Rules

History

Stories

Links

Boards

Here you will find tales of heroism, mighty battles and quests that our guild members have written.

If you wish to submit a story that you have written, please contact Hypatia.  The more stories we have, the more life that is breathed into the characters and the guild.

I have grown very fond of you as a whole, and many individuals I would call true friends.  The Council has granted me much assistance, happiness and companionship, and I felt that it was time that I allowed myself to become closer to you as a family.  Upon reading the boards, I have seen a great amount of information being passed to the Council that would allow a more personal aspect and closeness to be achieved.  Therefore I would like to tell you of my history and answer a few questions in the process.  I shall try to add a bit more to this story as time progresses, so if you have any inquiries you would ask of me, I would be willing to make the attempt to answer them.

I shall begin by answering one of the most common inquiries of late.  Many of you have heard me commenting about my Mentor, Hileth Hilamor, and I have even had the pleasure of introducing several Council members to her as well.  Since then I have been asked, "Why do you have a Halfling Cleric as a mentor?" or  "How can Bristlebane mentor a Tunarian cleric" and similar inquiries.  The reason can be rather extensive, so I offer the following explanation, as it is one of my earliest memories.

I was born on the 23rd of May in the year 3123 to Yalrieurim, wizard of Ro, and Cildywenea, Paladin of Tunare of the house Kalrania.  The Kalrania house was once well known for carrying with them some of the most powerful magical abilities in Norrath, however their power and favor in the Tunarian court waned several generations before my birth.  Three years later, my sister, Tillah was born, whom my father contracted with the casters guild in Felwithe for her education in the field of her choice when she was so prepared.

My parents were traveling to Qeynos, my father to visit the arcane guild, and mother to visit a person at the Temple of Life.  This would be the first time my sister and myself were allowed to join them on their journey, so we were both very excited.  The trip through the Faydark was wonderful, watching my mother kill the orcs with a single swing of her sword, or a kick to the head, my father's annoyance at not being able to complete casting a spell before mother had slain them, and my mothers beautiful voice, lovingly teasing him about being too slow to speak.  When we entered the ButcherBlock Mountains, I was amazed at how short the guards were.  Mother would say that they were more than a match for her, but we didn't believe them till we saw them kill a bandit so fast and with such skill that there wasn't even a body left.  The tall dwarven statue amazed me.  Tillah called it Axely, and always called the town that for years.

The boat ride from my homeland to the land of humans was exciting; the sea breeze floating the foam onto the deck, and the gulls being swatted at by the sails.  My father explained to Tillah about how the boats were magical, and could sail without a breeze at all, and on a predetermined course without effort or a captain.  She was overjoyed and couldn't wait to make such magical creations.  As we came closer to the human city of Freeport, you could smell the odors of stale sweat, men packed too close together, fish wasting on the shore, and alcohol staining the ocean with their pungent colors.  Father would tell Tillah that it was the Humans drink that were making the fish float on the surface of the water, because they were drunk.  He was very supporting and caring that way, though I am unsure just how much Tillah understood, and how much she fully believed.

We passed through Freeport, Mother taking us to the Temple of Marr to pay her respects as a Paladin of Tunare, and Father went to the Academy of Arcane Sciences to gather some supplies and spells from their library.  We left there none too soon for myself.  The smell of too many unclean people in one place was overwhelming, not to mention the cacophony of sound caused by the reverberation of the buildings, the sea, the smiths and merchants.  I could not leave the place fast enough, though as soon as we entered the commons, I was once again assailed by the loud and boisterous sounds of merchants screaming about their wares and it overwhelmed me to the point that everything seemed to slow.  My ever-loving father assisted all of us by casting a spell on us that both hid us from view, and stole away the voices of those hundred or more merchants screaming for them to come to the tunnel for a purchase.  Mother looked with disdain and said that it would be worse than Freeport was, and father seemed to be annoyed by beggars before he managed to complete his magic ward.

It was growing dark as we approached the edge of the commons, and my parents began talking in hushed tones.  As we approached the entrance into what I would soon know as Kithicor forest, someone shouted that a hoard of giants were headed toward us and we were forced to take cover in the forest before my parents could complete their conversation.  After several moments, Mother called us out of hiding and told us to follow closely along the edge of the mountains.  They said that the forest was very dangerous and that we would rest in Rivervale for the night.

As we were walking, my parents were unusually cautious, I had never seen them so wary and concerned, suddenly my father shouted something about a wolf and Mother flew into action, her mana flowing from her hands in red streaks and her sword suddenly engulfed in flames as she swung madly at the animal.  Father singed the very air with spells so violent that they shook the ground raising dust as the mana reached its target.  Within moments the wolf was running off and father continued weaving magic to finish it off; however, something went wrong.  Just as I heard the wolf wail with the pain of its last breath, Mother shouted that more was coming and to run for the vale.  As we ran, father was caught by something and mother tried valiantly to restore his health but was unable to save him, and in moments the horror was on us, a hoard of undead, all pounding Mother.  Tillah and I were too horrified to act; finally, my mother called for us to run, bringing us out of our fearful trance but as we turned, we realized it was too late and had already been surrounded.  In a bound, Mother leapt in front of us, her sword swinging madly and her holy symbol dangling from her wrist.  The horrific warring corpses fell before her rage and she told us to run past, I picked up Tillah with a strength that was not my own and ran as hard as I could.  Something raked into my back, shredding my clothing and sending me staggering forward when I felt a hand touch me, my mothers last bit of strength given to me so that I may find safety.

I had no idea what the vale was, nor where it was so I ran as hard as I could, my sister in my arms, and undead minions catching up to me quickly.  Finally, as I heard the bones of the horde fall at my heels, I ducked into this cave, seeking whatever cover I may.  By the time I realized I had entered a city, I was already laying on the stones inside the doorway to a small church, while these tiny people warred with the hoard of undead that had chased me.  I watched in awe, while holding my terrified sister, as several  halflings were joined by many others to battle the undead.  When all the evil minions were felled, a halfling came to me and comforted Tillah and myself.  As I explained what happened she called a friend of hers whom I recognized as a wilder elf, as my father called them, and when I was done they spoke in hushed tones and the wilder left.

I stayed with the halfings for several months, feeling happy I had found Rivervale, yet grief ridden by the loss of my parents.  By this time I realized that the person that had comforted me was a Cleric of Bristlebane named Hileth.  She was a very warm, kind and sincere, which I believe are very common attributes of most halflings, but there was a warmness about her that made me feel instantly at ease.  My sister had been recovering from her wounds, and would never fully recover from the shock.  Hileth and her wilder elf friend, Kharisia, as she was introduced to me, had been scouting and searching for my parents so that they might resurrect them until one day they came to me and notified me that my parents bodies had decayed to the point that they could not be brought back to life.

Hileth comforted me and took me back to Felwithe where she spoke at length with the clerics guild.  After several hours she came to me and instructed me that she had arranged for my education and that when it came time for me to choose my path, that I would be free to do so.  For years I studied, and Hileth would visit me every time she would come to the continent.  Kharisia would accompany her sometimes, and eventually I decided I would become a cleric of Tunare.  On the 23rd day of May, 3133, I was finally granted my Clerical title, and my guild Tunic and sent forth to spread the word of Tunare.   However, with no one to show me how to perform the clerical duties beyond my initial training, I approached Hileth and requested her guidance, which she quickly offered.  Since then, I have studied and learned how to become an acceptable healer through her teachings, and retained my piety through Tunare by my will.  I will take every opportunity to slay the undead abominations that plague Norrath, Luclin, and the Planes, in the memory of my parents, and for the retribution of my dear, simple, sister.  With Hileth as my mentor, I shall hope to some day match her skill and ability, and bring honor to Tunare's name and Enigmatic Council.

I hope this reasonably explains how Hileth became my mentor, not in spirit, but in skill.  She has been a blessing to me, and all I know about performing my duties, she has taught me.  I believe that my mother is with Tunare, serving as her protector, and my father is with Ro, learning and finding new magics for Ro's followers.

Qenelinea and the stories written are the intellectual property of the author with all rights reserved.

Back to Top

Beginning her journey...

Being an alter ego of Hypatia the cleric, Tuls has her work set out for her - both in reputation to maintain and experience to gain.  She has been created to fight long and hard, and to protect those with her.  While she will have the advantage of being lighter and faster than some of her warrior peers, she will not have their strength.  In addition to the guidance of Hollander, the Barbarian warrior she honors, she will also benefit greatly from the support and camaraderie of the Council.

Even though she is a different race and class than her alter ego, they have much in common.  Both of them started life only to be reincarnated after a short time.  And even at a young age, Tuls finds herself wanting a fishing pole to enjoy some quiet moments at the water.  After a brief false start*, everything is in the proper order and Tuls is finally ready to begin her journey in Norrath.

Born in the tree city of Kelethin, this half-elf lady warrior scampers about the high platforms to complete her first mission: turning in her scroll to Master Regren of the Emerald Warrior’s Guild.  Being part elf, the height and narrow walkways do not daunt her in the least as they did Hypatia.  Of course, the tree city is a maze at first for even full-blooded elves but once an elf-type gets their bearings here, it becomes second nature.

Be it luck, fate or destiny, on her first full morning of excursion, she hears a voice that she somehow knows as familiar.  She hollers loudly to greet Aubor, who is, no doubt, just passing through the woods of G’Fay, but takes the time to greet young Tuls.  They chat for some time, sitting at the base of one of the lifts.  Before he resumes his wanderings, Aubor bestows the Council’s name upon her.  How could he have known just how much she wanted the pride of her Guild’s name after her own?  Certainly there is an extra spring in her step when she goes on her way.

After slaughtering several swarms of wasps at Kelethin’s base, Tuls ventures further and further away from the safety of the city.  The royal jelly she has collected keeps her well fed and strong.  Black wolves nip at her heels before she turns to scold them with her sword; she remembers to check their pelts to see if they are of use to her tailoring alter ego.  Her goal is cross into the Butcher Block Mountains, a land she will know by instinct, thanks to Hypatia.

Like Hypatia, she has an affinity towards destroying every skeleton she sees.  Perhaps it is something about their whiny laughter or maybe it is the sound of their bones as they crash into the earth.  Regardless of the reason, she will have a sack full of their remains to hand over to Gunlok Jure once she reaches Kaladim.  He will reward her well for her effort.

Dressed in some things rummaged from Hollander’s bags, she sets off on the path leading to adventure…

*The creation of Tuls did not suit Hollander & he ordered her to be reborn.

Tuls © 2001-2007 (aka Hypatia)

Back to Top

Now entering the middlin time where she is not quite “grown up” (if you can use such a word for one who is part elf) but no longer a young child of Norrath, Tuls is on her way to developing into a strong lady warrior.  Her biggest milestone to date is the recent addition of her surname – Warpony.  With a smirk, she explains to those who ask, “If I were a Barbarian Warrioress, I would be a Warhorse!”

Her appearance has changed some since her days in the mountains of ButcherBlock…  One night, while hunting bear in the Commons, her friend, Wenlace, presented her with a wonderful shiny breastplate that he made himself.  With bracers and a tattered mantle cast off from Hollander, Tuls seems a force to be reckoned with at last.  While she somewhat follows the travels of her alter ego, Hypatia, she certainly has a different strategy.  Hollander has made sure she has fierce weapons and she is not afraid to use them.  She enjoys hunting alone if possible, but as she grows older she knows this simple pleasure will not last.  Tackling many lions and bears in the Commonlands, then gators in the Oasis, not only gave her much experience in the art of the hunt, but also a supply of pelts and meat that Hypatia will turn into useful things.

One crisp, clear morning, she sets sail out of East Freeport for the continent known as Kunark.  She lands on the docks of Fironia Vie, a complicated little town surrounded by the biggest spiders Tuls has ever seen.  Indeed, upon getting a closer look of them, she learns that they are half human!  One night, Hollander passes through town and escorts her through the spiders to a fertile hunting ground by a lake.  She will stay here for some time honing the craft of being a powerful warrior.

It is here at the lake that Tuls finally gets to hunt with Hollander’s younger alter ego, Shadowcastor.  Being a necromancer, he can cast many spells to aide with their hunting and can also conjure a skeletal pet to fight beside Tuls.  While she marvels at how different Hollander and Shadowcastor are from one another, she truly enjoys being able to spend time with him along the shore.  It is also at the lake that she meets two new members to the Guild.  Tuls playfully teases the Gnome about his large eyebrows and hopes he knows that she means no harm.

Banding together with others to hunt, Tuls has learned that her days of watching Hollander in battle are paying off.  When stalking her prey, she carefully tries to avoid angering too many foes at one time.  Once her arrow hits the mark, she guides the doomed beast in front of her hunting party so that they may join it to batter and destroy it.  She naturally has a soft spot for the clerics and others who keep her healed. 

One quiet morning when she is alone, she eyes a large cat prowling about.  After stalking the feline for a little ways, she decides to chance the battle.  Leveling her bow with the cat in her sights, the arrow flies swiftly and lands in the cat’s flesh.  With a swing of her tall cane, she bashes at the back of the snarling tiger.  As the large beast turns, Tuls raises her clawed fist and marks the tiger with stripes of blood.  The cat is fierce and a tough opponent.  The fight lasts longer than Tuls had planned, but in the end, she emerged the victor – this time.  For her trouble and sweat, she is rewarded with a chunk of meat to keep her strength up.  As the sun rises, she sits on a hill surveying the lake and land below her.  After tending her wounds, she picks up her bags and battle cane and sets off in search of more prey… 

To be continued!

Tuls © 2001-2007 (aka Hypatia)

Back to Top

Prelude to Adventure (aka The story of Daltroz)

The sun arose that morning much in the same way it had many mornings in times past. Sleep covered the lands and a light mist was hanging heavily in the air. A light wind was blowing from the west and countryside was starting to come to life. The birds were sitting in the trees chirping their merry song and in a near courtyard, a cock crowed to welcome the dawn. In the distance, the last, faint, scream of an Ettin was heard as it fell to its demise. Such was the way of most every morning here.

As the sun rose higher into the sky, many people were starting to show themselves, making busy to complete their chores before breakfast. A farmer was seen tending his stock, making sure they were fed properly and gathering the milk from the cow and the eggs from the nests. A woodsman was busying his axe, making firewood and other logs to use to craft people’s wares. Down the road came the clanking and rattling of platemail armor as some adventurer was headed on a quest known only to him. He was probably headed to Covetous that was nearby, or to some other distant dungeon that was in need of exploring. For this was commonly seen in this land. There were many people that dwelled here, and many of them were great tradesmen, but an even greater number of them lived solely to adventure and explore. But, corruption was creeping its way into the lands. Many of the explorers had turned to the way of murders and thieves.

A door opened to a simple, but sufficient house. From the door stepped McCloud, a grandmaster warrior. Well trained he was, in many different styles and types of fighting, and well versed in the arcane arts, the head of his guild, and very wealthy, by most standards. He has the loyalty of many men under him though he never abuses this power. His life was, but a simple one. To weed out the corruption from the hearts of men, as much as he possibly could. He did not fear death, for in this land; death was but a small hindrance in the quest of life. The sprit of a fallen person would simply roam the land until it could make its presence none to a high priest of the healing order. Then, as was the way with the arcane, the spirit would be resurrected back into a earthly form. Only but a little fame would be lost, and this could be quickly recovered. He was stern and solemn in his face. This walk had purpose, but there was a troubled look in his eyes this day. Something, whether natural or unnatural, was eating away at his very soul. His thoughts often returned to a past time when he and lifelong friend Hunter, were roaming the wilds together. For it had been over a year since he last laid eyes upon his friend. Burned forever into his mind were the last words of his companion. “My time here is past. I am leaving the bounds of this world to embark upon a new journey. No more can I tell you at this time.” “What does that mean?” thought McCloud. “Why, and more importantly, how did he leave this world? Simple death will only leave you but as a ghost beside your corpse. Nay, there is some sort of magic, whether dark or light, at work here. I must learn more of this, but, where shall I seek the answers?” With this, he quickly turned and headed down the south road into Vesper.

As McCloud traveled along the road, he was in deep thought. He did not take notice that spring was now in full bloom. The new green leaves were just making their first appearance into the world and many of the shrubs were glistening with blooms of white, red and yellow. The air was fragrant, but he heeded it not, for in his mind, bore the great weight of questions unanswered. McCloud, being of strong mind and short patience, did not like riddles. A question without answer troubled his mind more than a foe ready to strike. But, a riddle it was, and he alone must seek the answer. The winding road in front of him would through the forrest, with small tufts of grass along the sides and well worn path along the middle. Occasionally, a small horse or oxen drawn cart may pass, but it was mainly traveled only on foot. Large trees loomed on each side, although many had been cut down for the precious logs they contained. The smell of salty air entered his nostrils and he suddenly come to himself and noticed where he was. He now stood at the edge of the forrest, and was looking upon the city of Vesper. Vesper was a small city built partly upon docks standing in the ocean. On the docks, small rounded buildings stood and the streets were all a bustle with people peddling their wares. Among them equally were adventurers and questers that were looking to purchase armor, weapons and provisions. McCloud quickened his pace now, heading northwesterly, passing the inn and graveyard, onward until he reached the western bridge leading into the city. Upon crossing the bridge and rounding the bank, he was at the door of the wizard guild. Inside, he found the guildmaster and asked for council.

They two of them retired to a room in the rear of the building. As the door closed, the guildmaster looked at McCloud long and hard. Finally, he spoke, “McCloud of Minoc, brave warrior that is known throughout Brittiania, why me of all people, do you seek council?” McCloud bowed low to the wizard, then stated, “I have come to seek answers to many questions that burn in my mind.” The old wizard had a look of surprise on his face. “You should seek the head of your own class’s guild for matters regarding warriors. You know that.” he stated. McCloud bowed his head, “For the answers I seek, no warrior will know the answers, Oh great one.” A strange look indeed did come across the wizard’s face. Then a slight smile came to his lips as he replied, “Then come. Let us sit a while and discuss these matters.” McCloud proceeded to tell him of the events that took place over a year ago and to this day still trouble him. “How can someone leave this world? Death only creates a ghost and that too is reversed back into life!” McCloud exclaimed. “There is a way,” the wizard explained, “but few will ever experience it. There has long been known throughout the guild of wizards, of a great wizard that will occasionally present himself to this world. When he does, someone always leaves with him and is never seen again.” McCloud was sitting on the edge of his seat. Such news he had never dreamed. “Tell me more,” he stated. The wizard started again, “Until a few years ago, I deemed it to be an old wise tale. I had not in my long life, and I am very old, mind you, seen or heard anything of this wizard. As you say, about a year ago, there was rumor of it. A great wizard, ancient in his appearance camped near Cove. I quickly set out in search of him. When I found him, he was not kind to me, but spoke as though a parent scolding a child. I was commanded to return to my appointed path and not to stray. I ran quickly back here and have not ventured to Cove since. Upon returning, I started researching the ancient texts we have regarding him. After a long search, I found the answer, written in a hardly known tongue. Valor, Honesty, Humility, Loyalty, and the remaining virtues are what he is seeking. I stated that many people shall never experience it. That is because almost no one is this land can hold true to all virtues. There are some that had endured the hardship, and you may well be one of them.” McCloud was lost in thought for a moment, then softly he spoke, “Where do they go?” “It is unknown,” said the wizard, “but surely they do not die, for the wizards are not evil, as many may think.” “It is my suspicion, after reading the texts that they are taken to a new realm to maintain a balance in the constant fight between good and evil. Yes, McCloud, evil is in every world.” McCloud sat there for a long time without speaking a word. Finally, a determined look came across his face and he asked his final question, “How can I find him?” The wizard laughed heartily. “One does not find him, McCloud. He finds them, if he wants.” With that, the wizard got up and lay his had upon McCloud’s shoulder. “Hold true to yourself, my friend. It just may come. In time.” A disappointed look came to McCloud. He was heartbroken, but understood that when it comes to magical beings, you have to play by their rules, for many of them act as though they are of higher quality than mere mortal beings. Although he, himself, could also cast some spells, he depended on his blade more than his spells to defeat a foe. He stood up and thanked his friend for his council, then took his leave.

As he walked back along the road, heading back to one of his houses, McCloud was deep in though. A voice was calling him from behind, but he had not become aware of it. Finally, at last, just before the person caught up to him, did he wake from his walking dream to find his second in command running as hard as he could catch him. “Othag!” he exclaimed, “How are you, my friend?” Trying to catch his breath, in what seemed a desperate plea, Othag finally shouted, “My lord! We have been looking for you in this dark hour! Many lives have been spent near the mines of Minoc. The bandits have returned! Many of our brethren are in battle, as we speak. We must make haste to join them!” McCloud’s mind was not yet fully clear of the troubles he felt, but he knew he must go now or more shall die. “Onward then!” he shouted, “We shall engage them from the south. Off we go! Back to Vesper!” With that McCloud and Othag ran back to Vesper, across the west bridge then north in the city to the north bridge. They ran north through the countryside with the ocean on their left and long lines of tents on the right. The roaming people, or gypsies, inhabited this area. In other times, McCloud would have stopped to browse their wares, but today he has been called away on more pressing matters. Onward they ran until, at last, they were to another bridge. This bridge was at the foot of a small mountain. The mountain loomed into the air and was an open invitation to many people to come and mine its great treasures. Gold, iron and copper ore were but a few things to be found there. From the bridge, they could hear the familiar sound of sword on plate, mace on shield and spear in flesh. Wielding his halberd, McCloud ran into the battle with all the fierceness that was in his blood. With great mighty swipes, men would fall, beheaded or maimed to the point of death. The fight continued until he met the remaining members of his guild, half way around the mountain. When the final bandit fell, McCloud, in a strange tongue shouted, “Yan holg vir lak`en hur!” Othag dropped his head at such words. To many in the guild it was just some ancient jibberish that McCloud used from time to time. But, to Othag, it had meaning, more than many know. He turned to McCloud and asked, “Lord, why do you speak of him each time they fall? He is gone, and I’m afraid he will not return. And, why must you curse their kind that way?” “My reason is my own”, started McCloud, “Damn the day that you learned spirit talk!” He started to walk away then turned slowly to Othag and said, “There is a meeting of the guild tomorrow morn. Gather them all. I will meet you there at daybreak. I must retire to my home, for my mind is weary.” “Very well, Milord”, stated Othag, “It shall be done.”

The long walk home seemed shorter than normal to McCloud. His mind was elsewhere and he paid no heed to what he passed. This was most unfortunate, for there was one person on the road that greatly wanted to speak with him. A fair maiden, whom he knew well and she too knew him well. For, as he approached, she could see in him a great burden. She spoke only once, and when he did not respond, she simply followed him unto his door. When finally he looked around he saw her. A smile came over him and he was glad. Of all the people in this land, she was the only one who could bring a bit of joy to him. “Jilliana, my love. What brings you to my stoop?” “You are burdened”, she said, “I can see it in your face. What dreaded news could it be that bends my hero over like an old man, his heart heavy and the smile stolen from his face?” “Tis not news that has done this, but the lack of it”, McCloud said, “I have yet to hear from Hunter. I now fear he will never return. I do not know how long I can bear this without any news, good or bad. It weighs heavily in my mind. ” Then Jilliana turned to scold him, “McCloud of Minoc! Have you not taken the guild that Hunter and you founded and more than thrice times increased its size? Have you not now slain hundreds of bandits? Have you not the love of one woman, which is undying? Nay, for you burden yourself over naught! Sometimes I think of you as a complete fool! Never seeing that which is before you, but living in the past!” With this McCloud dropped his head. Such a headstrong woman he had, but even she could not ease the pulling in his mind. Something was missing, or being added, to his mind and he could not put his finger on it.

After he had eaten, he retired for some rest. Jilliana busied herself cleaning and repairing his armor. His sleep was restless and he tossed and turned about. He was in a dreary dream, but at the same time it seemed magical. In the far away distance, he could hear Hunter calling to him. “It is time!” was all that the voice said. Then, close enough for him to see, the pale mist formed into a face. The face looked ancient and older than the mountains. “Could this be a sorcerer from Sosaria?” he though. Surely not, they have been dead for thousands of years. Then the face spoke, “In time, McCloud. In time your questions will be answered. Seek me out, soon. For I need to talk with you.” “Where will I find you?” asked McCloud. “Come to Cove. Come to Cove.” the face replied as it faded away. McCloud sit up with a start. He was now wide-awake and in a cold sweat. Glancing at the clock on the mantle, he could see it would soon be daybreak. He quickly gathered his clothing and made haste toward the guildhall.

When he arrived, the entire legion of the guild was there, many hundred strong. He took to the podium and made is announcement, “Thank you all for coming. I fear time is of the essence! I received a warning yesterday that a new band of bandits were forming at the hunting grounds, near the entrance to the lost lands. The guild must move in secret to this location as to cut off their escape route. Always after an attack, they will enter the caves and steal away into the lost lands, only to reform at a later time. Keep in mind that all bandit activity has been centered near a passage to the old world. I posted a sentry near each passage and have gotten reports from them all. The only passage not being occupied at this time is in the graveyard above Vesper. There is where we move. By order of Lord British, all criminals that die while bearing the crimson above the head shall not be resurrected until their debt repaid. This may be the finest hour for good in this land!” There was applause in the hall. After is died down, McCloud spoke again, “Move swiftly down to Vesper. Enter at the graveyard and make your way north from the exit. Othag will guide you to the passage in the mountains. Alas, I have pressing business in Cove that cannot wait. I will join you in the hunting grounds when I return. Let none escape and slay them all. They are nothing more than murderers and thieves, the whole lot of them!” With this, the assembly dispersed and departed for Vesper.

When the company approached the graveyard, McCloud set off apart from them on a quest of his own. He bid them farewell and safe journey, for not only would they have the bandits to contend with, also would be wild beast and undead in the lost lands. At once he quickened his pace, onward to Cove. Cove is more a small encampment, than a city. Comprised almost completely of tents, save for a couple of stone buildings. Immediately to the west of Cove was the sea, and directly north were a mountain chain. The mountains looked old, withered away by time and heavy mining. In essence, they only looked like oversized hills now. The area between the base of the mountains and the sea was barely wide enough for two men to walk abreast. This lead to the orc encampment and was traveled heavily by adventurers seeking fortune from the orcs. The area of Cove was mostly protected on two sides, for the orcs never came down the path. It seems they do not like tight spaces, much unlike any orc that lives in caves. This was an area known well to McCloud, for he had spent much time there, killing orcs and ettins. He traveled in westerly direction until he reached the defiled graveyard of fallen men. Many skeletons were about and could have possibly yielded more bone armor that could have been used in the guild. But, he had no time to spoil away killing these lesser beings. He turned northwest and pressed on. By midday McCloud was standing at an open plain where many tents were set. At last, he had reached Cove. Surveying the land, he noticed one tent that he had never seen before. It was solid white, almost shimmering in the midday sun. The aura seemed to grow from it and envelop him. He was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and yet he fought it. At last he was standing at the doorway.

He stepped inside and noticed nothing but two chairs and one of them was vacated. He walked up and sat down, never saying a word, yet he could feel his mind being probed. To his right sat a very old man-like figure. His skin was like rugged old leather and gnarly hands extruded from his robe while they rested on the arms of the high back wooden chair. Long fingernails he bore on each finger, with but one golden ring on each hand. The ring was like solid, smooth gold, but hurt the eyes to look at. His robe was solid white with hems of what appeared to be ivy, or some other type of vine. Not so much stitched, but more woven into the fabric. The leaves, they seemed to flutter in the wind, although there was no wind to be felt upon the skin. Around his neck, he wore a dull, almost bland looking, metal talisman. With each breath he drew, the talisman shifted from dull metal to bright silver. Never before had McCloud seen such an object, and probably never will. At last the man spoke, “Welcome, McCloud of Minoc. I have heard that you seek me out.” McCloud stammered “I do not know if I seek you or not. Who are you?” “Who am I?” stated the man, “Well, I have many names to many people. In your tongue, I am called Dal`sgor, or, as many people say, The Great Wizard. I knew your friend, Hunter, which you desperately seek news of.” “How is he?” exclaimed McCloud! “He is fine, lad,” stated Dal`sgor, “but I am not hear to council you in matters regarding him.” A cold stare grew on McCloud’s face. He was again heartbroken that he would gain no news of his old friend. Dal`sgor started again, “I am here to start your test to see if you are worthy to travel from this world to the next. Thus far, you have proven yourself worthy, but there is the final test, one that may be hard for you to bear.” With a scared, but determined heart, McCloud asked, “What is my final test? I grow weary of this land and its corruption.” “Your first test will be Jilliana” added Dal`sgor. With that, McCloud felt his heart drop. How on earth could he have forgotten the love of his life? She would be heartbroken and may not recover from it. McCloud looked back at Dal`sgor with a look of stone and exclaimed, “How dare you, in your self proclaimed, mightier-than-thou attitude drag her into this mess! She has held true to the virtues more than I have!” Dal`sgor smiled as he looked at the raging human, “Calm down warrior, for I never said that I was dragging her into this mess. She is going when her time is ready, but, she will not be Jilliana after she’s leaves here, no more than you will be McCloud.” McCloud looked at him and said, “If she is not going to be left in this world, then I will have no reservations about leaving. What is my second test?” “Ah, the final test. This will be an even greater sacrifice to bear than Jilliana” said Dal`sgor. “You must donate all material items possessed by you, and I mean everything, mind you!” For a moment, McCloud faltered, “My beloved silver halberd? How can I part with that?” At that moment Dal`sgor seemed to read his mind. He stood, taller than McCloud had ever imagined, towering over him and all seemed to go dark around him to where he was the only thing in focus. A loud booming voice sprang from his throat, “You fool! I had thought you worthy of crossing over! You are no better than any other vermin in this forsaken world! Leave me at once, and live out the rest of your days in misery!” With this, McCloud turned and ran with all his strength. He did not look back, nor slow down until he was almost at his own home. While still trembling all over, he went in to seek his own bed. On the table, he found a note from Jilliana. With slow, trembling hands, he opened the letter,

My dearest McCloud,
I have long feared this day would come, especially after the leaving of Hunter. As you know, I was born in Brittan. One thing I failed to tell you over the years is that both my father and mother were great wizards in the city. I have long known that one day my path would take me away from you. I did not tell you this because I did not want your heart to be heavy with grief. Alas, my time has come, for last night I had the vision. After I finish this letter, I am going to Cove, just as Hunter did, and I shall meet with Ethilisan, a great wizard. He has summoned me and I must go. It is my hope that when your time is come, you will also venture to him and maybe by some strange twist of fate, our paths will cross again. Do not let your heart be heavy, for where I go must be a better place than this. I will promise you this, until our paths cross again, I will hold true to you and love no other. This I swear upon the love we shared in this lifetime.

Until we meet again,
Most sincerely yours,
Jilliana

McCloud could barely hold himself up now. His love has passed on and into a new world and he has destroyed his chance of following because he faltered over his halberd. “I must rest” he thought, although sleep would not come to him that night. “There must be a way” he said over and over in his mind. “How could I have been such a fool?” At last, after the cock had crowed the morning, he slipped off into a very light sleep. In a light misty dream, he saw Jilliana. She was smiling, and full of life, although she looked a bit different. She was a bit larger in build, more muscular, donning blue armor and wielding a sword in both hands. A sight she was to behold! At last, in the dream, she turned to him and softly stated, “Leave it all behind, there is still time.” Then the dream faded and he awoke to the morning.

Jumping up, he realized, “There is still time! I must hurry!” With that he stepped out onto the road, where a young adventurer was walking by. McCloud stopped him and said he wanted to talk. “From where do you fare, young man?” Stopping and looking surprised, the man replied, “Hail, and well met! I fare from Skara Brae. Costak is thy name.” “Hello Costak! Tell me, do you own a house in this world?” asked McCloud. Costak replied, “Oh, no sir. They are very expensive and I am still very young.” With that, McCloud handed him the key to the house. “You do now, lad. You do now. Keep it well; I will not need it.” Before Costak had a chance to argue the gift, McCloud sprinted off toward Vesper. Once he reached the bank, he opened the vault and starting casting any and all objects onto the ground. Many people flocked around grabbing and snatching anything that fall within reach. Gold pieces, by the thousand he dropped onto the ground, armor and various weapons he had in his keep. When finally the bank was empty, he drew out 2 deeds for his other houses. He sprinted off across the docks, weaving from street to street. At random locations he dropped the deeds to be found by whoever noticed them. Then all that was left was the items on his body. He wandered back into the main section of town and cast off his armor and other items in his pack. Finally, the only thing left was the beloved silver halberd. Long had this weapon been his favorite, wrought from pure silver so that no undead could escape its wraith. Imbued with magic so the attack was faster and the hit was harder. Quite notably, the best weapon he had ever possessed. But, this too was to be cast away before he could travel. He made haste to his own guild hall. Once there, he found that no one was to be found. The he remembered, “I sent them to fight the bandits!” he though. With all strength, he ran for the graveyard, entered the tomb and dropped down to the cavern below. Upon leaving the cavern at the other end, he found himself running northward, as hard as he could go. His stamina was great, but even this long journey wore him down. Finally he reached the northern entrance back to the hunting grounds of Minoc. He ran through and there he found a great battle being fought. “This must have went on all night” he though. Running as hard as he could, he found Othag, fighting five bandits at once. As he ran up, he could not let a dear friend fall, swinging his halberd; he stuck the deathly blow to three of them. Othag easily handled the other two on his own. The two exchanged handshakes and a hearty laugh. Then Othag noticed that McCloud was no longer armored. “What is going on Milord?” he asked inquisitively. “I am going on a trip, my friend. I fear I may not return. I have stocked the guild vault with many items that I will no longer need, but, there was one item left that I had to get to a rightful owner.” “Milord! No!” exclaimed Othag. “You can’t leave us!” “Aye, but I must. Time is wasting, and I can tarry no longer. Othag! I proclaim you to now be the leader of this guild. Make it strong, and hold true to the virtues!” proclaimed McCloud, and with that he handed the silver halberd to him as a symbol of his leadership. “I must go now. I will not forget any of you!” he said as he walked into the middle of the bandits. “Farewell!”

The bandits, knowing who McCloud was, gladly struck death upon him, his corpse left to rot. This did nothing but infuriate the guild. Weary men found the strength to fight once more. As a flood of men stormed by Othag, he felt a cold presence on his arm. Faintly he heard the words, “Yan halg dos van nagh ylem er wol`be ith.” Othag smiled and stated, “Yes, milord, give my regards to Hunter.” And with that, he stormed into battle to slay his share of bandits. McCloud knew that a ghost never tires on a run, so, as a spirit he could cover the ground more quickly to get back to Cove. The world was a nice shade of black and white, with gray highlights. No color could be seen in this state, nor could conversation be with anyone who could not speak spirit talk. So he ran, as fast as he could to the west. By mid evening, he reached the healer in the city of cove. The high priest sensed his presence and asked if he would like to be healed. McCloud gladly accepted the resurrection and bowed low to the healer. “Thank you kind sir!” he said as he bowed. Then he exited the tent and proceeded back to Dal`sgor. As soon as he entered, although the wizard sat with his back to him, he was told, “You have done well warrior. Come is beside me for a few.” McCloud moved back into the same seat he had set the day before. “I have made all arrangements, sir” stated McCloud, “I would like to leave this world now.” “And so you shall” said Dal`sgor, “I have made all my arrangements also. Stand and accept these spells, then make camp and sleep well!” McCloud stood in front of the wizard and awaited his final fate in this world. Two spells were cast, the first, a release agent from the bonds of this world. The second, he would not speak of, and to this day is unknown to any. McCloud quickly lay upon the ground and a deep sleep came over him. Then his body slowly faded away.

When McCloud awoke, he found himself in a very, very dark place. Nothing could be seen in any direction, either up or down. He had no sensation of falling or moving from the place in which he stood. Then, in the blink of an eye, a strange, shapeless entity appeared in front of him. It spoke without a mouth and moved without any arms or legs. All colors seem to come to and fro, yet nothing could be focused on with the eye. Then it spoke, “McCloud of Minoc, long was your name, but no more. You have proved yourself worthy and shall be placed into the next level of evolution for your kind. Be prepared, this world is much different that what you have known. Overall, the people there are all kind and fair, but there is still a great evil there, many great evils, to be exact. I will allow you to keep your memories, but I advise you do not reveal them to anyone. Many of the people you will meet are native to the lands and will not think highly of you for speaking of realms they do not know. Have you prepared yourself for this journey?” “I have sire, but if you could tell me; what shall I be called there?” asked McCloud. “I think for you, I shall give the name Daltroz, for it was used long, long ago in another realm that is long past forgotten. Accept it with honor, for the one who carried it is now living among the gods” so said the entity. “I will do so, and I am ready for my journey” McCloud, or, Daltroz said. “Farewell my child. There is much to learn!” And with that, Daltroz felt himself flying through nothingness. He could not tell how far he had gone, but he knew he was traveling a great distance in a short time. Then a small spot of light appeared in front of him, and was growing ever so quickly. At last, the light overtook him and he knew nothing.

When finally he awoke, he stood before a great tree. It was carved out in the center, as to make a resemblance of a house, or large room. Inside stood people casting spells and talking in a strange tongue. “Oh great” he thought “they sent me to live with wizards.” Then as he started to inspect his own pack, he found a spell book inside. His heart was pounding, fearing the worse. That he too had been transformed into a wizard. When he opened the book, he found a strange emblem imbued upon it. “What is this emblem” he thought, “someone here must know?” He then walked toward a person named Te`anara. She greeted him politely. When he asked what the emblem was, she replied, “It is the mark of a druid, same as I.” “A druid? How odd,” thought Daltroz, “a druid? So now I am a spell caster. This shall take some getting used to.”

With that behind, he equipped his small club that he was given and sit down to scribe the two spells he had in his pack. When that was finished, he proceeded to walk down a long cave and eventually came out into a vast open area. There were a few giant rats roaming, but nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. And thus he set out, a new quest, and a new life. He often wondered of his old friends and especially of Jilliana. Inspecting himself one more time, he took note that he had some food, some water. “That should suffice me for a while” he thought. Then he started his new life. He couldn’t help but wonder what friends he would make, what thrills he would experience and what grand adventures he would have. “This is only the beginning, and I feel young again!” he said out loud as he ran off.

Daltroz

Back to Top

Out of the shadows, she emerges… mysterious, silent and deadly.
The cold surroundings of her youth have formed her to be fierce of spirit.
With weapons at the ready, she is an honor-bound knight from the dark side.

Her scale-covered body is lean; her limbs agile and her stance alert.
Few would expect to find a female in her role; and this she relishes.
Her kind, hated throughout much of the world, creates a wary traveler.

Using the magic of the necromancer, she has learned to hunt and fight.
Sparks fly as the spells strengthen her weapons and weaken the opponent.
A whiny skeletal pet – summoned to her side – cackles as the foes fall.

A flick of her tail is all the warning given before she strikes.
Could it be that she enjoys her opponents’ pain and torment?
Her unmoving face tells no tales, but the gleam in her eyes speaks volumes.

Shenghai © 2002 - 2007 (aka Hypatia)

Back to Top