This one-off short story was prompted by this thread:
http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?p=2049997#post2049997
and a depressed friend dealing with too much work and a sick child... I hope it cheers him up, and who knows? Maybe somebody, here, will get something useful out of it. Who knows?
========================================================
Know then, oh King, that the tales of Eredave are incomplete... for this tale, of his first death, he has related to only a few. I, your humble servant and Royal Bard, am among them...
In those selfsame days, at the siege of the Fortress of Baragond, after the Lord Dendregid was bearded in his lair after the Fortress was breached, then did the Delgothian Archers, those mercenaries who backed the Lord Dendregid, show their hand. Among the besiegers of the Fortress was Eredave, the Elven Ranger, and his party of bold adventurers... Into the very heart of the Fortress they sped, while the troops of Lords Vincifil and Manardil continued the breach of the walls.
Through the many milling men-at-arms they ran, avoiding where they could, and fighting where they must. Many officers of Lord Dendregid's army died, and many of the Fortress' defences they destroyed, but always the evil Lord they sought, knowing full well that he was prepared in ambush for their coming.
Finally, they found him. And like a boar in his lair, Lord Dendregid fought fiercly, even as a rat will, when it must. His Clerics and Mages tore apart the weave with magical energies, and the heroes of Ruathlar countered them. Many men died, and one by one, the heroes all fell. While the evil Lord Dendregid, too, was thrown down that day, Eredave fought almost until the last. As others went down behind him, he charged Lord Dendregid, alone, seeking to reach him with his claws...
Then did Lord Dendregid reveal the Archers, who sprang forth, spraying the room with arrows, and Eredave fell, almost at the Lord's feet, pierced through the heart by many arrows, like a porcupine covered in quills. Charga, the Barbarian from far Ruthas-Tor then cleaved the Lord Dendregid in twain, but Alas! He, too, was smitten, even as he smote, and his corpse fell atop the evil Lord's...
But, nay, oh my King (may you live forever!), the tale does not end there... it is merely beginning! For, from the mouth of Eredave, this is what he then saw!
I blinked, finding myself in a great hall; greater than any I had ever seen. I looked down at my chest, seeking the arrows that had pierced me through, and saw only a robe of glaring white, unblemished by bloodstains. I snatched it away from my chest, and saw no wounds beneath, only clean under-garments, woven into the robe...
As I looked around me, the great hall was filled with folk of all descriptions, each arrayed in a robe in manner similar to mine, but in many different colors... Some were cloudy black, others a deepest violet, some a bright, shining green, and some of an unsteady, changing hue... Even as I looked, those around me moved forward a pace.
I tried to step to the side, but my shoulder hit a wall that my eyes could not see. I was forced to move along with the rest, like cattle through stiles...
Looking more closely at those around me, I caught sight of one of the enemy soldiers that I had slain in the attack on the Fortress, some distance ahead of me, and clad in violet. I yelled and moved forward, only to hear my own voice dimmed and muffled, and to find myself unable to move past the man in front of me!
Turning, the old Human, clad in a golden robe, leaned closer to me, motioning for me to do the same. When I did, he spoke, although I scarce could hear him.
"Sound doesn't seem to carry, here, friend... You can barely speak to those next to you. Anyone else is beyond your reach, and we do not seem to be able to move out of line..."
And thus it went... For a long time, we moved slowly forward, knowing not whither we went. I looked at those near me, and spoke to the man ahead. My last memories were of the siege upon the Fortress, and of the arrows piercing my heart, and of beginning to fall... The next, of being here. The old man, Thangor of Helios, had been asleep in his bed, after a long sickness, and awakened here...
After slowly moving forward for an unimaginably long time, I caught sight of Charga, far behind me. It took much jumping and waving, but I finally managed to attract his attention. He tried to come to me, but was as trapped as I. We spent much time trying to communicate through signalling, before we both gave up. We could not speak, or win free. The walls around us, though transparent, were unclimbable...
All of my gear was gone, right down to my boots. My bare feet trod the cool stones of... whatever this place might be. I had tried disbelieving it as illusions, but to no avail. So, there being nothing I could do, I did nothing... I did nothing for a very long time...
After what seemed days, I descried something ahead of me. Slowly, we approached it, and I could see a being. It was white, and a bit like a squid, with a large, bald, bulbous head, and tentacles. With nothing else to do, I watched it as we slowly crawled nearer, and occasionally spoke to Thangor. The woman behind me was Dellah, of Rent. She was a poor commoner, and as confused as the rest of us. Her robe was grey. She seemed very poor, and uneducated, unlike Thangor.
Eventually, we came near to the unknown being, who might have been a Modron, of some sort that I have never heard of, before (those strange, seemingly mechanical beings of the Plane of Mechanus, where the Lords of Law dwell). In any case, when we were close enough to dimly hear, he asked Thangor his name, and whom he worshipped...
"I am an Agnostic" Thangor replied.
"Oh, one of those, eh?" asked the creature. With the pull of a tentacle upon a lever, Thangor was gone. The creature looked at me.
"Name?" I didn't want to answer. It eyed me.
"Eredave", I admitted.
"Whom do you worship?" asked the being, sounding incredibly bored. This angered me.
"I am a Ranger! I walk in the dark where others cannot go! I stand upon the bridge and none may pass! I live for the One, I die for the One! I serve the One True and Living God!"
Bored eyes barely looked at me, as a tentacle flicked up, pointing at me. I rose up, moving through the air, and was whisked away, upwards. I quickly lost sight of Dellah.
Soon after, I found myself in another grey hallway, with the same walls of force... The only difference was, this time, there were only three colors of robes present... White, Golden, and Green. Once again, the long lines, slowly streaming forward. Once again, what seemed days of waiting...
Needless to say, I had a long time to think. I tried climbing, again, to no effect. I also tried scrabbling at the stones, but could pry none up. I wished that I had a Disintegrate spell, but then realized that I no longer remembered the spells that I had had memorized, before the attack...
I began to wonder if I was dead... Had I died, and passed beyong the world? Was I dead, and going to my eternal reward? If so, I thought, this was a poor reception! The long lines continued. Fortunately, I felt no hunger, thirst, weariness, nor pain. Even pinching myself didn't hurt, so I soon stopped.
The two men around me were Beregond and Bregor. One was a mercenary, the other a bricklayer. I had never heard of the places that they were from, nor did they know of mine. We talked a little, but we waited much.
Eventually, we came to a... "Waiting Room", I suppose... and there we waited, of course. One by one, a being holding a board to which some sort of papers seemed afixed would come out, and apparently speak to whoever was then the first in line. That person would pass through large, double doors, and the line would advance. At least here, there were chairs!
I wished Bregor well, as the angelic, winged being came out once more. It spoke to him, and then he was gone... Shortly thereafter, I heard the first clear word I had heard in this place:
"Eredave!"
I rose, waving farewell to Beregond, and walked through the doord, going to meet my doom. As is always the case in such matters, it was not what I had expected...
And here, oh King, I pray thee have me excused, for words failed the Ranger. "Naughtt in Nature can describe the things I saw, nor can my memory contain them", Eredave told me. And if a Poet cannot describe what he saw, then how can a mere Bard who was not there? Nevertheless, the tale has not ended...
I cannot describe what I saw, for there are no words in Nature capable of describing the Supernatural; there are no words in the Woods to paint it with... and though I speak the tongue of Celestials, even they pale, and are poor, mean things to describe...
Meeting the One.
"And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgement..."
"For we know him that hath said, Vengeance belongeth unto me, I will recompense, saith the Lord. And again, The Lord shall judge his people. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God."
And so I met my Lord, for the second time, and the first, in the flesh... (if flesh I had). And I was judged. Well, and truely... The hardest part is, I cannot even object that I was judged too harshly, or without knowledge... All of my deeds, and words, and even secret thought were called into question. All of my failures of will (or willful disobediences); all of my laziness; all of my sloth; all of my wrong-headed notions; all of my pettiness; all of my secret pride... even the lies that I told to myself (and believed!). All of it. Even before we were half-way through my childhood, I knew for a certainty that I was damned... eternally!
And it went on... (and on, and on, and on...)! My whole life. Right up to my final "failure" to dodge (for which I was not condemned)! And then, we began, again!
This time, however, all of the things that I had done right in my life were pointed out. All of the sacrifices; all of the times that I had helped someone; all of the times that I had grasped someone, at the limits of their strength (or beyond), and pulled them through; all of the lives that I had touched, many in ways that were thoughtless or careless, but which had had more profound affects than I could see; tiny kindnesses given with no thought of rewards...
Unfortunately, this took far less time. Too many times, my motives were tainted by desires for personal gain. Too many inactions... Too many failures of faith, insight, preparation, courage... Too many things.
My failures mounted high. My rewards were a very small pile, in comparison. I knew I was doomed.
Fearful, indeed...
The listings of my life were done. Judgement was about to be rendered. I was asked if I had anything to say; anything to add... I tried to say "I tried", but was unable to choke out the words. I shrugged, then sighed, and awaited my sentence.
Again, it was not what I expected. Nor was it what I deserved.
I was guilty, and worthy of damnation. I was saved, because I had believed. The fire passed across the works of my life, and most of them went up in smoke... Among the pitiful ruins were a few gleams, here and there, but they were few. But the other side of the scale was empty... All the failures, of whatever sort, had been burned to ash and washed away, and nothing remained to accuse me... Not because of any great deed that I had done, not because of any great work... just because I had believed, and put my faith in the One!
And then came yet another surprise... In my many misadventures, one involved a certain unknown being of great power, who sent me to some strange realm... and once there, I found that I had gained (or been given... or cursed with) the power to become any sort of cat, up to a power equal to my own...
And as we all know, cats have nine lives...
So here I am, again, working on number two, it would seem. I hope it's a long time before I die, again... I'm quite certain that I have no desire to repeat that experience...
And this, oh King, is the tale of how Eredave, the Elven Ranger, survived the siege of the Fortress of Baragond, after the Lord Dendregid was bearded in his lair after the Fortress was breached, and how Eredave survived, though all the Heroes of Ruathlar died, there, that day. It is a strange tale, oh my King (may you live forever!), but just as your humble servant received it from the mouth of the ancient Elf.
Also, oh King, be informed that I have confirmed that there was a man named Thangor, formerly of the city of Helios, who was known to be an agnostic. Of Dellah of Rent I have found no word, nor has Charga the Barbarian ever returned...
http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?p=2049997#post2049997
and a depressed friend dealing with too much work and a sick child... I hope it cheers him up, and who knows? Maybe somebody, here, will get something useful out of it. Who knows?
========================================================
Know then, oh King, that the tales of Eredave are incomplete... for this tale, of his first death, he has related to only a few. I, your humble servant and Royal Bard, am among them...
In those selfsame days, at the siege of the Fortress of Baragond, after the Lord Dendregid was bearded in his lair after the Fortress was breached, then did the Delgothian Archers, those mercenaries who backed the Lord Dendregid, show their hand. Among the besiegers of the Fortress was Eredave, the Elven Ranger, and his party of bold adventurers... Into the very heart of the Fortress they sped, while the troops of Lords Vincifil and Manardil continued the breach of the walls.
Through the many milling men-at-arms they ran, avoiding where they could, and fighting where they must. Many officers of Lord Dendregid's army died, and many of the Fortress' defences they destroyed, but always the evil Lord they sought, knowing full well that he was prepared in ambush for their coming.
Finally, they found him. And like a boar in his lair, Lord Dendregid fought fiercly, even as a rat will, when it must. His Clerics and Mages tore apart the weave with magical energies, and the heroes of Ruathlar countered them. Many men died, and one by one, the heroes all fell. While the evil Lord Dendregid, too, was thrown down that day, Eredave fought almost until the last. As others went down behind him, he charged Lord Dendregid, alone, seeking to reach him with his claws...
Then did Lord Dendregid reveal the Archers, who sprang forth, spraying the room with arrows, and Eredave fell, almost at the Lord's feet, pierced through the heart by many arrows, like a porcupine covered in quills. Charga, the Barbarian from far Ruthas-Tor then cleaved the Lord Dendregid in twain, but Alas! He, too, was smitten, even as he smote, and his corpse fell atop the evil Lord's...
But, nay, oh my King (may you live forever!), the tale does not end there... it is merely beginning! For, from the mouth of Eredave, this is what he then saw!
I blinked, finding myself in a great hall; greater than any I had ever seen. I looked down at my chest, seeking the arrows that had pierced me through, and saw only a robe of glaring white, unblemished by bloodstains. I snatched it away from my chest, and saw no wounds beneath, only clean under-garments, woven into the robe...
As I looked around me, the great hall was filled with folk of all descriptions, each arrayed in a robe in manner similar to mine, but in many different colors... Some were cloudy black, others a deepest violet, some a bright, shining green, and some of an unsteady, changing hue... Even as I looked, those around me moved forward a pace.
I tried to step to the side, but my shoulder hit a wall that my eyes could not see. I was forced to move along with the rest, like cattle through stiles...
Looking more closely at those around me, I caught sight of one of the enemy soldiers that I had slain in the attack on the Fortress, some distance ahead of me, and clad in violet. I yelled and moved forward, only to hear my own voice dimmed and muffled, and to find myself unable to move past the man in front of me!
Turning, the old Human, clad in a golden robe, leaned closer to me, motioning for me to do the same. When I did, he spoke, although I scarce could hear him.
"Sound doesn't seem to carry, here, friend... You can barely speak to those next to you. Anyone else is beyond your reach, and we do not seem to be able to move out of line..."
And thus it went... For a long time, we moved slowly forward, knowing not whither we went. I looked at those near me, and spoke to the man ahead. My last memories were of the siege upon the Fortress, and of the arrows piercing my heart, and of beginning to fall... The next, of being here. The old man, Thangor of Helios, had been asleep in his bed, after a long sickness, and awakened here...
After slowly moving forward for an unimaginably long time, I caught sight of Charga, far behind me. It took much jumping and waving, but I finally managed to attract his attention. He tried to come to me, but was as trapped as I. We spent much time trying to communicate through signalling, before we both gave up. We could not speak, or win free. The walls around us, though transparent, were unclimbable...
All of my gear was gone, right down to my boots. My bare feet trod the cool stones of... whatever this place might be. I had tried disbelieving it as illusions, but to no avail. So, there being nothing I could do, I did nothing... I did nothing for a very long time...
After what seemed days, I descried something ahead of me. Slowly, we approached it, and I could see a being. It was white, and a bit like a squid, with a large, bald, bulbous head, and tentacles. With nothing else to do, I watched it as we slowly crawled nearer, and occasionally spoke to Thangor. The woman behind me was Dellah, of Rent. She was a poor commoner, and as confused as the rest of us. Her robe was grey. She seemed very poor, and uneducated, unlike Thangor.
Eventually, we came near to the unknown being, who might have been a Modron, of some sort that I have never heard of, before (those strange, seemingly mechanical beings of the Plane of Mechanus, where the Lords of Law dwell). In any case, when we were close enough to dimly hear, he asked Thangor his name, and whom he worshipped...
"I am an Agnostic" Thangor replied.
"Oh, one of those, eh?" asked the creature. With the pull of a tentacle upon a lever, Thangor was gone. The creature looked at me.
"Name?" I didn't want to answer. It eyed me.
"Eredave", I admitted.
"Whom do you worship?" asked the being, sounding incredibly bored. This angered me.
"I am a Ranger! I walk in the dark where others cannot go! I stand upon the bridge and none may pass! I live for the One, I die for the One! I serve the One True and Living God!"
Bored eyes barely looked at me, as a tentacle flicked up, pointing at me. I rose up, moving through the air, and was whisked away, upwards. I quickly lost sight of Dellah.
Soon after, I found myself in another grey hallway, with the same walls of force... The only difference was, this time, there were only three colors of robes present... White, Golden, and Green. Once again, the long lines, slowly streaming forward. Once again, what seemed days of waiting...
Needless to say, I had a long time to think. I tried climbing, again, to no effect. I also tried scrabbling at the stones, but could pry none up. I wished that I had a Disintegrate spell, but then realized that I no longer remembered the spells that I had had memorized, before the attack...
I began to wonder if I was dead... Had I died, and passed beyong the world? Was I dead, and going to my eternal reward? If so, I thought, this was a poor reception! The long lines continued. Fortunately, I felt no hunger, thirst, weariness, nor pain. Even pinching myself didn't hurt, so I soon stopped.
The two men around me were Beregond and Bregor. One was a mercenary, the other a bricklayer. I had never heard of the places that they were from, nor did they know of mine. We talked a little, but we waited much.
Eventually, we came to a... "Waiting Room", I suppose... and there we waited, of course. One by one, a being holding a board to which some sort of papers seemed afixed would come out, and apparently speak to whoever was then the first in line. That person would pass through large, double doors, and the line would advance. At least here, there were chairs!
I wished Bregor well, as the angelic, winged being came out once more. It spoke to him, and then he was gone... Shortly thereafter, I heard the first clear word I had heard in this place:
"Eredave!"
I rose, waving farewell to Beregond, and walked through the doord, going to meet my doom. As is always the case in such matters, it was not what I had expected...
And here, oh King, I pray thee have me excused, for words failed the Ranger. "Naughtt in Nature can describe the things I saw, nor can my memory contain them", Eredave told me. And if a Poet cannot describe what he saw, then how can a mere Bard who was not there? Nevertheless, the tale has not ended...
I cannot describe what I saw, for there are no words in Nature capable of describing the Supernatural; there are no words in the Woods to paint it with... and though I speak the tongue of Celestials, even they pale, and are poor, mean things to describe...
Meeting the One.
"And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgement..."
"For we know him that hath said, Vengeance belongeth unto me, I will recompense, saith the Lord. And again, The Lord shall judge his people. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God."
And so I met my Lord, for the second time, and the first, in the flesh... (if flesh I had). And I was judged. Well, and truely... The hardest part is, I cannot even object that I was judged too harshly, or without knowledge... All of my deeds, and words, and even secret thought were called into question. All of my failures of will (or willful disobediences); all of my laziness; all of my sloth; all of my wrong-headed notions; all of my pettiness; all of my secret pride... even the lies that I told to myself (and believed!). All of it. Even before we were half-way through my childhood, I knew for a certainty that I was damned... eternally!
And it went on... (and on, and on, and on...)! My whole life. Right up to my final "failure" to dodge (for which I was not condemned)! And then, we began, again!
This time, however, all of the things that I had done right in my life were pointed out. All of the sacrifices; all of the times that I had helped someone; all of the times that I had grasped someone, at the limits of their strength (or beyond), and pulled them through; all of the lives that I had touched, many in ways that were thoughtless or careless, but which had had more profound affects than I could see; tiny kindnesses given with no thought of rewards...
Unfortunately, this took far less time. Too many times, my motives were tainted by desires for personal gain. Too many inactions... Too many failures of faith, insight, preparation, courage... Too many things.
My failures mounted high. My rewards were a very small pile, in comparison. I knew I was doomed.
Fearful, indeed...
The listings of my life were done. Judgement was about to be rendered. I was asked if I had anything to say; anything to add... I tried to say "I tried", but was unable to choke out the words. I shrugged, then sighed, and awaited my sentence.
Again, it was not what I expected. Nor was it what I deserved.
I was guilty, and worthy of damnation. I was saved, because I had believed. The fire passed across the works of my life, and most of them went up in smoke... Among the pitiful ruins were a few gleams, here and there, but they were few. But the other side of the scale was empty... All the failures, of whatever sort, had been burned to ash and washed away, and nothing remained to accuse me... Not because of any great deed that I had done, not because of any great work... just because I had believed, and put my faith in the One!
And then came yet another surprise... In my many misadventures, one involved a certain unknown being of great power, who sent me to some strange realm... and once there, I found that I had gained (or been given... or cursed with) the power to become any sort of cat, up to a power equal to my own...
And as we all know, cats have nine lives...
So here I am, again, working on number two, it would seem. I hope it's a long time before I die, again... I'm quite certain that I have no desire to repeat that experience...
And this, oh King, is the tale of how Eredave, the Elven Ranger, survived the siege of the Fortress of Baragond, after the Lord Dendregid was bearded in his lair after the Fortress was breached, and how Eredave survived, though all the Heroes of Ruathlar died, there, that day. It is a strange tale, oh my King (may you live forever!), but just as your humble servant received it from the mouth of the ancient Elf.
Also, oh King, be informed that I have confirmed that there was a man named Thangor, formerly of the city of Helios, who was known to be an agnostic. Of Dellah of Rent I have found no word, nor has Charga the Barbarian ever returned...
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