When the past meets the future...

[henny]

A low fog hugs the ground all across the bad lands this night.. a lone traveller makes his way cautiously across the broken grounds following the light that caught his interest hours before. His short legs pump tirelessly... he crests a ridge and finds himself standing but inches by what can only be described as a gash in the earth, as if some divine or infernal power reached down and slashed open the lands, leaving a wound of bleeding magma to scar the world.

Elsewhere...

An obscure sage awakens from a nightmare... "he is returning" he gasps out. Then he closes his eyes and drifts off to dreams of pleasenter things....

[henny]

One month later.... a vulture happily lands next to the skeletal remains thinking it has found an easy meal. As it begins to gorge itself on the body a soft light begins to glow in the eyeless sockets of the body. A decomposing dwarven arm snaps up and grabs the carrion feeder by its neck pulling it down, down, clsoe enough to rip its throat out with a vicious bite from the bodies decaying jaw. Quickly drained of all its life blood, the bird is tossed aside casually, and forgotten. The corpse sits upright frome its prone position slowly. Flexing its fingers it feels new growth on its hands.. living tissue. Its hea swings up and sniffs the air. The eyeless corpse stands shakily and stumbles away, attracted by the scent of warm blooded vermin nearby...

[henny]

A small campfire spreads a cheery light among the broken rock formations of the badlands. Two elves sit in quiet contemplation. In the last six months, they have become fast friends. One is a dusky skinned warrior from the far-east the other a pale skinned harper from a nearby city. Smiling they begin to remenice over there adventures together. Twin gleaming blades hang from the belt of the warrior, while a magnificent bow lays next to the harper. “Not much farther now” says one of them. “Almost to Eveningstar and from there a quick caravan ride to Isinhold, Lau.” “It will be good to see old friends again, Jasal”. Smiling they begin to plan what there next few months hold in store for them. The warrior speaks of gathering a following of warriors of faith and seeking out evil everywhere. The harper speaks of making contacts with his fellows and perhaps taking a well earned vacation. One of them recalls a recent incident with a human serving wench sending both into a loud outburst of laughter.
The warrior’s eyes narrow suddenly. “I feel sick… something is wrong…” Before the harper can respond a blade, 2 feet long and black as the night sky, erupts from his chest. The blade pulls back then in a sawing motion, making the elf’s last moments of life as agonizing as possible. The warrior has his blades in hand before he even reaches his feet. A dark shadow rises up from behind the fallen elf. Three and a half feet tall, a dwarf slowly moves into the firelight. Black hair and strips of tattered flesh hang off him like jewelry. “Foulness most unholy, you dare!” The warrior shouts before throwing himself madly at the dwarf. Both blades sink home buried up to the hilts in the dwarf’s body. Without a seconds hesitation the dwarf shrugs off the mortal wounds and impales the elf on the black blade. The razor edge of the sword so sharp it parts the elf’s chain as though it were cloth. Pushing off the elf the dwarf steps back and watches as his new wounds begin to mend themselves. Standing over the elf he snarls at him “Bad enough ye beein elf, but a stinkin’ palydin too? Bah. I be makin sure dat you be never comin back.” Swinging back his sword, he sets his feet, and with one great blow beheads the holy warrior. Reaching down to the head he dabs his finger in a growing pool of blood and puts it to his tounge. Spitting it out angrily and muttering about the foulness of the holy blood, he grabs the head by the hair and tosses it into the fire. “Not even your god be bringin you back now elfie.. gwah ha ha” Striding over to the fallen, dying harper, he stares at the elf for a good long time. Looking up at the dwarf, his eyes going cloudy in death, the elf says, “I know you.. you’re the one that saved me from the slavers so long ago… why, why, why?”. Reaching down he pulls the elf close and says”Aye, that being me…. And now I be claimin the debt ye be owin me” Biting down he tears a large chunk of flesh from the elf’s neck and slowly consumes its life..”

[henny]

Eveningstar, a few hours after sunset the next day.
A lone dwarf wearing bloody clothes 2 sizes to big for him and carrying a lone black sword, passes through the gates. A call from the guards catches his attention.”Where you be heading to, dwarf?” Looking up he smiles a gleaming smile of perfect teeth and unmarred skin and says simply,”Home, I’m going home”

[henny]

One week later,
The dwarf was relaxing on a small bed upstairs at the inn in the small village of Isinhold. Smiling contently he began to drift off. Something moved nearby suddenly. His eyes flicked open in wariness. He sat up and reached for his sword. His hand grabbed only air and hard marble. He gazed around in awe as he took in his new surroundings. No longer was he in a room with four solid wooden walls, but now he was sitting on an immense floor of black and white checkered marble that stretched off into the horizon. Smiling he thought of his last visit here and how it had forever changed his life. He chuckled softly as he thought of his former god, Gond, and how easily he had broken off and pledged his fealty to a trully 'divine' deity here. From all around him a voice resounded, and in that voice was a thousand voices, each one speaking in a different voice etched with pain and sufferin. "You have displeased me dwarf." Knowing better then to even think of an excuse much less to speak one, the dwarf gave himself up to the glory of having his god's attention once more. "I did not release you from your eternal reward of your burning hell to have you become merely a bandit, preying on travellers for gold to fill your stomach with food. You have wasted my gift to you.I have given so much and yet receive nothing in return." The dwarf stiffened, realising where this was going and knowing that there was only one way to respond for him. "Oh glorious lord, god above all gods, I have erred. I not be deserven you thoughts much less bein your blessins that you have unselfishly be lavished on me. Command me and be knowin you command bein me life from here on." Flipping over he buried his face in the ground in an attempt to show he was groveling. Laughter. Mocking, tittering, insane laughter from all around. "You cannot fool me with your feined loyalty, half man. I know your is a treachorous heart and that is why I find you to be an 'adequate' follower. But it is time to speak of other things. It is time to enact my most righteous of edicts on Cormyr. You shall be voice of my faith here, you must proclaim an edict of Banedeath. The dwarf smiled remembering stories of Zhentil Keep in the throes of the Banedeath. A smile was all that needed ... a giant spectral hand reached down and plucked him off the ground around his waist. "Do not fail me again, fool!" The hand squeezed and the dwarf felt his organs rupture, bones break, and his life slip away.
Waking up suddenly he glanced quickly around. His room at the inn. Sighing in relief he quickly dropped to the floor and fell into prayer to his god. Standing up and grabbing his possessions he threw open the door and stomped heavily out into the world, the world that would soon know the glories of his god in ascendence.

[henny]

Night falls, a lone Zhent scout wanders away from the camp and walks behind a small boulder to give himself some privacy from his fellows. Staring up at the night sky he breathes in the air of excitement building all over the valley. After all these long months the siege of Isinhold is finally making some progress. Smiling wickedly, he fantasizes of the spoils and plunder he will reap from the town. Leaning his axe against the boulder, he is surprised to hear the head of the axe make a mettalic clink and even more surprised to see a hand reach out of the shadowy boulder and pick up the axe. Staring in awe the man watches as the boulder unfolds into a dwarf obviously under the protection of one of those stone-skin potions the mages always carry around. Girded in Stone colored steel and iron, it was small wonder he did not notice him in the dusk and dark. Snapping out of his delirium he opens his mouth to yell for his comrades but his own axe whips out and cuts through his neck. "Curious" he thinks as he settles to the ground, "I have never seeen my body from behind". Eyes slowly shutting, his last sight is of its own body crumpling to the ground a yard away. Sneaking away into the darkness th dwarf goes to find a good place to 'plant' the weapon.

[henny]

Tied and bound the a Priest of Bane considers his options carefully. After being arrested by the zhentarim captain of the guards on suspicion of murder, and then finding out someone had planted a bloody axe in his belongings, his future was looking bleak indeed. So when his rescue at the hands of an unknown dwarf happened he had wasted no time in jumping at the opportunity to escape. Now miles away he was bound and helpless and as of yet the dwarf had said nothing. As daylight finally broke the dwarf approached him. "Da night be endin and maybes your life be too, but that be up to you it be." Putting out his hand the dwarf displayed a ring with the detested darksun starburst on it. Spitting at the dwarf he shouts, "Fear me dwarf for my lord Bane's vengeance is terrible!". Chuckling the dwarf turns away and says quietly, almost so quiet as to not be heard,"Aye, but it be nothin comparin to my reward in da hereafter." Turning around swiftly he speaks"Dis be your last chance, you be swearin over to me god or you be explainin to him why he not worthy of your worship in person. And ye be markin me words he be waiting for ye on the plains of fugue. He be gettin to ye before any be knowin ye there." Sweat pouring down his face at his seemingly limited options the priest looks up at the dwarf. The sun rising behind the dwarf is blocked out by his stocky frame causing something of an ecplise in the eyes of the priest. And all of a sudden he understands. The dwarfs black armour, black cloak, and sun's light streaming around him, it isn't an eclipse, but a dark sun. Tears streamed to his eyes as he then says the words that decide his fate forever...

[henny]

Standing on the hill overlooking Isinhold, a smile creeps across his face. As darkness creeps across the land the usual campfire springs up behind the general store underneath the old oak. He takes a deep breath, shakes his mane of hair, and blinks a few times. "Two more days" he thinks to himself. "Two more days and I will be ready to go in. But not yet. " Turning away he resumes the bloody work that has sustained him for the last two weeks.

[henny]

Sitting quietly near the campfire, under the shadows of a large cloak, the dwarf studied the faces around him. He recognized the white warrior, Cormac, though he had definetly progressed as a warrior since last he had seen him. not to many others visited the town this night, though an elf he did not know did try to get him in conversation once. No one, though, that he could see that might be a threat to his return. Sighing he bundled deeper into the cloak and drifted off.. dreaming of days long past when the town of Isinhold was a busy causeway full of potential for furthering the cause of his god.

[henny]

The Paladin in all his righteous glory is waiting for him as soon as he leaves the south gates of the town. "I know you dwarf, and you know I cannot suffer you to live" With just those words the human warrior charges straight ahead his sword aflame with his gods holy enchanments. Bracing himself the dwarf brings his black blade up to parry the charge... as the blades cross, an explosion of holy and demonic energies leep outward throwing both combatants to the ground stunned. Recovering quickly the dwarf jumps up and not seeing his blade in sight runs for a nearby farmers shack in search of a weapon. A pair of axes catch his eyes from a chopping block on the side of the shack. Grabbing them up, one in each hand he rushed back towards his foe. Recovering a bit slower then the dwarf the tall human slowly rises up from the ground, only then does he notice the dwarf rushing at him. Weaponless he raises his hands in a futile effort at defense and screams. An axe to the chest and one to the neck and the favored of Lathander falls to the ground, death taking him before his body stops twitching. Stumbling away the dwarf looks around for his sword. What he finds makes him scowl in distaste. All that remains of the two swords is a silver and a black pommel fused together lying in the weeds. Walking back to the fallen holy warrior he rips both axes out the body and watches with a hint of a smile as the blood, splattered all over the head and handles of the weapons slowly cools into a deep black color. Axes in hand the memories of a dwarven childhood quickly come back to him, only to be buried away by the shear weight of his devotion and faith. Befouling the body so that it might never be raised from the earth, he turns and stumbles away...

[henny]

Wiping sweat off his brow, pockets heavy with gold and jewels, he approaches the temple of Silvanus in Isinhold. Seeing Merriss the Druid in a conversation with two adventurers, he pushes through two and reaches in his pack, unfolding a cloth, shaking it free at the druids feet. A glowing fish falls to the floor, perfectly preserved. Wrinkling his nose the dwarf can smell the blessing of Tyr on it. "Here ya go green one, mebbe this will put some meat on ye bones." Then without another word he wanders off.
A while later, he again approaches the drudic temple again to see the druid occupied with others. Marching up he quickly says "I be guessin ye be not be sellin potions to those dat be needin em anymore? Fine I be goin to see dem Malarites fer some then!" and storms off.
Crossing into the northern forest, the dwarf is surprised as Merriss emerges from a tangle of plant growth to stand in front of him. "DWARF!" the druid shouts. "WHAT!" The dwarf shouts right back. "Here's your fish dwarf" Merriss says as he tosses the fish to the ground. "Keep it green one, I not be liken fish anyhow" the dwarf responds. "Take your fish and begone dwarf, you are hereby marked as a troublemaker in this town." A big grin breaks out on the dwarf's face "Ye know what druid? Ye got backbone, I like ye druid, ye all right" and with that he walks off into the gloom of the forest.

[henny]

Quiet, the town is still. The dwarf has circled the small village at least twice and yet there is no movement. Slowly and warily walking in, checking each doorway, he is surprised to find that his first assessment was right. He is all alone. Smiling he heads to the local armorers for a little 'loot and pillage', his favorite game.
The shop was empty as if the owner had carefully and thoroughly packed all his valuables and gone on a vacation. Shrugging the dwarf walked over to a barrel of steel rods near the forge and begins to run his hands over them. Smiling he selects one for which the balance is as perfect as any he'd ever felt. For hours he works the forge till he has grafted seamlessly his two axe heads to the long steel rod. Gazing proudly on his work, as an almost afterthought he says a small prayer to his god and asked for his blessing. Grinning he watched in spellbound wonder as the black blood stains on the axe heads slowly creep downwad and enveloped the entire weapon in a patch black and steel pattern..

[henny]

Shaking his head, he climbs quickly out of the pigs trough where he has found himself this morning. "Where be me?" he asks the crisp morning air. Slowly the previous night comes back to him. The druid, that durn druid... luring him with his one weakness, ale. Preying on his pride in his drinking ability... then being helped to the camp.. it gets kinda fuzzy there, but reaching down and touching his backside gingerly. Yep definetly had an encounter with the fire last night. "Stoopid drood probly pushin me in, he be." Patting his bag he realizes there is no reassuring clink of gold. Ripping it open he finds it completely empty."ARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH! Durned druid be nippin me coins as well!" edit: continued in 'dreams of night' in RP forum