Post by Brynjolf on Jun 20, 2005 7:50:48 GMT -5
Nightmares can haunt you for an eternity. Some of them are so bad they alter the way in which you live and how you perceive life around you. Sometimes you seek to forget those events which caused the nightmares to begin with and in forgetting you loose yourself...
The Mage awoke in a cold sweat again. His heart racing in his chest and his mind clouded by fear. Yet again he had seen his friend’s fall from grace, seen her taken and consumed by pure evil. Besides him, his Moon-Elven wife, Chalice reposed in her reverie. Wuffa looked down upon Chalice and smiled. She was so beautiful and as was the way of her people, ever young. He combed his fingers through his grey-white hair and beard, then slowly and quietly, so as not to disturb Chalice, he got out of the bed and went to the window.
Looking out his window he saw the bay of Waterdeep, The City of Splendors. He could hear the waves crashing against the seawall upon which his tower stood and he could smell the night air as it came in from the sea. Wuffa turned his eyes towards the night sky and found the constellation of Mystra and he mouthed a silent prayer to his once mortal friend and now the Goddess of Magic. He still thought of her as “Midnight The Mage”. He was there in the end days of the Time of Troubles, standing in the sidelines, unobserved by the major players of the dreadful events in those dark days. She had been his friend then and was his constant companion now. Reaching beneath his beard he gently touched the holy symbol he wore. “Holy Lady, I failed Kolfrosta... I failed her and could not save her... Forgive me.” As the tears flowed down his cheeks he remembered the last time he had seen his friend, The Lady Kolfrosta Greytower.
They had been on a quest when the night fell and brought the mist that caused the loss of his friend.. To this day Wuffa feared the nighttime mist that rolled in with the darkness. He knew where it could lead... The demi-plane known as Ravenloft.
They arrived in a forest and after the confusion of the initial teleportation, they soon found the village of Barovia. There, they learned that the village was under the domination of a vile vampire lord named Strahd and they set out to free the villagers from his grasp. Little did they know that the land itself was cursed with a demonic inteligence and that Strahd was little more than a prisoner kept for the twisted enjoyment of the very land itself.
Strahd had figured out a way to escape the land, but he would need a victim to take his place. A victim that the land would accept as a fitting toy for its enjoyment. Someone it could corrupt as it had done to Strahd himself. Strahd and the land had chosen Kolfrosta.
Kolfrosta was a paladin of Mystra and like Wuffa, had been present when Midnight ascended into the role of the Goddess Of Magic. Wuffa remembered her smile and her passion. She had been present when their party found the golden cup within which, Chalice had been imprisoned during the fall of Myth Dranoor. It was Kolfrosta who had laughed and encouraged Chalice and Wuffa’s relationship and it was Kolfrosta they had named their daughter for.
Wuffa, shuddered as he remembered the moment they had escaped from Ravenloft. Kolfrosta stood firm as her friends fled for their very lives. Her blade created the path that they took to safety. He used all the spells at his disposal and every scroll as well to aid her escape .
It was not enough...
He watched in horror as Kolfrosta fell beneath the hord of undead that came after them. He watched in horror as she arose from the wreckage of the undead she had taken down with her. He watched in horror as she pealed the helm from her head and turned her once lovely green eyes upon them. Her eyes were those of the undead. His mind screamed to him the name for that which he saw... “DEATH KNIGHT!” As she took up her sword once more, this time accompanied by the undead hord, the mists closed in and cut off the portal to Ravenloft.
That had been thirteen years ago. Since their return to Waterdeep, Wuffa had not touched his books or scrolls. He became a pale shadow of the man he had been. Chalice and little Kolfrosta were the only people he spoke with other than his pseudo-dragon Magor. His once strong arms had lost their strength and his mind had forgotten the many spells it once contained.
Looking up at Mystra’s stars he wished he had been stronger wished he had been able to pull his friend from the wickedness that had taken her from them. As he looked at the stars one suddenly shone brighter than the rest. Just as quickly it traced an arc across the night sky and plummeted into the horizon far to the south and east.
As Wuffa’s mind raced he heard a voice whispering upon the wind. “My poor friend... To long have you suffered in the well of self-doubt and depreciation. A king has died and a land needs aid. Take up your staff and seek what was lost in the Wolf Woods. There you will find hope and renewed strength.” The tears rolled anew upon Wuffa’s cheeks now, this time not in sorrow or fear but in joy.
Midnight had answered his prayers and in the morning he would begin again his life, his profession. In the morning he would set out in the direction of the land of Kolfrosta’s birth. into Cormyr.
The Mage awoke in a cold sweat again. His heart racing in his chest and his mind clouded by fear. Yet again he had seen his friend’s fall from grace, seen her taken and consumed by pure evil. Besides him, his Moon-Elven wife, Chalice reposed in her reverie. Wuffa looked down upon Chalice and smiled. She was so beautiful and as was the way of her people, ever young. He combed his fingers through his grey-white hair and beard, then slowly and quietly, so as not to disturb Chalice, he got out of the bed and went to the window.
Looking out his window he saw the bay of Waterdeep, The City of Splendors. He could hear the waves crashing against the seawall upon which his tower stood and he could smell the night air as it came in from the sea. Wuffa turned his eyes towards the night sky and found the constellation of Mystra and he mouthed a silent prayer to his once mortal friend and now the Goddess of Magic. He still thought of her as “Midnight The Mage”. He was there in the end days of the Time of Troubles, standing in the sidelines, unobserved by the major players of the dreadful events in those dark days. She had been his friend then and was his constant companion now. Reaching beneath his beard he gently touched the holy symbol he wore. “Holy Lady, I failed Kolfrosta... I failed her and could not save her... Forgive me.” As the tears flowed down his cheeks he remembered the last time he had seen his friend, The Lady Kolfrosta Greytower.
They had been on a quest when the night fell and brought the mist that caused the loss of his friend.. To this day Wuffa feared the nighttime mist that rolled in with the darkness. He knew where it could lead... The demi-plane known as Ravenloft.
They arrived in a forest and after the confusion of the initial teleportation, they soon found the village of Barovia. There, they learned that the village was under the domination of a vile vampire lord named Strahd and they set out to free the villagers from his grasp. Little did they know that the land itself was cursed with a demonic inteligence and that Strahd was little more than a prisoner kept for the twisted enjoyment of the very land itself.
Strahd had figured out a way to escape the land, but he would need a victim to take his place. A victim that the land would accept as a fitting toy for its enjoyment. Someone it could corrupt as it had done to Strahd himself. Strahd and the land had chosen Kolfrosta.
Kolfrosta was a paladin of Mystra and like Wuffa, had been present when Midnight ascended into the role of the Goddess Of Magic. Wuffa remembered her smile and her passion. She had been present when their party found the golden cup within which, Chalice had been imprisoned during the fall of Myth Dranoor. It was Kolfrosta who had laughed and encouraged Chalice and Wuffa’s relationship and it was Kolfrosta they had named their daughter for.
Wuffa, shuddered as he remembered the moment they had escaped from Ravenloft. Kolfrosta stood firm as her friends fled for their very lives. Her blade created the path that they took to safety. He used all the spells at his disposal and every scroll as well to aid her escape .
It was not enough...
He watched in horror as Kolfrosta fell beneath the hord of undead that came after them. He watched in horror as she arose from the wreckage of the undead she had taken down with her. He watched in horror as she pealed the helm from her head and turned her once lovely green eyes upon them. Her eyes were those of the undead. His mind screamed to him the name for that which he saw... “DEATH KNIGHT!” As she took up her sword once more, this time accompanied by the undead hord, the mists closed in and cut off the portal to Ravenloft.
That had been thirteen years ago. Since their return to Waterdeep, Wuffa had not touched his books or scrolls. He became a pale shadow of the man he had been. Chalice and little Kolfrosta were the only people he spoke with other than his pseudo-dragon Magor. His once strong arms had lost their strength and his mind had forgotten the many spells it once contained.
Looking up at Mystra’s stars he wished he had been stronger wished he had been able to pull his friend from the wickedness that had taken her from them. As he looked at the stars one suddenly shone brighter than the rest. Just as quickly it traced an arc across the night sky and plummeted into the horizon far to the south and east.
As Wuffa’s mind raced he heard a voice whispering upon the wind. “My poor friend... To long have you suffered in the well of self-doubt and depreciation. A king has died and a land needs aid. Take up your staff and seek what was lost in the Wolf Woods. There you will find hope and renewed strength.” The tears rolled anew upon Wuffa’s cheeks now, this time not in sorrow or fear but in joy.
Midnight had answered his prayers and in the morning he would begin again his life, his profession. In the morning he would set out in the direction of the land of Kolfrosta’s birth. into Cormyr.
