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[FR]The Return of the Heroes of the Vilhon Reach (updated 8/20!)
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<blockquote data-quote="Broccli_Head" data-source="post: 798406" data-attributes="member: 105"><p><strong>Early Summer, 1378, Year of the Cauldron</strong></p><p></p><p><em> The undead thing stared at him with its empty, lightless sockets. From its twisted, half-skeletal mouth a raspy laugh of triumph issued as it approached. He could not move. It tore the straps of his armor loose allowing the breastplate to hang askance and making him even more vulnerable. Then came the pain as the lich touched his exposed flesh and burned him again and again and again....He tried to scream but could not....</em></p><p></p><p>Benito Moltos sat up and clutched his abdomen, breathing heavily. It had only been another nightmare. He looked to see if he had disturbed his Johanna, his wife. She turned over in bed, disturbed by his sudden movements, but still very much asleep. Dawn was already creeping over the mountains and into his chamber and the rays of sun touched the crib where his daughter Samantha lay. He muttered a small prayer to Ilmater, thanking his god that the torture he had just re-lived had only been a dream. Then as he watched his 2-yr old reach out and touch the sun, he gave thanks to Lathander for his blessing. He heart still raced too much for him to return to his slumber so he reached over to grab <em>Mano</em> leaning as it usually did against the headboard within easy reach and slowly rolled from the bed careful not to awaken his precious loved ones. </p><p></p><p>The air inside his bedchamber was still warm but when he stepped outsided the crisp, morning air hit him. He wrapped his robes tighter and strapped his swordbelt around his waist as he headed towards the Shrine of Ilmater. He had not had that nightmare for some time and he needed to meditate. He could not dismiss the dream as coincidence. </p><p></p><p>Ever since that fateful day when he was nearly utterly destroyed by the elven lich Torvyndaar the Mighty, his life had changed. He remembered the fragments of vision as he lay staring up at the lich as it had kicked him into the <em>prismatic sphere</em>, then the gods Tyr and Ilmater standing over him with Suldolphin acting as his advocate. </p><p></p><p><em>How Unworthy am I!</em> he spoke in his head glancing at the sky. </p><p></p><p>Rawrrk, his companion and guardian these five years bounded towards him. Ilmater had claimed him and given him another chance. No longer did he walk the path of justice, but instead in his sandles and grey robes trod the path of mercy. His armor and shield lay behind him somewhere in Cormyr. Only <em>Mano</em> remained. </p><p></p><p>He had sold most of his possessions on the journey North and had finally settled near Jalanthar in the Silver Marches. At first he had been a hermit and smith helping the village here and there, contemplating what to do and even whom to worship. During those first years, pangs of guilt assaulted him constantly. He had caused one of Tyr's hosts to be permanently destroyed. He had failed his companions. He had been responsible for the fall of Irieabor. </p><p></p><p>But Ilmater had forgiven him. Bringing back Johanna's little sister from the dead had heralded his new road. The villagers suffered less after that. He took a wife. They had had a daughter. He had funded and built almost by hand and nearly alone the modest Shrine to Ilmater nestled in the foothills of the Nether Mountains. Life had changed dramatically. </p><p></p><p>During the last five years he had only seen Grim. The halfling had stopped in a few times over the years and had been his only former companion to contact him. On the second occassion Grim had been able to attend his wedding. The halfling had also been able to meet Samantha. From his other friends, there had been no word, no message, no <em>sending</em>. </p><p></p><p>Benito sighed as he entered the temple with the hound archon at his side, still in its canine form. He dutifully lit the braziers so the modest sanctum could warm up then sat-cross-legged to medidate. As he sunk into his state, he felt something sinister. Rawrrk growled and Benito jumped to his feet, drawing <em>Mano</em>, though more than likely, any threat would be dealt with through the power divine granted to him by Ilmater. </p><p></p><p>A shambling humanoid creature crashed with in-human strength through the doors to the shrine. Benito recognized the abomination that had become Mourn right away and instantly began to weep even as Rawrrk closed with the revenant and was tossed aside. Benito called on Ilmater and <em>healed</em> the undead creature that had once been his friend. Mourn-thing burned with holy fire and stumbled back. It rapidly recovered and its grimy nails tore into Benito. Rawrrk recovered and struck with his holy sword as Benito brought <em>Mano</em> to bear, and the servants of Ilmater felled their foe. Benito thought he heard a word of thanks as the corpse of Mourn rapidly deteriorated as the five years caught up with it, the unholy magicks that kept the revenant going now gone. </p><p></p><p>Benito thought of Home and ran for the cottage. Rawrrk checked on the acolytes. All was well, though now all were awakened from the commotion. He sent two acolytes to town to see if there had been anything strange while he set about to bury and consecrate Mourn, clean the blood and gore from the shrine and repair the door. Rawrrk dutifully guarded Johanna and Samantha.</p><p></p><p>**</p><p></p><p>Although Benito kept glancing at the sky expecting Torvyndaar to come swooping down upon them riding a dragon, nothing happened. Despite his wariness, he was able to finish his tasks and was placing the last hinge on the new door when the acolytes returned with an escort of the Argent Legion. The captain handed him a message. </p><p></p><p>"It was left by a mage and an easterner in full plate armor. They did not explain," offered the officer. </p><p></p><p>Benito looked at it suspicious of traps, but confident he could absorb any damage dealt to him, and seeing to it that no one vulnerable was near him, he opened the envelope and pulled out a letter. It was simple and upon it, written in elegant Thorass it read:</p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'courier new'"><em><span style="color: skyblue">You are cordially invited to the wedding of Alberia Dorthandotter, House Lhal to Aris Cloud-dancer al-D'hib to be held on Midsummer at Dragonstorm Castle. </span></em></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'courier new'"><em><span style="color: skyblue"></span></em></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'courier new'"><em><span style="color: skyblue">No RSVP is neccessary and all are welcome!</span></em></span> </p><p></p><p>Benito closed his eyes and crumpled the letter. </p><p></p><p>"Perhaps, then, Ilmater, it is time."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Broccli_Head, post: 798406, member: 105"] [b]Early Summer, 1378, Year of the Cauldron[/b] [i] The undead thing stared at him with its empty, lightless sockets. From its twisted, half-skeletal mouth a raspy laugh of triumph issued as it approached. He could not move. It tore the straps of his armor loose allowing the breastplate to hang askance and making him even more vulnerable. Then came the pain as the lich touched his exposed flesh and burned him again and again and again....He tried to scream but could not....[/i] Benito Moltos sat up and clutched his abdomen, breathing heavily. It had only been another nightmare. He looked to see if he had disturbed his Johanna, his wife. She turned over in bed, disturbed by his sudden movements, but still very much asleep. Dawn was already creeping over the mountains and into his chamber and the rays of sun touched the crib where his daughter Samantha lay. He muttered a small prayer to Ilmater, thanking his god that the torture he had just re-lived had only been a dream. Then as he watched his 2-yr old reach out and touch the sun, he gave thanks to Lathander for his blessing. He heart still raced too much for him to return to his slumber so he reached over to grab [i]Mano[/i] leaning as it usually did against the headboard within easy reach and slowly rolled from the bed careful not to awaken his precious loved ones. The air inside his bedchamber was still warm but when he stepped outsided the crisp, morning air hit him. He wrapped his robes tighter and strapped his swordbelt around his waist as he headed towards the Shrine of Ilmater. He had not had that nightmare for some time and he needed to meditate. He could not dismiss the dream as coincidence. Ever since that fateful day when he was nearly utterly destroyed by the elven lich Torvyndaar the Mighty, his life had changed. He remembered the fragments of vision as he lay staring up at the lich as it had kicked him into the [i]prismatic sphere[/i], then the gods Tyr and Ilmater standing over him with Suldolphin acting as his advocate. [i]How Unworthy am I![/i] he spoke in his head glancing at the sky. Rawrrk, his companion and guardian these five years bounded towards him. Ilmater had claimed him and given him another chance. No longer did he walk the path of justice, but instead in his sandles and grey robes trod the path of mercy. His armor and shield lay behind him somewhere in Cormyr. Only [i]Mano[/i] remained. He had sold most of his possessions on the journey North and had finally settled near Jalanthar in the Silver Marches. At first he had been a hermit and smith helping the village here and there, contemplating what to do and even whom to worship. During those first years, pangs of guilt assaulted him constantly. He had caused one of Tyr's hosts to be permanently destroyed. He had failed his companions. He had been responsible for the fall of Irieabor. But Ilmater had forgiven him. Bringing back Johanna's little sister from the dead had heralded his new road. The villagers suffered less after that. He took a wife. They had had a daughter. He had funded and built almost by hand and nearly alone the modest Shrine to Ilmater nestled in the foothills of the Nether Mountains. Life had changed dramatically. During the last five years he had only seen Grim. The halfling had stopped in a few times over the years and had been his only former companion to contact him. On the second occassion Grim had been able to attend his wedding. The halfling had also been able to meet Samantha. From his other friends, there had been no word, no message, no [i]sending[/i]. Benito sighed as he entered the temple with the hound archon at his side, still in its canine form. He dutifully lit the braziers so the modest sanctum could warm up then sat-cross-legged to medidate. As he sunk into his state, he felt something sinister. Rawrrk growled and Benito jumped to his feet, drawing [i]Mano[/i], though more than likely, any threat would be dealt with through the power divine granted to him by Ilmater. A shambling humanoid creature crashed with in-human strength through the doors to the shrine. Benito recognized the abomination that had become Mourn right away and instantly began to weep even as Rawrrk closed with the revenant and was tossed aside. Benito called on Ilmater and [i]healed[/i] the undead creature that had once been his friend. Mourn-thing burned with holy fire and stumbled back. It rapidly recovered and its grimy nails tore into Benito. Rawrrk recovered and struck with his holy sword as Benito brought [i]Mano[/i] to bear, and the servants of Ilmater felled their foe. Benito thought he heard a word of thanks as the corpse of Mourn rapidly deteriorated as the five years caught up with it, the unholy magicks that kept the revenant going now gone. Benito thought of Home and ran for the cottage. Rawrrk checked on the acolytes. All was well, though now all were awakened from the commotion. He sent two acolytes to town to see if there had been anything strange while he set about to bury and consecrate Mourn, clean the blood and gore from the shrine and repair the door. Rawrrk dutifully guarded Johanna and Samantha. ** Although Benito kept glancing at the sky expecting Torvyndaar to come swooping down upon them riding a dragon, nothing happened. Despite his wariness, he was able to finish his tasks and was placing the last hinge on the new door when the acolytes returned with an escort of the Argent Legion. The captain handed him a message. "It was left by a mage and an easterner in full plate armor. They did not explain," offered the officer. Benito looked at it suspicious of traps, but confident he could absorb any damage dealt to him, and seeing to it that no one vulnerable was near him, he opened the envelope and pulled out a letter. It was simple and upon it, written in elegant Thorass it read: [FONT=courier new][i][color=skyblue]You are cordially invited to the wedding of Alberia Dorthandotter, House Lhal to Aris Cloud-dancer al-D'hib to be held on Midsummer at Dragonstorm Castle. No RSVP is neccessary and all are welcome![/color][/i][/FONT][i][color=skyblue] [/color][/i][color=skyblue][/color] Benito closed his eyes and crumpled the letter. "Perhaps, then, Ilmater, it is time." [/QUOTE]
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[FR]The Return of the Heroes of the Vilhon Reach (updated 8/20!)
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