of Isinhold.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Dec 29, 2004 19:06:34 GMT -5
Sharita sat quietly gazing into the fire at the Regal Griffon. The chair was soft, and comfortable, and as she gazed, her fingers toyed with a small ring she wore on a chain about her neck.
The past few days had been eventful. She smiled. While she still could not recall how she and Jerico had arrived at the temple in Isinhold a few nights past, (though Merriss did mention something about monks), she did remember the conversation she had with him after she had eaten. She had been sitting at the table with her friend Richard Foxfeather, and a new friend she had just met. Richard had gallantly offered to buy her dinner and before she could say a thing, he had ordered her something.
As she finished eating, Jerico came up behind her, and whispered to her asking if he could speak with her in private. Making her farewells, she rose from the table and followed Jerico out the back door.
"Yes? What is it?", she asked him.
"What are your feelings for......Foxfeather.?"
"We are friends, that is all."
"Well...I do not trust he has the best intentions of your well being at heart."
She grinned, "Aye, neither do I."
There was a brief silence, then Jerico spoke again, hesitantly, "I....there is something I want to tell you. I want to pledge to you... my heart."
She gazed up at him, and smiled, "Aye, and..you have mine as well. You have for some time now. But...we both have...duties to attend to....I...did not think...there would be.....time. So, I have said nothing.....until now."
They shared the moment together for a brief time, until, as it always happened, duty called....
The following day, Richard Foxfeather caught up to Sharita as she walked into Isinhold. He said he wished to speak with her on a dire matter, and she agreed to meet him at the inn. Sitting before the fireplace, Richard related to her a recent attack upon himself. Taking a small journal and quill from her pack, she set about jotting down notes of the incident, so she could make a report to the guard. Richard looked up at her from where he sat on the floor.
"Why do you have that book out? What are you writing?"
The look on her face was one of all business. "I am taking notes of the incident. That I might make a report to the guard, or for my own future reference, as I investigate the matter."
"I see....er.....all I really want is...some comforting. I'm afraid, and...and.....", he broke down in tears.
She frowned. "Well, I am certain there are a number of young ladies in town that will be happy to comfort you. But you have brought this matter to me, and it is my duty to investigate it, and turn in my findings to those with the authority to act upon them."
He looked at her through teary eyes, "Are...are you mad at me?"
"No, not at all. But, if you wish to speak of anything but this incident, perhaps our discussion is over."
"But...you ...must understand...I love you. I have deeply fallen in love with you. As I have never loved any other."
Sharita frowned, and gently replied, "I...am sorry...Richard...but....my heart....belongs to..another."
Richard sat there, seemingly stunned. As he did so, Jacob Octivia came striding into the inn, and walked over to them. Hearing footsteps, Sharita looked up over her shoulder, and smiled, "Jacob, tis good to see you"
As Sharita and Jacob spoke, Richard rose from where he was and stormed off...knocking over chairs and such on his way out of the inn. But before he left, he tore his symbol of Sune from his neck, and threw it into the fire.
Jacob looked at Sharita, "So, I see you spoke with him."
She looked at Jacob, "Aye, I did. I...did not mean to hurt him. I ...just...well, I wish it had not gone over so......poorly."
Jacob replied, "Well, I wouldn't worry about him too much. I am sure he will get along just fine."
She looked to the door where Richard had stormed off. "Aye, I do hope you are right."
She continued sitting in the chair, gazing into the fire, thinking also of the events after that.
Of Richard approaching her at the temple the next day. He had offered his apologies for his poor behavior, and told her he was about to embark on a mission to the Zhent Stronghold of which he did not expect to return. And he blamed her. He told her that there was no point to life if she was going to be with another. She had tried to talk him out of it, to tell him that there would be the right person to come along for him, but he would not listen..and he stormed off again. Her heart had sunk, as she felt truly sorry for the young man.
Of her talk with Jacob later, when he told her that he turned down Richard's offer of aid from the Harpers on her behalf. Because he wanted her to be happy. She thought Cormyr could use all the help it could get at this time, and thought the dismissal of the Harpers was a grave mistake. But she said nothing. Jacob was her commander, it was not her place to question his authority.
She sighed, and grasped Jerico's ring tightly in her hand, her gaze never leaving the fire. She truly hoped, that with all the chaos going on around her, here was one person, she could absolutely rely on. To be her rock, her touchstone, her inspiration....and her love.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Jan 8, 2005 9:34:07 GMT -5
The young paladin stood in the hall of the founders gazing at the kneeling statue of a large man, the tip of his great axe sunk into the ground before him. Captain Volmar Amraphen. In all the stories he had told her of his adventuring days, he had never mentioned the Silver Sheild. Perhaps he did not wish to sway her own course, and left this decision to her, to make her own way.
As she stood there, amongst the stautes of the founders, she felt humbled. She remembered the day Jacob offered her the opportunity to join the Sheild. The desire to aid the realm in its time of need led her to accept. To be a part of the protective sheild of the lands was an honor she could not refuse. And since that day she had striven constantly, to be an effective part of that sheild. To lend aid where she could, to uphold justice, to hold back the tide of darkness that was a constant threat.
After a few more moments of reflection, she headed then to Suzail, to seek out her parents' home. Often she had checked in with them, making sure they lacked for nothing. They were getting on in their years, and sometimes were not able to walk to market or to the temple. After seeing to their immediate needs, she sat before the fireplace across from her father, his red hair streaked with gray, his hands gnarled and worn with age, he was a pale reflection of the great statue she had seen in the hall of the founders. Alanna, her mother, sat at her loom, weaving with old gnarled hands, a tendril of once golden hair tinged with the silver of age hanging before her eyes. She wove a tapestry with a scene of the hills of Suzail before the orcish troubles.
Gazing at her father, she quietly said, " You have never mentioned being a part of the Silver Sheilds."
Turning his browns eyes on her, he replied, "So, you have seen the hall. Aye, I was. But it was a long time ago. Before I had even found you."
"Found me? What do you mean?"
Her mother ceased her weaving, setting the shuttle down she came to join the two at the fire.
"Yes, Shari,"she intoned softly as she rested her hand on Sharita's shoulder. "We have been meaning to have this talk with you. But we know your duties keep you busy. We thought to wait for the right time. And now it seems the time is right. You were but a young child when the Lady blessed us with you and you came to live with us. Your father had found you in the ruins of a carvan, all others had been slain. Who your natural parents were, we do not know, as there was nothing at the scene to say."
Her father spoke up, "Aye, whoever had attacked the caravan, took everything of value with them as well as . There was nothing left alive, except you, somehow. It seems the Lady or Lord Torm was watching over you even then. It was by Torm's guidance that led me to travel that day, and it seems He guided me well. Else, we would have never been blessed with you."
"All this time, and you never said anything. Why did you keep this from me?"
"We did not wish to cause you pain, Shari," her mother replied, gently caressing Sharita's shoulder. "You often had nightmares after we found you. You would wake in the night screaming about monsters. We thought it best, to not say anything and help heal the wounds you had suffered inside."
Sharita frowned and gazed into the fire. She tried to remember back to that time, but still, her earliest memories were of watching her father working at his forge, or her mother tending to the ill at the temple. Of picnics with them, and walks in the hills around Suzail. Shaking her head, she looked at both of her parents, and smiled.
"I think it is I who has been most blessed. To have both of you who cared for me, looked after me, and guided me."
Rising from the chair, she embraced both of her parents in turn. "Thank you for telling me. Though, it matters not to me who my natural parents were. You two have been my family, and the best family anyone could have. Perhaps, one day, I shall be as good a mother, as you both have been to me."
Her mother smiled. "You mention family of your own. Usually your stories involve what creature or creatures you have defeated in battle. Is there someone who has captured your heart? Some brave young warrior perhaps? Aye, I remember a time when the same happened to me," she said softly, her loving gaze turning upon Volmar.
Sharita smiled, "Aye, there is one who has captured my heart, a brave young knight, whose heart is of purest gold, and his spirit shines as brightly as his mane of red hair, Sir Jerico Gallen. Perhaps you know of his grandfather, Sir Jeremy Gallen?"
Volmar nodded, "Aye, we served together in the Sheild. A fine man he was, one to rely on at any hour no matter how dark. If his grandson is half the man Jeremy was, you, young lady, have found a treasure indeed."
They continued talking into the night, Volmar telling of his adventures with the Sheild and those he served with, Alanna telling of her meeting Volmar, and Sharita telling of her new found love. The night hours turned to morning hours, and they each very wearily sought out their beds. Sharita curled up on the couch, and fell asleep, gazing into the warm red coals of the once bright fire, her fingers resting on a ring and her thoughts far away.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Jan 11, 2005 5:09:12 GMT -5
The young woman knelt in the temple of Redmist, her heart was heavy. Her prayer was simple, but the choice which lay before her was not. In a soft whispered voice, she prayed to the Lady Mystra, asking for guidance. She was torn in two. One side of her desired to follow her love, and support him in all he did, even if it meant leaving the Sheild. The other, the side of her that knew that duty and honor called her to hold to her oaths, the very oaths she swore before Lord Torm upon her knighting, knew she could not turn her back on the Silver Sheild.
Her whispered prayer went unanswered, and she was not surprised. The Lady left the choice to her, to make her own way. She frowned. Jacob had said in the scene at the Regal Griffon he trusts no one, and that she also walked a thin line. It would be understandable if she were to turn in her emblem. Many would agree she did the right thing, given the circumstances. Yet, deep in her heart, she knew, she could not walk away from her oath, and maintain any sense of honor. Nor, could she turn away from an oath sworn before Lord Torm. Duty, must reign above all, and to abandon such, in her eyes, would be paramount to abandoning Honor.
She looked to the place where she had seen Jerico kneel in prayer many times, and whispered quietly, as to herself, "I am sorry, my love. Though I go without joy, I cannot abandon my Duty, or Honor. May the Lady watch over you in all that you do until I next see you."
She toyed with the ring that hung upon the silver chain about her neck as she quietly left the temple....
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Post by Kolfrosta on Jan 15, 2005 23:02:48 GMT -5
Gazing into the fire in the Regal Griffon, Sharita thought upon the past week's events.
The week had gone by, and she not once had seen Jerico. She missed him terribly, but carried on with her duty. Or rather, she dove into her duties, taking on every little thing which happened, from investigating the murders in Isinhold, Shallybrook, and Redmist, the constant patrols in various areas of the realms, training her squire, seeking information of any kind on Raven Rift, assisting others where ever and when ever she could, sometimes travelling two and three times in a day with various others to places across the realm. She drove herself on, even to the brink of exhaustion, ever trying to not find time to sit, and think. For when she did, her thoughts turned to where they did the most, to the red-maned paladin of Sune who had captured her heart.
She had made her way to the temple of Redmist to resupply for yet another patrol. She spoke with the preist, made her purchases, attended to her devotions, and as she rose, she turned and saw Jerico, knelt in prayer at the foot of the steps. And she smiled. They spoke together, but he seemed distant and cold. Their discussion went to duty, and the things they had done for the past week. And she had learned his duty to the realm had become foremost in importance to him. Dontalus met up with them at the temple as well, and Jerico prepared for patrol with him. Her heart had sunk, he was preparing to leave without her. But for the encouragement of Dontalus, she was sure they would have left without her. The patrol was not a pleasant one. She was quiet for the most part, contending with the feelings in her heart. Not only did Jerico abandon the Silver Shields, he had also abandoned her.
Or so it had seemed. After laying to rest the forgotten knights of Cormyr, cursed to serve the darkness that they had fought against in life, they began to make their way out of the lost temple. She had lagged behind, wrapped in her own dark thoughts for a time. Gazing at the bodies of the fallen undead knights, she wondered if the same fate would await her one day. And would it matter if it did? Turning to the stairs, trying to shrug off the dark shadow that had crept over her, eyes downcast, she noticed a small folded sheet of paper lying in the dust. Curiousity often got the best of her, and she knelt and retreived the note. It bore her name. Opening it, she read one ofthe most beautiful love sonnets she had ever read, written in Jerico's hand. It was dated almost a week ago, two days after he had left the Shield. She carefully tucked the note into her beltpouch, and made her way to the stairs. Perhaps, all hope is not yet lost.
Upon reaching the first level, she came upon Dontalus and Jerico in discussion. Dontalus, heart of gold that he is, was speaking with Jerico about this darkness that Jerico had slid into. Though they talked with him and tried to assure him he was not alone, it did not seem that Jerico was listening to their words.
They had made their way back to Redmist. Dontalus excused himself to attend to some other duties. She and Jerico spoke briefly, and agreed to go the inn for a drink. As soon as she had sat down, a messenger came bearing a summons to the Guild Hall of the Silver Shield. Looking at Jerico, she made her apologies, and asked if they could meet later. He had agreed to meet her in Isinhold at the Regal Griffon.
The meeting was brief. Lady Alusair Obarskyr, the Steel Regent herself, had made the journey to the hall to bestow upon Jacob the signet ring of leadership of the Silver Shield, and had given notice that the Silver Shield once again served the Crown with the Crown's blessing, as defenders of the realm.
Sharita made her way to Isinhold, to meet Jerico after the meeting. She told him of the events at the meeting, of the Regent, and the Silver Shield's new status in the eyes of the Crown. And she also made mention, that Jacob, would like to speak with him. He would be at the inn as well.
The two men spoke, each admitting the errors they had made in the past week's discussion. After a few words, the two men agreed to set aside their differences. And Jerico, accepted his emblem he had turned in but a week ago. She had smiled, he was back with them.
After all the inn's other occupants had made their departures, she and Jerico had retired to the fireplace. Gazing into the fire, they spoke freely, sipping warmed honeyed mead, and their discussion turned to that of the future. Their future. They both had thought often of the idea of sharing their lives. And then Jerico asked her if she would share her life with him. Looking at him, she smiled, and replied, "Aye, it would give me great joy to be able to spend our lifetime together. " Removing the ring from the chain about her neck, the very same he had given her before, she gave it to him, and asked if he would do the honors. He knelt before her, and in a style to rival the greatest bards of the realm, offered her an eloquent proposal. Smiling through tears of joy, she accepted, and he slid the ring upon her finger. They held each other for a long time, both of them having realized that without the other, they would never be at their best.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Feb 11, 2005 13:29:25 GMT -5
The young paladin sat quietly in the Lonesome Tankard Inn, picking at the plate of food before her. Even the mead did not hold much flavor for her at the moment. Running her hand through her hair, she thought upon the many things which tumbled through her mind.
The Silver Shield, what she thought should be the pride of Cormyr, was turning into nothing more than one man's quest of glory for himself. She thought back to the moment by the campfire in Isinhold. Listening to their leader describe the Shield as little more than his personal warband. Her eyes glowered darkly at the memory. For long she thought of the Silver Shield as the one hope for Cormyr, an end to the darkness that gripped her fair realm. A force fighting for honor and duty in an effort to bring light and hope to those of the realm. To protect those unable to protect themselves, to lend aid wherever aid is needed. To be the great shield against the darkness for the people of the realm in these dark times. But many things had changed of late, not the least of which, the darkness which seemed to hold sway with their leader. She thought upon the travels she had taken with him, and the sometimes disasterous outcomes which soon followed. Less and less she favored the idea of placing her life in his hands. She also thought upon a previous time when he was reluctant to even give last rites for a fellow fallen Shield. Of all the things she would not have ever expected, was for a fellow paladin to sidestep their duty. She frowned at the thought, and sipped more of her mead. Something will have to be done soon, lest the Shield fall.
She thought also upon an rather interesting proposal for a new guild beginning to form. She had been approached by the mage, Skippy, during her last visit to Isinhold, who wished to from a group, consisting only of women, which would seek to lend aid against the ills of the realm. While she had not given her decision to join, she was offered the leadership position. She inwardly sighed at the thought. Leadership is an incredible responsibility, and not all can lead well. Being elected, or choosing the title of 'leader' for oneself, rarely equated to being a leader. She thought that a leader must have wisdom, strength, and compassion for those who agreed to follow, that said leader would not lead them into harm or overwhelming odds from which there was no hope of survival. That they would ensure that through training, the odds of survival from even the staunchest foes would greatly increase, using tactics and strategy rather than brute strength. Quite often she had found in her own travels, while she could not outmatch some of her opponents outright, using the terrain and choosing her places of battle could turn the tide of a losing battle. Yet, some choose to wade into the thick of battle, and find themselves falling beneath the blades of their foe. Very few lessons of battle are gained by the dead.....and Cormyr has already enough dead to fill its crypts.....
Sensing her thoughts turning far darker than she liked, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. And turned her thoughts upon another, one in whom she found much joy in these troubles times. A slight smile played across her lips, as she thought upon Jerico, who would soon join her in marriage. His sense of duty, honor, courage and loyalty ever gave her hope that these dark times would not last forever. As Matinus had once said beside the fire in Isinhold, even in the darkest hour, there is always the dawn to look forward to. A time when all things are renewed, refreshed, and the light of day follows shining brightly. She found herself looking forward to Cormyr's renewal, and the thought gave her hope for the coming days, even though they were still in the dark.
Rising from her seat, her meal forgotten, she returned to her room and gathered up her gear. She set off on yet another patrol, yet, this time, her heart was less heavy than it had been of late. This time...it was filled with hope.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Feb 21, 2005 10:35:12 GMT -5
The young paladin walked into the Regal Griffon. Her blue-grey eyes scanned the common room, and found it empty save for the regulars. With more than a slight hint of relief that she could enjoy some quiet reflection, she made her way to her favorite place to think, the chair in front of the fireplace.
Running a hand through her raven-black hair, she thought upon the challenges she had faced over the past few days. She had taken upon herself to test her own leadership abilities, and had led others on patrol to aid those of the realm as needed aid. She sighed upon the thought, for many of those ventures had ended with her waking in the temple of Isinhold, gazing dazedly into Merriss's kind and gentle eyes. Experience had taught her that to awaken within Merriss' care was a bittersweet feeling. While there was the joy of being counted as one of the living, there was also the knowledge that, somewhere, she had met with failure once more.
She knew leadership was no easy task, she thought upon strategies and tactics, studied old battleplans as she visited the libraries of Suzail, but she also new there was far more she yet needed to learn. She then began to think perhaps she had placed too much expectation upon Jacob's shoulders in the past. He had taken the mantle of leadership for the Shield, and though he means well, he sometimes misses the meaning of the heart of the Shield. She, on the other hand, recognized she could not lead a small patrol, let alone an entire chapter. One day, Jacob will step aside, and a new leader will be found, and she trusted the council would choose someone who has that ability and strength of character to guide the Shield with a firm and steady hand, to guide them along the course on a path of honor and service, giving light and hope to all those of the realm. And she found some comfort in the thought, that she would most likely not be chosen for leadership in the future. She knew well her worth was far below what would be required of the Master of Chapter. And she still could think of others more deserving of the honor and the title. Even now she held no power within the Shield, and she realized the wisdom in this as she contemplated her latest failures.
Sighing softly, she tried to refocus her thoughts into a brighter outlook . In light of her recent travels, and recognizing she had much to learn yet, the lack of responsibility within the Shield made the way clear for her to pursue her path to knighthood. In this, she could still work with others, and still try her hand at leading small patrols to gain further insight on tactics. She could still use her healing skills in Isinhold to aid any who happened upon troubles and suffered grave wounds for such,or came under illness or even to offer protections for those who went bravely forth to face their own challenges. She could still offer counsel and advice to any who found their way hidden from them momentarily.
She smiled inwardly as she continue to gaze into the low burning fire in the fireplace. "Always the dawn to look forward to"....wise words.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Mar 8, 2005 16:40:52 GMT -5
She stood over the body of the last remaining orc in the dark cave. There was a sudden movement from her left, a door opened, and in the dim light she could barely make out a dark shape hurling itself towards her. Acting on reflex, she intercepted the attack and slew her next foe in one mighty blow. In the dim light of her sword, she then saw the body of her attacker, lying on the ground in a pool of blood.
"By the Goddess...NO!"
The lad could not have been much younger than she. And she had struck him down. In her fury at the orcs, she had mistaken an innocent for her foe. She stood in shock, and slowly the the full meaning of what she had just done began to sink into her soul. In one fell swoop, she had nullified every oath she had ever sworn, to her Goddess, the Silver Sheild, and even herself.
She sank to her knees, tears filling her eyes. She had nothing with her that could aid him. And though the cave still held many orcs, and she was near to the Chieftain she sought, her heart was no longer in the quest. For there on the floor, lay the blood of an innocent, spilled by her own hand.
She felt numb. Having some presence of mind left, and knowing while carrying the lad's body, she could not fight her foes, she drank of one of the Lady's potions, one which would hide her from enemy eyes. Then, gently picking up the lad's body, made her way out of the cave.
Tears stung her eyes as she made her way to the temple of Tymora, the nearest temple. Gently laying the lad's body down before the Goddess' Altar, she then knelt to pray for the lad, in hopes he may be revived. Quiet chanting was heard behind her, and in the next moment, the hammer of the gods fell down upon her in fury. Rising, she turned to see what had happened. Gothric, preist of Tymora was preparing another divine blast of fury. She made no move of defending herself, for she knew full well, whatever divine fury was about to befall, she deserved. Fearing what remained of the boy would be caught in the blast, she moved outside the temple, with Gothric in hot pursuit. She parried his blows, and took what divine power he threw at her, all the while pleading for him to listen...that she had made a mistake, that she wished to make amends in any way...with any task. But Gothric, filled with righteous fury, would hear none of it. In disgrace, she left Waymoot, and headed to Suzail, where she planned to turn herself in to the authorites, and face what trial and punishment would be demanded. She had committed a greivous crime, murder, and she had to face the penalty.
At the gates of Suzail, the guards confronted her. Already having word of her deeds, they attacked her, not hearing her plea for trial, for plea to make amends. She parried their blows time and again, never once returning thier blows, but seeing the guards would only be satisfied with her death at any cost, she surrendered, lowered her guard, closed her eyes, and awaited the final blow, her last uttered words, "Mystra, forgive me".
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Her eyes opened, and she looked into Merriss eyes.
"What happened?"
"We received word from Suzail. I sent my priests to fetch you from the guardhouse at the north gate of Suzail." He nodded to the holy symbol on her chest, "In respect to your Goddess, we asked if She would restore life to you. It seems the Lady Mystra has some task before you yet."
Shaking her head, she listened to Merriss's words as he told her what had happened, according to the guards.
Frowning, she thanked Merriss, and made her way from the temple. She knew what she must do. She made her way to Suzail once more, seeking the temple in which she felt closest to her Goddess, the one she found was always silent...always empty, yet still, filled with a peacefulness. Though the realm has exacted its punishment on her, her life for the life she took, the darkness of her deed yet weighed heavily on her. She had failed her Goddess, and thus, she must now seek Her Goddess out in prayer, to seek absolution, perhaps even, so she may be able to forgive herself.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Mar 24, 2005 16:47:01 GMT -5
The grove was calm and peaceful. As she sat upon the the log, gazing into the small campfire, she ran her hand through her hair and sighed contentedly, a slight smile crossing her face. The sounds of birds and forest creatures were all around, lending to the sense of calm and tranquility. Finally, after travelling all over the realm in search, she had found the newly established Shrine to the Lady Mystra.
Inspite of all the ills and troubles she faced for Cormyr and its people, inspite of the petty bickering she contended with in Isinhold, inspite of the empty feeling she felt as she missed her betrothed.....inspite of all of this, when she entered this grove, all felt well with her world. The nearness of the Lady's presence calmed her, soothed her pains, eased her concerns, strengthened her faith, and renewed within her, her convictions to stand for what is right and what is good.
Daily she made her visits to the temple, to instill within herself the conviction of her path, that she would serve the Lady Mystra as Her Champion without fail, that she would ever strive to be faithful, strong, courageous, wise and clever in her endevours. She asked these things that she could fulfill her duties to her Goddess, her realm, the Silver Shield, those who would follow her and those who would ask her aid in any matter.
Of all the places of the realm, there were none where she felt more safe than in the grove of her Goddess.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Mar 28, 2005 14:30:10 GMT -5
Breathlessly, she raced through the grove. A messenger, Ben, had sought her out in Redmist, with a summons from the High Priestess of Mystra, Talinnita. Her mind reeled at the thoughts of what could be happening at the temple that her aid was summoned. Had the Cyricists found the grove? Were the Zhents repaying her visits to their temple in kind? Had the frost giants sought to also repay her many forays into their territory?
Panting, trying to catch her breath, she entered the quiet temple. It gave her pause for a moment. It was quiet, no sign of trouble at all. She and Trens, who had accompanied her from Redmist, exchanged glances. Both of them had thought there would be trouble. Trens offered to await her in the entry chamber as she went to speak with Talinnita. Trying to regain composure, she entered into the temple to speak with the High Priestess.
She was greeted with a warm smile. "Welcome, Lady Sharita, I am glad you were able to come so quickly."
"Aye, I came as soon as I heard word. How may I be of service?"
"Well, really there is no need of your service for now. Would you like some tea? Did anyone come with you? They of course are invited as well. We have much to discuss."
Looking relieved there was no danger to the temple, she went and fetched Trens from the waiting area. They followed Talinnita through the temple to the dining area, where Talinnita made a lovely pot of tea, using eucalyptus leaves and some spices Sharita did not recognize. The tea had a soothing peaceful effect, as the aroma filled the room.
"By now I believe you have figured out I did not send for you just for some tea and company. But I do have something for you. For many months, the heads of the Churches of Mystra have followed your actions and deeds throughout the realm. And we have agreed that your devotion and service should not go unrewarded, and to let you know your service has not gone unnoticed."
Pausing a moment, Talinnita moved to a nearby chest, and pulled from it a suit of armor. The Mithril plates shown brightly in the light of the chamber, the gold trim a testimony to the masterful work of the best Dwarven smiths of the realm. "We had arranged to have this made for you, Sharita Amraphen, our noble Champion of the Lady Mystra in Cormyr."
Sharita sat stunned, staring at the beautifully crafted armor. No words would come to mind that would come near to expressing her gratitude. "I...feel deeply honored. I shall continue my service as I may, and try to live up to the expectations of the Lady and Her Church", she replied, still half in a daze at the honor which had just been bestowed upon her.
She tried on the new armor, and it fit perfectly. Trens smiled, "You are most deserving of this honor, Lady Amraphen. And it is my pleasure to be here with you to see such an honor bestowed upon you."
"Thank you Trens, though, I must admit, I feel a bit...overwhelmed."
They spoke with Talinnita a bit further, before they made thier farewells. Sharita was beginning to regain her composure, and she grinned at Trens. "Of course you realize, I now have an extra set of armor for which I have limited use."
"Yes, well, it always helps to have an extra set in case something should happen to the first one."
"Aye, true, but I have no desire to carry an extra set of armor all over Cormyr. And, well, it is something I would like for you to have, if you like. Granted, it is well used, but it still protects well."
"It would be an honor, Lady Amraphen."
Pausing a moment before the statue of Mystra, Sharita gave her thanks to the Lady. Then she and Trens made their way from the temple quietly.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Apr 11, 2005 15:42:06 GMT -5
The temple was quiet on her rising. She had sought shelter in the the Hall of Mystra on the eve of the one day she had looked forward to for many seasons. For this was the day she would wed Sir Jerico Gallen. Her feelings were mixed, both with profound joy and and a twinge of aprehension. She truly hoped all would go well this day. After relaxing in the steam room, and taking a relaxing bath, she felt calmer. Donning the vestments of her order, she made her way into the temple to kneel before the image of the Lady Mystra. On entering, she found her dear friend Liahn, knelt in prayer as well. Quietly, so as not to disturb Liahn's prayers, she took a place before the Lady and began her own quietly whispered prayers, seeking after the inner peace she truly wished to feel. Liahn, finishing her prayers, rose and walked quietly toward the outer chambers. Once feeling her confidence returning, Sharita rose and thanked athe Lady, and noticed Liahn awaited her toward the entry. They exchanged greetings, and Liahn's expression of joy turned to concern. "There is something about which we must speak. I am concerned, about you and Jerico. I fear something terrible may happen to one of you." Sharita sighed, she knew to hope for a day of peace and happy celebration would be too much to hope for. Looking to Liahn, she casually replied, " Tis no secret the Shield has its enemies, and they may see today's event as an opportunity. I have already taken certain precautions." "You don't understand, this isn't about the Shield. It's about you. I fear someone wishes you or Jerico harm. But, I swear, I will give my life to make sure nothing happens to you", Liahn replied, a fervent look in her eye. Sharita smiled, "I certainly hope it does not come to that. But we shall be in the heart of Suzail, the Purple Dragons will be near at hand. It would be foolish for any to try something so bold in that place. And Goddess knows I have enough on my mind as it is." As they made to depart, Sharita paused for a moment, and cast upon herself a ward against death spells, as well as a blessing to draw out the splendor of eagles upon her. She wished to look her absolute best for the one man in the realm who held her heart, and if Liahn's warning proved to be true, she thought it would nice to survive the ceremony. As a last thought, she took from her gear, and handed to Liahn, her twin blades. "If you would, in case anything should happen, wear these and stay close to me. If I have need for them, I feel better knowing they are near at hand." They made thier way to Suzail without incident. Upon entering the Royal Gardens she was greeted by the guests, and her true love, Jerico Gallen. She smiled at him, momentarily at a loss for words. His stunning beauty caught her breath. She knew without a doubt she had been truly blessed not only by her own Goddess, but by the Lady Firehair as well. As the remaining guests assembled, to include Her Grace, the Lady Alusair Obarskyr, they gathered to the place Sharita and Talinnita, Cleric of Mystra, had agreed to hold the ceremony. The morning was bright and clear, the sun played upon the fountains and flowers of the garden in a spendor not to be found anywhere else in Cormyr. Talinnita delivered the traditional Mystran wedding ceremony. As yet there was no apparent trouble, though Sharita could not help but cast glances among those gathered, searching for signs of trouble. Her fears were without warrant, for as they exchanged vows, the Lady Mystra, showered them with blessings as she and Jerico recited their vows to each other. They exchanged their rings, and sealed their vows with the traditional kiss, then met all thier guests wishing them happiness and good fortunes in all the rest of their days. Her heart soared, for now she was, finally, Lady Sharita Gallen. Encouraging the guests to meet them in the Laughing Lass after the ceremony, Jerico and Sharita held back as their guests made their way to the tavern. They spoke quietly, both relieved nothing had gone wrong, and both very happy they were finally one. They then made their way to the tavern, as not to keep their guests waiting overlong. Thier entrance to the tavern was met with cheers and well wishes. The innkeep had provided ample food and drink, and the bards played merrily to the delight of all. Even good friends offered their songs to the happy couple. Only one occurrance briefly marred the celebration, but no trouble was brought to that place, as the uninvited guest made her departure. As the celebration wound down, one of the bards asked to sing a special tune for the newlyweds: Song: Lost In Thought
I don't know what to think, I don't know what to feel. I don't know what is wrong, or if my heart needs to heal.
I can't explain my thoughts, I can't explain my dreams. But each and every one, are tearing at the seams.
I wonder where I'm going, I wonder why I'm lost. I wonder what tomorrow brings, at just what great a cost.
I miss the fire that was there, I miss the feeling of your touch. Alas, I can't express myself, though I want to so much.
Right now, I feel alone and bare, and naught but emptiness. I looked into your eyes tonight, and love seemed so much less.
Sacrifices that we've made, seem so invisible. But I know that we'll make it through, this painful crucible.
I can't explain just what I feel, a loneliness surrounds. And all I want is just your voice, those peaceful, soothening sounds.
I whisper wishes in the night, in hopes that you might hear. But hopes that carry on the wind, to you are nowhere near.
And so I pray a simple prayer, for strength to make it through. I cannot do this all alone, I simply need to just see you.
But now I sit here in the night, my thoughts gone wandering. And I remember that one song, that I won't dare to sing.
I cry in random, dont know why, but I will cry alone. For without you in times of joy, I cannot be at home.
Though she heard low murmurs of how inappropriate this song was for such a happy occassion, Sharita listened to the words and held a high respect for this bard's insight. For as the bard sang, she sang to Sharita's heart, as she and Jerico were often called to the far ends of the realm in their duty and rarely saw each other. Finally, the most of the guests departed, the few left turned to matters of duty and the Shield and the various issues the Shields had to contend with. She sat in her chair, sipping at her mead, and smiled upon the day. It was definately a success. ooc:// credit for "Lost in Thought" goes to DM Bassa, thank you, and all the DM staff, for an excellent day
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Post by Kolfrosta on May 17, 2005 4:34:41 GMT -5
A grim look upon her face, she retired to the Hall. Ill news had reached her ears, and a child was in danger. Entering her quarters, she walked to her cabinet, and removed her hauberk which displayed the heraldry of the Silver Shield. In this matter, she would not be representing the Shield. Taking the hauberk she kept from the days before she became a Silver Shield, she donned it, and stood, looking in the mirror at Lady Mystra's Champion.
The face of the young woman looking back at her was yet unmarred with wrinkle, and her hair was yet the same shiny raven black, no sign of the grey that came with age, but looking to the eyes, those blue-grey eyes which had held so much mirth, while the hint of it was yet there, there was also the shadow of many cares and concerns. The eyes which gazed back at her held within them enough memories that would take most a lifetime to acquire, and she had seen much over the past five years. Turning from the mirror, she made her way to Fran and Frank, gathring such food and drink as she would need for her journey. It way would be long and difficult, and certainly filled with danger, but time was of the essense, she was was seeking after the same as the Cyricists.
Seeing Liahn before her departure, she handed to her all the emblems and items she had of the Silver to hand to others as they would join.
"Safeguard these until my return. If Lady Fortune smiles, I should be gone but a few days, but I shall be back in time for the meeting."
Turning, she boarded the caravan, and began her search........
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Post by Kolfrosta on May 18, 2005 14:42:04 GMT -5
Desolation. It was the only word which came to mind upon entering the city. Having fought through the remains of the army that had beseiged this city, she could well see why the city was laid waste, but this made it no less heart-rending. And somewhere, here in this ruin, was a Mystran priest safeguarding a child. Running her hand through her hair, she sighed deeply. The city was vast and deserted, not even anyone to ask about the priest, or his ward. And so she began, walking through the remains of war, seeking after.....
Thoughts tumbled through her mind as she walked. "Seeking after...what? A child, yet this child, daughter of Raven and Tabatha Rift, is quite important. And what do I do once I find her? There is no "safe place" to take her, better the child be dead than to allow Raven to do as he wishes." "No, protect life, it is your duty." "How do we protect life from one who seeks after godhood?" "Have faith...." "But this child, what future could she possibly have with either of those two? One most likely will sacrifice her to his vile god, while the other would most likely kill the child through inept spellcasting, or worse, upon losing her temper with the child." " You do this because another asked you to...one who wishes to safeguard the child....and you know your duty. And you said you would do it."
Sighing, she realized this was true, she gave her word, and she was holden to it.
After searching for days, however, all she found within that city, was ruin....and no sign of a child or the priest who was protecting her....
((ooc: edited to maintain story integrity on another thread...see Nightmares of a Sunite)
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Post by Kolfrosta on Jun 17, 2005 4:18:30 GMT -5
"A dragon?", she asked, her eyebrow arched in both surprise and curiousity. "Are you certain, Trens?"
"Aye, some farmers had reported seeing a great winged creature near to Eveningstar, it had taken some of their cattle and flew off to the north."
"I see....certainly a matter to look into, though we shall certainly need help."
She sipped her tea quietly, thoughtfully, in front of the fire at the Regal Griffon, recalling the venture they had gone on some time ago. They had travelled into the Stonelands in search of this red dragon, Hierich, Matinus, Talus, Trens, Luthian and she. Rarely did she patrol the Stonelands, its barrenness disheartening compared to the beauty of the rest of the Realm. And beauty was something she had come to hold dear, for its own sake. She smiled, for she knew from where her love of beauty came, from the man who's ring she now wore.
Her thoughts returned to musing over the venture as she gazed into the fire. They searched, and there was one cave in which she had seen what seemed to be the spawn of dragons on one of her previous patrols. After they had searched the entire cave, she commented to Luthian, "It seems, you have finally seen me make a bad decison, Luthian, for the dragon does not seem to be here."
However, twas not long after saying that, her words were disproven, for as they had sought to leave the cave, the dragon, and its spawn, had awaited them by the exit. They had walked into a well laid trap, and it was not they who were the hunters, but the hunted. It had cunningly allowed them to be weakened by the cave's inhabitants then lay in wait for thier exit. The wise course would have been to flee, but in doing so, the dragon would be free to continue to harrass the nearby farms, and it would not be long before it turned its gaze to the cities of Cormyr. There was no choice, in any case, the exit was blocked. They were effectively trapped.
The battle that followed was furious, they each knew they fought for their very lives, and this dragon was moving cunningly, he had divided them, and set upon them his own spawn, his own blood kin, and they were unlike any dragon she had ever seen before. Taking quick stock of the situation, seeing the others taking on the dragon itself, she set to seeing to the dragon's allies. Though they were a lesser threat, if they could be defeated, they could all concentrate on defeating the dragon.
Her blade cut deep time and again, the battle wore on, Matinus keeping the dragon occupied, and them alive, with the divine holy power of Lathander, Hierich's mighty arm swung and his blade biting deep into the dragon time and again, Luthian and Trens, fighting bravely, ever a credit to the Shield in their courage and perseverance, Talus, unleashing spell after spell upon their foe.
After a long and seemingly endless battle, the dragon lay at their feet, Hierich delivering it a final killing blow. Even though they were covered in the blood of thier opponents, tired, aching from various wounds, they smiled, and laughed, for they knew the good thing they had done. The greed, arrogance, and distrust of this dragon became apparent as they had found its treasure trove nearby. This dragon did not allow its hoarde to be out of its sight for long. Searching through the dragon's treasure trove, Matinus gave pause, then called Sharita over to him. He had found some interesting things. Lying in a chest, its blade untainted by rust or even the slightest hint of dirt, was a sword. Matinus, drew forth the sword, and looked thoughtful. "I think this belongs to you. As you had led us here, it seems this sword had called you to it, Lady Sharita." She was stunned. Never had she thought to lay eyes upon such a blade, but as she reached for it, it began to emit a holy light. This blade has indeed called to her. Humbly, she accepted it, and offered her gratitude to the others for thier aid. Turning, she walked a bit away from the group, knelt, and offered her thanks to her patron, the Lady Mystra, for revealing this hidden artifact.
Other things they had found as well. Things not so holy, nor were they good tidings for Cormyr. This dragon, had within it the blood of demons. Its spawn, displaying half dragon-half demon traits as well. And within one of the chests, they had found....orders. As they made their way back to Eveningstar, they discussed this finding. Each of them turned the questions over in thier minds, or even voiced them at least once.
"What has the power to command dragons? And how is it they are being bred with demon-kin?"
Quietly, she took another sip of her tea, and realized she had already finished it in her musings. And still, those two questions remained unanswered....
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Post by Kolfrosta on Jun 19, 2005 17:23:45 GMT -5
She knelt in the Hall of Mystra before the Lady's image. She came here often be it to give tithes or worship or both. But on this day, she came seeking comfort, and ease to her mind and heart that had been elusive the past weeks.... My Lady, guide my path. Steel my heart for that which I may have to face, Strengthen me with the courage I shall need in the coming days, Guide my hand and my heart, That I shall bring only honor to You. Ever is my blade Yours to bend to your will. In You have I ever placed my faith and trust, You have never failed me, nor shall I ever fail you. She rose, drew her blade, and gave a crisp salute to her Goddess. Then quietly made her way to Isinhold. Perhaps there had been word..... Days had dragged on, and she had seen little difference between night and day. She felt as she walked in an everpresent darkness. Though she walked the realm, and she held to her duty, providing the strength of leadership the Shield needed in this time as best she could. Yet she felt no joy, only an emptiness...a void....brought on from not knowing what had become of her beloved. And yet, there was no word.... Yet word did come, from an unexpected direction, and the word was heeded, for with haste did she make her way to the north of Suzail, a slow anger building, rising with each step, blinding her to all but her goal, and as she drew near to where she knew he was, she paused, and knelt, and prayed once more to her Goddess, for strength, for steel, for courage, for....him. And Keetena, who had followed along the way, had finally caught up. The two entered, and encountered the forces of Urog. He had prepared, and prepared well, but there was little that would stand before the enraged paladin bent on her purpose, the path of undead, of demons, of abominations that hurled spell and swung blades, all fell before her divine fury. They were soon joined by Gial and Garistan, thier aid was welcomed, though she wasted little time with pleasantries. For the longer they delayed, the longer Urog held the greatest treasure of the realms from her.....and he would pay. Into the main chamber they made their way, nothing stood before them, all that faced them fell, and her rage built as she drew closer. And then she saw, on the dias, the altar, her love....tormented, beaten, hounded by Urog's abominations.....she was blind in her fury, she raged through the room, her focus intent on her quarry, and she raged "Where is he?!" As the last of the walking dead near him was destoyed in her fury, she looked to where he lay....and he was gone... "Urog! I have come for you !! This day you shall fall!!! And no power of yours shall end me!!" And there was Urog, in the doorway, gloating over his deed, smug in his accomplishment, overconfident that he had already one soul he sought, and determined to have the second he craved.....he spoke, he made mention of having something she needed, his words ended as her companions lept to strike him...he vanished, they pursued, his minions blocked their way brielfy, they fell, and her rage carried her....all the way to him..and she did not pause, did not listen.....she charged him as he hurled more tortuous spells upon her love.... She swung mightily, not with the practiced grace and style she prefered, blow after blow, hewing the lich until it moved no more. And there was her beloved, surrounded in fire, engulfed in it, scarred, beaten. She looked to him, and saw none of the devastation that Urog had done to him, she saw him as she always had, the man to whom she had given her heart, for this life and the next. She looked to his remaining eye, and held the depths of his soul, beautiful as it had always been, the part of him that had captured her heart. His inner beauty, lying there, waiting to be recovered from the torment his spirit had carried him through. And she smiled, for here was the one in whom she found joy in the realm, the one she swore would go through the hells for, the one who caused the days to hold beauty and joy, whether he was near or far. She found within her the strength she asked the Lady to give, she directed the others in their course, Gial and Keetena to clear the way of any of Urog's remaining forces, Garistan to keep watch behind them and she, with her dearest leaning upon her, guided him from the darkness, and into the light...
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Post by Kolfrosta on Jul 20, 2005 18:30:21 GMT -5
Smiling, she bid Trens farewell as she made her way from the hall. As she walked to the gate, she thought about the man they had found within the walls. He had stayed hidden in shadows, and but for the potion she drank before they entered the keep, they would not have seen him. He had said he was looking for information. She shook her head. So many sought to enter the Silver Shield Hall of late without invitation, as if there were some great secret to be found.
Passing through the gate, she nodded to the guards and headed for Isinhold. As she stepped through the wood along the path, she heard a small snap, followed by the telling pain of a trap that had sprung. She cussed mildly as she reached for her blade, but as she did so, she found she could not move. The pain only increased, and she could see out of the corner of her eye, movement, a blade, which then struck and her world turned grey......
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She felt someone shaking her. She was lying upon something hard, and she felt, uncomfortable. She stirred, and tried to run her hand through her hair, but found she could not move either hand. Opening her eyes, she looked and saw the red and black helm of the man from within the Keep walls. Glancing quickly above her head, she saw that her wrists were bound in manacles. Her eyes flashed angrily as she demanded to know what was going on. And a chuckle came from under the helmet.
"Now, is that any way to speak to your host? I hope you find the accomodations to your liking. Oh, and try all you like, those are made of the finest Damarskaran steel. Quite unbreakable...."
She frowned, "What do you want?"
He went on to tell her of who he was and what he did, which was to acquire various items, or information, or, as he pointed at her, people. He continued by asking a few questions of her, his hands playing over the crank at the top of the rack to which she was bound. She answered, as she saw no threat in the questions, since they were not concerning the realm, or the Shield, but a personal matter she had looked into sometime ago. He then informed her that her acquisition, was one in which he was very well paid. He then excused himself, as he had some people to go discuss...business with.
"Ah, but,I think I will need a couple things of yours, before I go." Reaching to her hand, he removed both her signet ring and her wedding band. "After all, without these, who would believe the great First Knight Sharita Gallen was fallen? By the way, lovely wedding ceremony, I did rather enjoy it." Chuckling, he made his departure.
After he left, and she heard the door shut, she pulled with all her might at the manacles holding her. But it was as he said, useless. She could not even try to slip her hands through the manacles and out, they were too snug against her wrists. Sighing, she gazed to the ceiling, and uttered a small prayer. Mystra had warned her of troubles ahead......but she had no idea if this was what the Lady had referred to.
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to be continued..>
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Post by Kolfrosta on Jul 21, 2005 14:50:42 GMT -5
Time passed slowly. She was not even sure how much time had passed, as the room had no window to reveal if it was night or day. She had counted the tiles set in the ceiling and the walls a few times already....each time she came up with the same numbers, nine hundred forty four tiles in the ceiling, one thousand two hundred forty in each wall next to her. The walls themselves, showed signs that perhaps other guests were not as well treated, the stone bricks showing in the dim light the rust red tint of dried blood. The Iron Maidens standing in the corners showed signs of previous use as well. And it was quiet. Rarely was there a sound. The air was stale. There were times she wondered if they had forgotten her, and her stomach reminded her it had been some time since she last ate. Her throat was parched, and she found herself drifting in and out of fitful restless sleep.
When she was awake, she had plenty of time to think. Who hired him and why? What was to become of her? How long before Jerico found her? And upon thinking this, her thoughts turned to him, and the hope she sometimes felt slipping away renewed itself, for she knew he would be searching for her.
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The door opened and her host entered, carrying with him a plate of food and a bottle of warmed honeyed mead. Waking her, he asked if she was hungry. She replied she was, but she eyed the food warily. After asking him to sample it first, he replied that they would play a game. She grudgingly agreed.
The game was quite simple, he would ask a question, she would answer, and if the answer was "correct" he would sample some of the food he brought. Seeing little other choice, she agreed. He asked of her, why some called her 'princess' and what she thought her life would be worth. This question gave her pause. She had never thought about it before. Then she realized....perhaps he sought ransom for her. And thus she answered that most any price he would ask would most likely be met.
His questions then turned to the Shield, and their associations. She replied, not wanting to reveal the Shield's strengths or weaknesses, "I will neither fail nor betray those of the Silver Shield."
But he merely laughed to her response, and boasted, "I feel, even if I have caught only the second of command, I have severed the head of the Shield. Your Shield runs about the countryside attacking everyone they think may be involved, even though they have nothing to do with this. They run here and there, and they do not even know where you are. Aren't you happy now you disbanded your Inquisitors? Not only is your Shield blind, they are deaf as well. You had the best inquisitors, don't you think?"
She frowned, and the look on her face showed she agreed, she was against the idea of disbanding the Inquisitors, as she was the one that had set them to their tasks, the very tasks that gave Jerico cause to disband them. She merely replied, "Aye, she was the best in the realm."
As they spoke, he pressed bites of food to her mouth, and she ate, forgetting her suspicions as the conversation continued. He also offered her the mead, though, it was this one time she found little joy in it, but rather the liquid helped somewhat to quench her thirst. He asked of the Harpers, and at this she hesitated, and stopped answering. He then offered her a trade, that he would give her news of what was happening in the realm, if she would answer his questions regarding the Harpers. And while she had hoped for word of the realm, or her husband, she knew she could not betray a confidence, and she remained silent.
He smirked, and a glint shown in his eyes, "Well, my lady, I really do not want to do this, but I must." He then drew a dagger from his belt, and approached her.
"Fiend!", she glared at him, defiantly, and showing no fear, nor was she going to give him the satisfaction of pleading for her life.
But he only reached toward her hand, and with the dagger, cut her finger, drawing her blood into a vial. Bandaging up the cut, he then took his dagger, and removed a lock of her hair. He then bid his farewell. She asked what he intended with her blood and hair, but he refused to answer. The door closed and she could hear the tumble of the lock within the door clicking into place, leaving her alone with her thoughts, and questions, once more.
to be continued...
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Post by Kolfrosta on Jul 25, 2005 14:43:34 GMT -5
Hours, or were they days? She lost all sense of time in that place. She had long since stopped feeling hungry or even thirsty. But sleep, this was what she wanted....just to sleep....
The door creaked opened and in came the caretaker. She had cleaned up Sharita, gave her some water to drink, and something to eat. Offered pillows, and a blanket, which were accepted. Then she offered some words. She told Sharita that she was held here, for her own safety, that there were those who desired to have her sacrificed, to cement an alliance between those of Shar, and those of Bane. That no one knew she was held here, and that was for the best. And it was very important that no one find out. When Sharita asked if the manacles could be removed so she could move about abit, however, she was denied, and told they could not have her wandering about, someone may see her, then all would be lost. With a deep sigh, Sharita looked once more to the ceiling. It was beginning to look as though she was to be held for a very long time. At that, the caretaker heard others nearby, and bidding a hasty farewell, left the room. The door clanged shut, and the lock tumbled into place once more, and Sharita's hopes faded with the light that had come from the doorway. She closed her eyes once more, having nothing else to do but try to sleep....and forget about where she was......
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Talinnita, High Cleric of the Church of Mystra, was tending to the plants in the Temple of Mysteries. She walked among the many plants in and around the fountain, then looked to the feet of the Statue of the Lady of Mysteries. She frowned a bit. Rarely was Sharita overdue with her tithes, and she had been stopping by at the end of each ten-day to deliver them and attend to her devotions. Yet, over two weeks had passed..and she had no word or seen the gift left in its customary place. Concern led Talinnita to look to the fountain. After uttering a few words, making a few gestures, she gazed into the pool of water, searching for the Lady's Champion, as she sometimes did out of curiousity. But all that was revealed to her, was darkness...and shadow. Frowning, she turned then to the Statue of the Lady, and knelt in reverent prayer...calling for aid...for one of Mystra's children was in dire need. Long she knelt there, and called to Mystra, when after a while, a soft shimmering blue-white light appeared in the room. It grew until it was the size of a young woman. The shimmering light then floated gently to the ground, near to where Talinnita knelt. As the light dimmed, Talinnita could see it was Sharita, sleeping soundly though very pale, and worn, her wrists reddened and raw from the manacles that bound her. Picking her up, she carried her to the guest room, and tucked her into bed. Closing the door softly behind her, she went to give praise to Mystra, for restoring what was lost.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Sept 3, 2005 8:20:12 GMT -5
Running her hand along the finely carved wood of the desk, she looked around the room thoughtfully. Never had she been in here alone, without her husband. Sighing softly, she went to the cabinet, retreived a bottle of wine and a glass, then turned and settled into the highback chair in front of the desk. The Hall was quiet. Save for the occassional footsteps of the guards or caretakers, nothing was heard. She smiled wistfully as she poured the wine.
Never had she wanted these quarters, nor the responsibility that went with them. Fate had other plans. Jerico's effort had been noticed by the Crown. And thus he was invited to join the Diplomatic Corps of the Royal Ambassador as his personal body guard. Sharita smirked a bit at the political maneuvering. With Jerico restored once again, any who would be difficult for the Ambassador to deal with, would be hard pressed against Jerico's charm, wit, and beauty. And if any meant harm to the ambassador, Jerico's power in his Goddess, and skill with blade, would see to the Ambasador's safety, no matter where in Toril they would go.
Which left the Shield looking for a leader once agian. She tried to convince the Shield of Trens' worth, but they wouldn't hear of it. Thier minds had been made up before she even made mention. Taking a sip from the wine glass, leaning back in the chair, her eyes fell upon the paperwork upon the desk. She inwardly sighed. More here then what she liked. Granted, one parchment of paperwork she found plenty, let alone one pile. Taking another sip of wine, she leaned forward and began looking through the missives waiting for her attention. Guard requests, patrol reports, Hall maintenance reports...(Did Frank really need two hundred bottles of Finest Cormyrian Brandy?). Dry reading, but as she leaned back in her chair, out of the corner of her eye, her armor gleamed upon its stand. Her blade, crafted by Moradin and blessed by Mystra, hung sheathed, waiting for her hand to once again guide it in defense of the realm, and its people.
Finishing her wine, she set the papers down, signed a few of them for Taley to take care of (She decided Frank would have to manage without the brandy) and went to her armor. Her thoughts went to her husband who had led the Shield against the enemies of the Crown when she went missing as she donned her armor. She remembered the tenants they had set when he led them. Duty, Honor, Hope and Life: these traditions they had founded, would not end with him. The Shield would continue in light, for the good of those of the realm who could not defend themselves. A she girded her twin blades about her waist, she thought upon the Banites. They had grown bold of late, even deceiving one of the Shield, and her own squire no less, into the fold of darkness.
This will be answered for. Taking the highly polished shield and strapping it across her back, she made her way from the Hall.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Dec 11, 2005 18:33:07 GMT -5
Gazing about her quarters as she finished packing her things, she thought upon the last few days.
Her patrols had taken her to Arabel, and the areas near to it. The orc army still plagued the hills, and thier forces were strong even though they were scattered. As she passed the Purple Dragon Outpost on her way to Eveningstar, she was hailed by a figure cloaked and hooded. He was brief, and to the point. She was summoned to the Royal Gardens at the end of the ten day, and was expected at midday. Making thier farewells, she continued her patrol after assuring him she would be there at the appointed time.
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The days passed, and the time came for her to answer the summons. Making sure her armor, and herself, was spotless, she made her way to the Royal Gardens. Two things concerned her on her journey. Given the incident in the Thayan Enclave, and that Glewein was involved, she wondered as she approached Suzail, if she was answering an arrest warrant. Also on her mind, were the allegations in Redmist, and reports of Shields attacking innocent people. Sighing, shaking her head, she knew there was only one way to find out. Running her hand through her hair, she continued, wondering what fate lay ahead.
She arrived at the heart of Suzail, and was greeted by Delinard, the Purple Dragon stationed outside the courthouse. He escourted her to the gardens, where she was given instruction to wait. Nodding as he departed, she turned, and gazed to the stone circle nearby, a wistful smile crossing her face as she remembered her wedding day. And she waited, giving her armor a cursory look over, making sure all was in order.
Horns blared, and the herald called out the arrival of Her Grace, Lady Alusair Nacacia Obarskyr. Sharita bowed on seeing her, and waited to hear her words. Accompanied by a squad of Purple Dragon Knights, the Steel Regent made her way to Sharita. Inwardly, Sharita's heart sunk. It seemed she was about to be arrested. But she maintained a calm demeanor, and waited, as discipline demanded, to be addressed by her sovereign.
Lady Obarskyr looked at Sharita thoughtfully. She told of the troubles of the realm, and the need for those with compassion and strength, to aid the troubles Cormyr will face. She then asked Sharita, if these things, she could do. Sharita replied that it was what she has always tried to do. The Regent nodded, then called her forward and asked her to kneel. Sharita complied, and was knighted as a Purple Dragon Knight of the realm.
But this was not the only action of the Crown this day. After knighting, Sharita was also given other word. Given the international incident with the Thayans in their enclave, and the presence of one of the Shield, it was decided that the Silver Shield be disbanded. Their Hall was to be locked, and the whole of the compound reclaimed by the Crown, to be used as a Purple Dragon Outpost. Sharita stiffened at the words, then nodded, and replied she understood, though she felt as if a blade had passed clean through her.....
The Regent continued. Sharita was to be the commander of this new outpost, and while the old Silver Shield would no longer be recognized by the Crown, Sharita was free to call upon them in time of need. Also, the Crown would look for those to serve with her, to help her as was needed, and assign new Purple Dragons as they could be found.
Bowing and taking her leave when dismissed, Sharita made her way to the Hall, to retreive her possessions.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Jan 27, 2006 16:24:30 GMT -5
The logs in the fireplace crackled and popped, the fire casting a dim soft light in her new quarters. It was the only light in the room. It was a matter of choice, for there were plenty of torch sconces on the walls, but she chose the darkness for this time of quiet reflection. It seemed suitable. It had been months, and yet she still struggled with her failure with the Shield. For Honor they had fought, as was thier Duty, for nothing more than that they could bring Hope and Light to the realm. And, with but a word from the Crown, which they had served faithfully for all those years, for much even of her own carreer, all those dreams of the well-being of Cormyr were shattered.....
Sighing softly, setting her glass of wine on the desk, she turned and gazed into the fire. So much loss....her husband, her friends, her family....her honor. Darkness continued to rise in the realm...and there was no longer a force to rely on to stand against it. And here she was, drafted to a cause, assigned to one of the remotest areas of the realm, in an empty outpost....
Well, it wasn't completely empty. The Purple Dragons under her command were a fine unit, the Royal Corps of Monster Hunters, Thunderstone Unit. Their duty was clear, to safeguard Cormyr against the humanoid tribes that threaten the realm, and the folk within it. Not unlike the goal of the Silver Shield. Yet, there were those who had cast mistrust upon the Purple Dragons...and even some were bold enough to say as much to her face. She knew very well, there were most likely many who would say the same behind her back.
Her fingers tapped lightly on the arm of her chair. Her other hand ran its familiar course through her hair....any who knew her well, knew on seeing this she was deep in thought. But there was no one here to see.....
As she thought, her eyes fell on a small journal. Taking it, turning the pages slowly, she read the written words of a young paladin, full of hope for the future, faith in her Goddess, and devotion to the realm of Cormyr. As she read, her eyes welled with tears. "Where has this young paladin gone?", she wondered quietly. Setting the journal down she turned her head to her right, and saw there, in the dim light, a shadowed visage in the corner. Furrowing her brow, she rose and approached it. As she approached, the light from the fire shown upon her, and then the visage was clear. It was her, her own image cast by her own mirror, wrapped in darkness.
Warmth, perhaps from the fire, perhaps something else, caused her to look down and toward her hand. A ring, the diamonds sparkling in the firelight with a red-orange glow. Closing her eyes, an image comes to her mind...and long unheard words rose to the top of her memory.....
"My Light of Cormyr."
With tears rolling down her cheeks, she gave a small smile.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Jul 10, 2006 15:13:19 GMT -5
Sitting quietly in her study, surrounded by some of the books and tomes she had collected over the years, her eyes fell upon one small leather-bound journal, covered with a light film of dust. Opening the journal, she paged to the end, and realized it had been some time since she last found the time to write. Moving over to the desk, she took quill in hand, and began penning down the various notes of recent events in the familiar bold flowing stroke which filled the previous pages.
My hope of Cormyr, my strength, my husband is finally returned from his long journey in service to the Crown. I recall the day I first saw him, standing in the Regal Griffon. Even though rumor had prepared me for seeing him once more, it was as if looking upon a ghost, a dream. As I had hoped for those years he was gone that he would return, as my eyes fell upon Sune's own champion, they would not believe, until I had crossed the room and embraced him. My heart flew, and the joy I once knew within is returned.
The Royal Corps is growing, slowly. I have the honor of leading the finest Knights of the realm, though they are truly deserving of one more capable of leadership. I pray for Mystra's wisdom and guidance in leading them, for there are none more bold, honorable, nor more dear to my heart, than these Knights with whom I serve.
As circumstances would have it, I have been able to purchase a home, and as odder circumstances would have it, it was remodeled and furnished by a drow of the name of Jathiir. We first met in a crypt being overrun by members of the household Valdren, which he was with, seeking to gain entry to Suzail for the sake of war. After we battled to a draw, neither side being able to gain advantage of the other, we called a truce and we spoke. He asked for parley, during which time he offered to help me close the portal through which the gathering drow army in Skullport hoped to enter Cormyr. Against my better judgement, and wary of any trickery, I agreed. It was his hope, by closing this portal, and defeating any drow which had gotten through, he could win his freedom from his life of servitude to House Valdren. To my admitted surprise, he did indeed provide the means to destroy the portal, and end a threat to the realm.
After further discussion, Jathiir asked for aid, and sanctuary, in what is a treacherous realm for those of his race. I agreed, though I had no place for him to stay. After making some inquires, I learned of property for sale in Isinhold. I made the proper arrangemeents, and then purchased the home. Jathiir took charge of the remodelling, and I must say the Gondsman Jathiir lived up to his patron.
However, as Jathiir's identity was discovered by my dear friend Glewein, I had to make a choice, to turn Jathiir out of the house, or to lose a dear and trusted friend of many years. It was with heavy heart, that I asked Jathiir to leave for his own safety, and made suggestions as to where he would find peace. I wished him well in his travels, though I have had no word of him since he left. His quarters, I have locked, and will remain just as he left them.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Oct 2, 2006 16:59:17 GMT -5
After a pleasant evening of meeting new folk to the realm, discussing at length the trials and tribulations faced by Isinhold, and well as answering a few questions from folk interested in joining the Purple Dragons, Sharita returned to her house, looking forward to some quiet reflection and warmed honeyed mead.
As she approached, a small piece of parchment stuck to the door drew her attention. Taking the note she read it over, frowned, and entered her house. A few moments later she emerged, pack slung over her shoulder, and made her way to the caravan, a grim look upon her face.
As she made her way through the streets of Suzail, she was greeted by an old family friend, Branston, who many years ago had suffered Shari's raids upon his apple orchard when the two families lived next to each other. He looked at her sadly, then delivered the news he had: Sharita's parents had passed away. They were both found in the family home, apparently having died in thier sleep.
The lady paladin staggered a bit at the news, the thoughts of her purpose in Suzail momentarily set aside....she raced through the streets to the family's house near the docks. Bursting through the door, finding various friends of Alenna and Volmar, each in mourning over the passing of the old couple, the shock of the news was finally driven home. She was guided upstairs, where they yet lay, waiting for the priestess of Mystra to arrive from Shallybrook.
She knelt next to the bed, her head bowed as she took her mother's hand in hers. She said nothing, though the tears which streamed down her face spoke volumes.
After a time, she whispered softly, looking at each of them, "All the power Mystra has granted, and yet....there are some things which I am powerless against. May the Lady Mystra keep you ....until the day comes....when we meet once more in her Hall....". She gently kissed each upon their foreheads, wishing them safe journeys into the next life, and made her way downstairs.
She met the Lady Talinnita, cleric of Mystra, at the door, and discussed arrangements quietly. The old family homestead, now abandoned on the road to Marsember, would be the final resting place for thier ashes, the Mystran ceremony would be conducted there, their bodies to be consumed by the holy fire of Mystra...
Within the day, the funeral was held, as was the ceremony. The lady paladin stayed long after both, however, watching over her parents' ashes as the wind and rain did what it does over all the realm.....to cleanse...to purify....the land. Once all trace of thier ashes were gone, she looked to the heavens once again, and wished a gentle farewell....
Turning to the gate of Suzail, with heavy heart...she continued on to her outpost in Thunderstone, but before leaving she left instructions to Branston, all that was theirs, was to be distributed as per their wills..and anything left, to be sold and the coin donated to those in most need.....
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Post by Kolfrosta on Oct 6, 2006 14:27:23 GMT -5
The setting sun lit the Wyvernwater in a dazzling display of reds and golds. A soft breeze tossled her hair as she stood, gazing out over the river, yet not really seeing it. Her mind was turned inward, and her thoughts were far from where she stood. Those passing by on the river ferry, saw only a single solitary figure, the setting sun coloring her armor in gold, yet its brilliance was shadowed in the dark cloak she wore.
"You must leave Isinhold....something terrible is going to happen, and unless you have your entire squad of Monster Hunters...... "
"Shari....it is both good and painful to see you after all these years. I was about to send word to Isinhold. I have dread news...your parents......"
"Isinhold is fallen, the people grumble "Where are the Purple Dragons?....."
"There is no escape"
The last thought sent a shudder through her being. The dreams had started again, with more fervor, and they were as clear as the first day she had set foot upon the path which has haunted her dreams since. Perhaps it was that she was in mourning, she did not know for certain. But she did know that, now, she needed time. She only hoped the realm would forgive her for her absence.
Taking a deep breath, she looked out over the river, the the dark entry to the Hullack could be barely seen in the distance....
Tall dark hands stretch upward from the ground...reaching to a sky that does not exist, or cannot be seen.....the gate...the entry....she passes through.....she comes to a stone...a marker...a fallen celestial....he led his forces of celestials into the very pits of the hells to wage war against evil.....he lost them all...they followed out of loyalty...or devotion..to the cause..to their leader....he brought them all to death. For his sins he remains..a servant of those he fought against...she enters ...he is there...knelt in prayer....she moves forward....her mind screams to stop.....yet she cannot....she kneels...she takes...his place.
The throne room....the screams...can yet be heard....the souls of the damned...they stand there...taunting...both of them.....Lords of this place.....in the lowest of places...she stands...defiantly....with the courage that comes from knowing there is only death and and honor at stake to face it well...knowing there is no escape.....she faces....his servant.. herself....she stands with pride...her faith is strong...the duel begins....neither can get the upper hand....block parry dodge strike..they are evenly matched..and rightly so....a feint...and a parry...and cold steel slides into her ribs...a sneer...her hand on the hilt of the blade which has run her through....her opponent stands over her..a foot on her chest..as she wrenches the blade free.........darkness.....
The gentle breeze yet tossled her hair. The warmth of the sun faded as the sun set and all was cast into the pale white light of a softly glowing moon, the river's water turning from gold to silver....her armor gleamed silver in the night.
"There is no escape."
She rested her hand on the hilt of her blade. She looked out over the river, that led to the heart of the realm she loved. A realm she would give up her life to protect.
For Duty..For Honor....For Hope....For Life.
Though she must tread the rest of her days without hope....she would do what she could, to help others maintain hope....
Without a word....she headed along the road. Just to walk. To find.....peace.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Apr 16, 2007 15:27:07 GMT -5
Quietly she shut the door behind her, the bustle of Isinhold, the sounds of adventurers telling tales of their deeds or rounding up others to explore areas of the realm she had seen many times before, dimming behind the solid oak door.
She walked casually and comfortably through her home, pausing to admire the staute there, and the small shrine, dedicated to her Goddess Mystra. She then started into the kitchen to set the kettle on the fire, and brew the last of the green tea Manshin had gifted her with.
As she returned to the living room, she noted on the shelf the old red leatherbound journal, collecting dust. Blowing the dust off the cover, and opening to the last page, she noticed she had not written in a very long while.
A soft sigh, "Has it truly been so long?", she thought.
After returning from the kitchen to make the last of the tea, she settled comfortably in the chair by the fire. Setting the tea on the small table she picked up the journal, and her quill, and began writing.
So much has passed, and I barely know where to begin. My last days with the Purple Dragons, were long, sometimes a day would last into the next, and with folk still yet waiting to speak with me. There never seemed enough time. Then again, time is not something one will ever have enough of.
I truly regret, not being able to do, as much as was asked where it was needed, and in the end, bringing about my own "retirement'. Though I will stand by my final letter. A line must be drawn, for when goodness and righteousness stands aside to let evil have its way, it is in itself, aiding the tides of darkness. Never can there be a time that we allow those of darkness to be placated to justify the means to an end. Nor should one person have to be sacrificed for the sake of many. There is always a way, even if finding it, its not convenient and makes demands upon oneself. Even small acts are of note, and there is not one good soul who is not worthy of having a full and happy life.
I have shed my blood and tears for those of the realm for my full carreer, and I will continue to do so until my last breath, however it may come, as any knight of the realm should and would gladly do.
The face of the realm has changed. Redmist has rebelled against the Crown with Thayan and Black Hand aid. The Crown, in its wisdom, yielded to the demands of Redmist, and granted it free of Cormyr. Isinhold in turn, has declared itself independant of Redmist and its jurisdiction, however, we stand yet alone, awaiting to Crown to recognize our small town and province. Until that time I will satisfy myself with my seat on the town council, though I have yet to receive word exactly what the position entails...
Other than that, life has been pleasantly quiet. Kelric is the senior officer of the Royal Corps under Faril. Perhaps now Oversword Faril will be more pleasant to speak with, though I have reservations of that hope.
For myself, I have had time to return to the role of knight errant, much as I was when I began my carreer. Fortunate that I enjoy travel, seeking out new places, and discovery of new lore. I had opportunity to explore the Hullack, on my own for a change, and found it to be full of challenge and opportunity to hone my skills. Though I will admit, the roads and paths get long and weary, without companions.
But as to that, they have thier duties, of which I well understand. My hopes and prayers ever go with them, when my blade cannot.
On another note, I did recently have the pleasure of touring the Stormhorns with a few folk. The view from the top of the pass is extraordinary to behold. As the snow falls gently , the only sound is the winds whispering through the passes below. Truly one of the few peaceful and beautiful places in the realm. A trip well worth the effort.
Also of note, I happened upon a young woman, near to death's grasp as she fled a foe which was near to overtaking her. After dealing with the creature, I was able to tend to her wounds, and see her on her way. It had been sometime, since I had been able to just do an act of kindness, and feel it to be rewarding. Even now I cannot fully explain it, but to be able to come to the aid of her, though what some would consider to be a small act, I doubt would be considered such by the young woman.
It is my hope, that my last days, will be rich with such deeds, both great and small. Otherwise, "retirement" will be incredibly dull.
With a soft smile, she dusts the journal page with a bit of sand to dry the ink. She sets the open journal on the table next to her, then quietly sips her tea, her gaze watching the flames dance in the fireplace.
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Post by Kolfrosta on Sept 8, 2007 11:16:30 GMT -5
She left the village of Isinhold by night, weaving her way through its new "inhabitants". Every fiber of her being screamed to destroy the unholy abominations which filled the village, but such a cause would have only one result, and that would only be death with no meaning..or purpose. She left no word, for it was best that the fewer who knew, the better her chances of success.
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She slowed her steed as the trees of Cormanthor parted to reveal the small town before her. After a hard ride of a ten-day up the Northride, she had arrived at her destination. She paused at the river's edge long enough to get herself and her steed a drink of water, then she moved on. As she came to a tower, a rather non-descript old windmill, she smiled softly looking at it, and well understood understated homesteads and the comfort they brought. Usually, small farming villages were peaceful, quiet, and held no more danger to them than a brawl in the local inn. But she knew better.
Easing down from the saddle, she moved to the saddle bags and removed a sealed letter, as well as a bottle of sasparilla. As she approached the door, she whispered a quiet prayer to Mystra that the master of the tower be in a listening mood. She thought that to ask more may have been a bit much. She knocked politely on the door, and waited. Before long, and old man opened the door, looking at her curiously.
"The Master does not wish any visitors this day"
"Very well, then I ask only this. Give these to him at his earliest convenience. I ask nothing for myself, but the Kingdom of Cormyr is in great need. My purpose here, is for the safety of Her Royal Highness, during Cormyr's dark hour. The sasparilla, is of course, for his pleasure. I cannot tarry long, as I must return soon. I shall be at the Inn for a few days, I pray he will at least consider my offer."
She handed the letter and bottle over, then bowing gracefully, she made her departure.
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