Yven Fenrir

[Thanatos]

His eyes fluttered open slowly as he came to look upon the wooden roof above his head. He couldn't remember where he was or how he got there. Wasn't he outside just moment ago? He tried to lift himself up, only to be overwhelmed by a sharp pain as he cried out. "You're awake! Finally! I thought you were never coming to..." It was another's voice who rushed into the room. "Easy, easy there! You have no business getting up!" The voice scolded. "Lathander's Grace! Stop squirming, you'll re-open your wounds!"

"No! He must die!" Yven yelled in his own head, but the words didn't come out as he collapsed back onto the bed.

"Easy, easy... You should be glad to be alive." Her voice soothed.

His eyes fluttered open once more. There were so many questions that needed asking: Why is my chest naked? Where's my armour? Where's my sword? "Where am I?"

"You're in Eveningstar." She said, as the memories flooded back in. Adelius Drakan and he, they fought. He was sure of it. He couldn't believe that he lost. Tyr had forsaken him in his hour of need. No good deed goes unpunished... "We found you beaten up pretty bad. Your armour was practically wrecked." At least Tyr was kind enough to grant second chances. "You're one of those paladins, aren't you?" She asked, but he didn't reply. "I know you are. I saw Tyr's symbol on your pendant. So you're obviously a holy man... And you're too well-muscled to be a cleric. Clerics don't use big swords like yours." Yven turned his head away from the women who was tending to his bandages. He looked to his holy symbold that sat on the table next to his bed in shame. "So? Who are you then?"

He took his time in saying anything at all. "My name is Yven... Yven Fenrir of Silverymoon." He explained as she went about to tending his wounds.

*** *** ***

And I have no past. No great story or tale to share. I was born into an easy life. A life of nobility and prestige, with two of the most loving parents any could have ever hope for. They were the reason I left home. Odd, you might think, to abandon a good life... But I didn't earn that life. It was a life bought through the blood and tears of my parents. They were great folk. Thought of as heroes in Silverymoon. I am nothing more than the son of two great people.

My father is Loren Fenrir, born in the Savage Frontier, in some remote town most likely run over by orcs by now. Life in the frontier was a life of complete chaos and lawlessness, where the strongest survived. He too, left his home when he was young; younger than me even. He left when the town hung his father for alleged crimes he would never admit to, judging him without a trial or evidence. My father was not an adventurer, or a warrior by nature, but he was compassionate and loving, a rarity in the harsh lands he grew in. He taught me how to ride and hunt as I grew up in the North.

My mother is Tessandra, and was born into an even harder life than my father. She was once told, long ago, that she was exposed at birth for being a female. Left on the slopes of the Spine to die. But as all exposed babies are in myth, she too was saved from her fate. Where she lived after that is still a mystery to both my father and I, but from all accounts it seemed that she grew up beyond the Spine, in the land where it was always the harshest of winters. She was the warrior of the family, renowned in her ability with a spear, and she would tell me stories of the great battles she fought over the years as children's tales. It was she who taught me how to fight and defend myself, and it was she who taught me that shields were tools of the weak.

I will not relate either of their stories in full, for I'm no bard and it would not do the memory of their deeds justice. I will say that they were both born into a hard, low life, yet they took that life and transformed it into one of greatness. They found themselves forced on the road of adventure, and each grew into their own, to be admired by many. For many years I wondered how I could live up to their name and deeds. How could I pay the proper respect to these two great heroes? It was in my schooling in Silverymoon that I first learnt of Tyr, though in essence, it was practically a footnote in all that I would later come to know. I would later learn more of Tyr from a wandering Tyrran paladin who made his way to my city of birth. He was the one responsible for furthering my education in the Tyrran faith, and the eddicts of paladinhood. I quickly became enamoured with it all.

Justice. What greater act could I do to honour my family's life than to help bring a more just world into being? Both mother and father were born into a life of tears due to a lack of justice in the world. It was a calling I felt and could not deny. A just revenge was to be administered, and I left home to do so. My parents did not want me to leave, but I could no longer live the life of luxury I was born into. I left to honour their memories, and there was no greater way of doing so than by serving Tyr and making this world a more just one...

*** *** ***

"Greatness..." Yven whispered as he fell back to the dark world of dreams. He dreamt as he dreamt every night... He dreamt of his parents' deeds. Loren of the Savage Frontier, and Tessandra of the Frozen Far... "I will honour you... One day..."

[Thanatos]

A sealed letter makes its way along the road with a tiny package attached to it. Its origin, Shallybrook, and its destination, Silverymoon.

*** *** ***

Dear mother,

I am so sorry it's taken me so long to inform you of my current condition, but things in Cormyr are worse than we hear in the North. I've encountered all manner of orc and beast, and I know this is no excuse for neglecting in taking the time to write to you, but you will know that you and father have been in my heart constantly. The tales of your deeds remains my favourite subject of fireside conversations even when I am so far away. I know you do not approve of my heeding of Tyr's call, but you will one day see (I hope) that this is for the best, and that I honour you and Tyr with every foe I slay.

The Cormyrians seem to have little love for foreigners, or the aid they offer, yet so many flood into the land seeking a name for themselves. I see adventurer after adventurer walk outside the town's wall one days and then never be seen again. The locals are cold to us, regardless of nobility or rank. I have been sneered at time and again for walking around with Tyr's holy symbol hanging from my neck. They do not desire our help, so I do not know how much longer I will be staying in these lands.

However, the trip was not a complete waste, as I have met some companions whom I shall never forget. Among those dearest to me is Marn, an elf from Evermeet, and fanatically devout servant of Corellon Larenthian. He is an excellent travelling companion and a fine warrior. You yourself would have been pleased to have him at your side when you fought the Frost Giants of the Nether Mountains. Another is a lady Liadan Amaethal of our home, no less! She is a Dawnbringer, and as such, reminds me of father much more than she does of you. These two have been my closest and most trusted companions since I have arrived in these foreign lands.

But alas, Marn now stirs conscious from his reverie, and my time to write grows short. Suffice to say, I have learnt much while here including much in the way of tactics while fighting alongside a group. I will try to write you again as soon as I am able. Oh, and I have sent this letter along with a little package... It made me think of you.

Fair winds always,
Your son,
Yven Fenrir

[Thanatos]

A letter reached the Paladin, writen in the Illuskan he was so used to reading and hearing as a child. The script looked as though it had been writen down furiously, some words particularly more furiously than others.

*** *** ***

Dear Idiot Child,

While I know you would probably wish to run amock foreign lands as some distraught carefree youth, or obeying "Tyr's calling" as you say, I would have you know of how things fare in your home, where a loving family and a life that your father and I shed our blood for you to enjoy, await you. From the very sounds of it, the Cormyrians do not want you there interfering with their affairs just as much as we. My belief is that you should come home, as there is no sense in forcing your help on people who do not want it. But then again, who am I to tell you what is best for you? Oh, that's right, I'm your mother!

Is it not enough that I must be sick with worry! Do you hope that I may be sick with grief as well! Well, son, while you were away, you should know that there was an accident. Your father and brother rode off west to hunt and- I can't even bring myself to write of it. Oh, child, how I wept with sorrow and rage... Do not worry about your notions of justice though, I have personally seen those responsible answer for the deed by the end of my spear. Your sweet father has been avenged.

If the same had happened to you, what would I do? How would I avenge you? Would I even hear of it? Go do Tyr's duty. Go knowing that the family who you chose to abandon, has and never will abandon you. I can only pray that one day, you will come to reason that your place is here, with us, by our side. Your father and I know what it is to be abandoned. We will never let that same fate come to you, even if it is your wish.

With deepest love,
Your mother,
Tessandra Fenrir

*** *** ***

It did not take long before Yven had found himself chartering a ticket on the next caravan departing to Silverymoon from Suzail. In the little time that he had left in Cormyr, he said his goodbyes where they were necessary and left for home, grief and worry overcoming him as he incessantly pondered his father's fate. In times of dire need, family must come first.

[Thanatos]

Brick by brick, this world of mine falls apart...

In this land of Cormyr, black is glorified into a white, while white decays and fades away... So much turmoil and so little order, I sometimes wonder at night if this land will ever recover from it's plightful state.

I write this to you Marn, wherever you are. It's been nearly a month since I last saw you, alive and healthy and in the flesh. I've inquired at several inns across the country asking if they had seen any matching your description. Those few that recognised your name insist that the last time they saw you, you were with me. I have told others of your absence, and nearly all have told me to assume the worst. Though I must write this to you, because if I don't tell you... Who will listen?

As it appears, you were more right than you can ever know. Isinhold is poisoned by a severe madness which makes many call the necromancers friends. I of course speak of the very same ones you had conflict with before you left the town. Isinhold is struck by this plague. They are a disease that walk around freely and infect the life that Cormyr once was. I wish I could say you were right that only Isinhold was struck by this, but they are everywhere, dearest friend. You know one rules the town of Skull Crag, and I have stumbled across the stink of rotting flesh not only there, but in Redmist and even Suzail! The capital! Their practices are not discouraged and they are treated with respect and admiration and dare I say, even love? This disease has nearly infected all. I was conversing with Maxwell the other day, and he calls the necromancers 'friends', as well. It is little wonder that paladins are viewed with such disdain... Though I continue to try to set an example for others to follow.

But the necromancers are nothing compared to what I commit to this parchment now. You were right. Right without fail about Amaethal. She was everything as you said. I doubted your words at first, but I see your wisdom in the matter now. Yesterday I encountered a vile, crude and crass man who had a penchant for threatening women and undermining the few laws this land has. He is married, Marn. And despite all that, Amaethal has bedded him. He called her his lover. I dismissed at first. Called it an impossibility. I thought I knew her better... I was wrong.

Adultery... I do not know the domestic laws of Cormyr as well as I should, but in Silverymoon it is as grave a crime as in many other places. One of the few crimes I've no business reporting. Even so, I took the news... Well, personally. I do not know why. Perhaps, I thought I knew Amaethal better than that. Perhaps I feel betrayed for realising that I did not know her at all. It's as though everything I ever knew of her was a lie. She consorts... flirts... sleeps with evil...

This goes right back to the necromancers... She thinks love and kindness will change them all... Make everyone better... I like to fancy myself as somewhat compassionate myself. I know when compassion works and when it doesn't. Tyr has given me the wisdom to know when second chances are due, and where they aren't. Tyr gave me the wisdom to show Drakan compassion... His was a evil, as you say, that destroyed itself upon realising it's nature. I think, in Amaethal's mind, everyone is like Drakan was. But the difference was... Drakan, he wanted to erase all that he had done...

I do not even know what to do anymore. Tyr, he would have me frown on this whole business. Adultery, necromancy, threatening... I am lost, my friend. And the more I speak to these people, the more I begin to think that perhaps it is I who is mad for frowning upon evil so. But I mustn't forget who I am... I must not let this plague touch me so deeply. In your own words... I am Knight and Lord. Does my world fall apart, or does it all fall in place? No-one will ask how the paladin fares, so I must confide in Tyr... In the memory of Fenrir... And in your memory as well...

Perhaps, after all... There is hope.

*** *** ***

Yven held the parchment that he wrote on in his hands, looking it over briefly. He gave off a weak smile, satisfied with the work. He looked around the empty inn in Suzail. Crumpling up the parchment in his hand and tossing it into the fireplace.

I pray this reaches you, wherever you are...

[Thanatos]

He was wrong.

Marn was right. Even Adelius was right. But he was wrong. Yven thought this to himself as he twirled a rose he had purchased in Suzail earlier that day. He sat there looking out towards Redmist's docks, picking off the petals of the flower one by one letting Akadi's winds decide their fate. The damage was done. Each petal torn could not be reattached, no matter how much he wished it otherwise. Liadan was a head-strong girl, and once a thought entered her mind, there was little point in trying to change it.

Ever since he came to Cormyr, he's only ever tried to do the right thing wherever he went. Something that has earned him nothing but trouble from day one, when he aided a man who turned out to be a maddened thief. There he had been too compassionate. Then the incident with Liadan came, where he hadn't been compassionate enough. Both were important lessons. Both have led him to a rather alienated existance in Cormyr. It is as the philosophers of Silverymoon had taught him long ago, that those who would burden their character with virtue and honour and devote their life to divine principle will find themselves alienated by many. "If you take it upon yourself to stand for goodness and instill virtue, you will be resented by all those who have been hurt by others in the past." His father's words echoed in his mind. "You have a priveleged life, a life that your mother and I never had growing up. Many more are born into harsher lives... More tragic lives... Lives filled with death and despair... Sorrow and loneliness." Those were the wise words he heard in his youth that unintentionally drove him down the path he travelled today.

Yet for all the mistakes he made since he has arrived, and for all the trouble he has brought on himself, it cannot be said that there has been no good as well. Adelius was shaping up to be a fine civilian once more, a man saved by the Just God's mercy. In his whole stay here, he has saved this one man, and perhaps that is the sole reason Tyr has brought him to Cormyr. And good has been done to him as well. He looked at the rose in his hand once more, a single red petal remaining on it. Everything he once had, he's pushed away; family, nobility, fortune and wealth, and friends. So many friends were lost, in Silverymoon and on the road and in Cormyr. Some of these were pushed away for a greater good, and others, like Liadan, due to emotion.

He contemplated that last red petal at length. This one he would keep, his thoughts drifting to another, a gentle smile creeping onto his face...

[Thanatos]

He tried to stiffle the loudest of his agonised moans as his sweat dampended the cloth beddings that did cover him. The pain would only act up ever so occassionaly, but when it did, it did it fiercely. Just when he'd think it'd pass, just when he'd think his body and mind could be at ease again and he'd close his eye in its false comfort, that is when the world would begin to violently spin again. Yven rolled from the side of the bed and purged into the bucket one more.

"Incredible. You've been at it for days and not a single drop spattered onto the floors." Said one of the Tyrran priests as he tended to the scribing near Yven's bunk. "Aren't you paladin types supposed to be immune to this sort of thing?"

Coughing out some of the remains, Yven made his retort. "Prinias... For the last time. It's..." 'Oh gods, it's coming up again' "It's unnatural!" And with that, he was back over the bucket.

Brother Prinias rolled his eyes and glanced back at him. "Firstly, my name's not Prinias. Stop calling me that."

"Well, it's easier to pronounce." Yven managed to say through coughs and groans.

"Bah... Secondly, remind me how you came to be like this?"

With a cloth hankerchief, Yven wiped the sweat from his face and lay back on his bunk. The worst of it seemed to have passed once more. "Orcs, brother. Orcs. Lots of them. We broke into their lair, and in the ensuing carnage their shamans bolted out spell after spell in their fell god's name. There were a lot of them, brother. I broke away from the others briefly, and they targeted me, praying in their savage and unholy words to strike at my very being. I could scarecely move afterwards and was nearly slain myself in the combat."

"Wasn't there a priest to tend to your condition?"

Yven contemplated his own words. "Aye... A dawnbringer..." He still didn't quite understand why the treatment did not wholly dispel the powerful magics that wracked his body now. Could've been any number of reasons, really. He knew not to dwell on the matter though. "In any case, she treated the worst of it... This is just... Leftovers... Dark energies that's taking it's time to leave my system, is all."

"You have no idea what you speak of, do you?"

"Not entirely."

"Figured." Brother Prinias mumbled in satisfaction. He set down his quill and got himself up from the desk. "I'll fetch you some more water."

"That would be most kind of you, Prinias."

Prinias glanced back at him with a scowl, bucket in hand, muttering something along the lines of, "Bloody Northerners..." Before he left the quarters, a thought occured to him and turned to face the paladin once more. "If your lady comes and asks for you?"

Yven blinked a few times and propped himself up with his elbows. "Eh?"

"Your lady friend. The Amnish girl?" He said flat, gazing at the paladin neutrally.

Yven blushed a bit, stumbling on his thoughts and words again. "I don't own her by any means, fellow... And... I mean, lands, she's not some Amnish girl. Her name's Aria. And she is very dear to m-"

"Yes, yes, the War Wizard Apprentice you are so fond of. Shall I allow her in the quarters if she asks for you?"

The blush was deepening as thoughts turned from Yven's affections for her, to the frightening thought of her seeing Yven in this pain and confined to a bunk and a bucket. "Um... Would you.... Tell her that I'm doing something grand, heroic, and important?"

"I'll not lie if that's what you ask."

"Well for Sune's sake, don't tell her that I reel in bed like a sickened child..."

"I'll consider it." Prinias smirked as he left the quarters.

'Bah,' Yven thought to himself, 'at least now I know how father must've felt after that ambush a couple months back...'

//OOC: Will be absent a bit between catching up in classes, preparing for tests and 300 coming out ( ;D). Won't be for too long I hope.