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Sir Gerard d'Montfort - In his own words (a tale of Anka Seth)- Updated Nov 11th
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<blockquote data-quote="Haraash Saan" data-source="post: 5173749" data-attributes="member: 46615"><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">A drum beat, slowly, repeatedly. I heard a harp join the beat and some pipes add an entrancing melody. My eyes flickered open and I winced in the bright sunlight. I stood on a hill that sloped gently away in front of me. At the base of the hill was a glorious palace, it was from here that I heard the enchanting music.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">I ambled forward through the long wavy grass. It rustled soothingly as my legs brushed against it. A cool breeze blew across my face taking some of the sun’s heat from it. A bird swooped in the near distance. I hear the familiar buzz of bees collecting nectar from the wildflowers. I felt light, and at peace. </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Soon the cobbled floor of the palace echoed as my bare feet slapped against the stone. Columns surrounded me going so high that I lost sight of them in the darkness of the ceiling. </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">It seemed as though I had walked for an age through the great columns, but I kept moving toward the lovely music.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">As I walked the illumination provided by the torches slowly began to dim. The music, which was at first crisp and clear, was now dull and muted. I began to run. </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The stone carved columns flashed past me as I ran. And soon the torchlight ceased and I was running in darkness, trying to reach the music. Then all was silent. I was left in the noiseless dark. I tried to turn around, thinking to return from whence I had come, but found that my feet no longer felt the cobbles beneath them. </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Then I heard Laster’s powerful and beautiful voice, “Gerard d’Montfort. Now is not your time. I still need you.”</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">It was early evening when I woke. “’bout time.” Grumbled Argonne. “Obviously Foeld didn’t think that you needed to be hurried, but I’ve been sitting on my arse waiting for you to wake for hours.”</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Once again I owed my life to my friends. It was Morgan’s quick action that stifled the bleeding from my stump, and Foeld’s blessing given to me by Argonne that sealed the wound. Without them I would have stayed in Pandemonium, but Laster had obviously still not finished with me.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Mortec had not been the only casualty of Zhontell’s ill thought out action, Zwingly, Argonne’s skunk had suffered the same fate. However Argonne was unperturbed. “Foeld will return Zwingly to me, perhaps in a more useful form.” He said somewhat casually.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Argonne also revealed that Morgan had discovered that Prince Brand had already taken swift action, most likely to seize the throne for himself. He had dispatched five of his cronies to gather up his armies and march them to the capital. Not the action of someone that was happy to rule as regent until his sister returned.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The woodsman explained that Moxadder had been able to identify the ghost that was trapped in his dagger. For indeed it had been sucked into the blade as I had thought, not destroyed. Somehow it resided within the magical steel of the dagger of Geir.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The ghost was one General Narblec, an important minion of Arcanus, one of the Dominions barrow lords.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">That was most disturbing news. We had just captured one of the Dominions favourite tools. If that was discovered we could only expect swift and painful retribution. </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">However, the news did point to one thing, that the Dominion was involved in the assassination of King Thurrland II.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Soon after Argonne had completed telling me the latest developments, the others began to trickle into my room. Moxadder brought with him the possessions of Irveil that he had managed to ‘borrow’ from the corpse but it was Zhontell that brought the most surprising and wonderful thing, Mortec!</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Immediately after falling, the little Gnome had been scooped up by Zhontell, no doubt feeling guilt at causing his death (and nearly mine), and rushed with all speed to the High Priest of Laster, Prelate Gosforth. A donation of an amazing sum of sickles to the church ensured that Mortec’s spirit was brought back from it’s journey to The Outlands, the heaven in which Todesmagie resides. Why a Lasterian priest would spend so much effort (for I have been told that such favors from the gods cause considerable physical distress to the priest) reviving the follower of another faith is beyond me. Well perhaps not. Afterall a large donation is always appreciated by the church. Mortec had obviously not finished his unwitting work for Laster either.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Mortec looked quite pale and a little bewildered, not surprisingly considering he had been dead. It would be several days before he recovered his strength enough to join us once more but after seeing my own situation and wanting to keep busy, he offered to construct me a prosthetic hand.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">It was the first time since I had woken that I realized that my hand had been severed. There was no pain, perhaps I was still in shock. However as I gazed upon the thick bandage that hid my stump I started to panic. How would I survive without my hand? How can one do the simple things in life? More importantly, how would I be perceived, with sympathy? As a helpless cripple?</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">No! At that moment I refused to let my misfortune affect me. It was something I would cope with. After all I was Sir Gerard d’Montfort, not some mere peasant that would be crippled by my injury. </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">With those thoughts racing though my mind I realized that Mortec’s offer was one I could not refuse. “My dear friend that would be wonderful. I will be forever in your debt.” </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The possessions of Irveil yielded little information. There was nothing out of the ordinary except for a small ceremonial hammer that Morgan pointed out was similar to those used by devout Thuusians in the Fastness, and a leather satchel with a stylized clasp of six women stretching out a white cloth between them. This I recognized to be Thuusian symbol of healing.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Why would a Lasterian who had been inducted into the Order of the Wyrm be carrying Thuusian religious items? It was first question on all of our lips.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Moxadder had also managed to fetch the brooch of the Order of the Wyrm from the piled possessions, this I took for safe keeping, as well as the strange orb that Irveil had thrown down to create the liquid mirror. Apparently after the ear splitting boom that had Zhontell had caused when he stuck his head into the mirror, it had transformed once again into the sphere.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">When asked, Moxadder revealed that he had not had a chance to search the body, so we had no idea if there were any significant marks on it. For example, the demonic symbol of Orsa Terminus. My noble upbringing and recent indoctrination into the Order meant and I was best suited to convince the guards to let me examine the corpse to search for any such tattoos. </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Argonne had managed to nullify the pain from my stump, and in actual fact I felt rather sprightly all things considered. I eased myself from my bed and set off for the small chapel that Moxadder informed me housed the body of Irveil.</span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Haraash Saan, post: 5173749, member: 46615"] [FONT=Arial]A drum beat, slowly, repeatedly. I heard a harp join the beat and some pipes add an entrancing melody. My eyes flickered open and I winced in the bright sunlight. I stood on a hill that sloped gently away in front of me. At the base of the hill was a glorious palace, it was from here that I heard the enchanting music.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]I ambled forward through the long wavy grass. It rustled soothingly as my legs brushed against it. A cool breeze blew across my face taking some of the sun’s heat from it. A bird swooped in the near distance. I hear the familiar buzz of bees collecting nectar from the wildflowers. I felt light, and at peace. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Soon the cobbled floor of the palace echoed as my bare feet slapped against the stone. Columns surrounded me going so high that I lost sight of them in the darkness of the ceiling. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]It seemed as though I had walked for an age through the great columns, but I kept moving toward the lovely music.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]As I walked the illumination provided by the torches slowly began to dim. The music, which was at first crisp and clear, was now dull and muted. I began to run. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]The stone carved columns flashed past me as I ran. And soon the torchlight ceased and I was running in darkness, trying to reach the music. Then all was silent. I was left in the noiseless dark. I tried to turn around, thinking to return from whence I had come, but found that my feet no longer felt the cobbles beneath them. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Then I heard Laster’s powerful and beautiful voice, “Gerard d’Montfort. Now is not your time. I still need you.”[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]It was early evening when I woke. “’bout time.” Grumbled Argonne. “Obviously Foeld didn’t think that you needed to be hurried, but I’ve been sitting on my arse waiting for you to wake for hours.”[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Once again I owed my life to my friends. It was Morgan’s quick action that stifled the bleeding from my stump, and Foeld’s blessing given to me by Argonne that sealed the wound. Without them I would have stayed in Pandemonium, but Laster had obviously still not finished with me.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Mortec had not been the only casualty of Zhontell’s ill thought out action, Zwingly, Argonne’s skunk had suffered the same fate. However Argonne was unperturbed. “Foeld will return Zwingly to me, perhaps in a more useful form.” He said somewhat casually.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Argonne also revealed that Morgan had discovered that Prince Brand had already taken swift action, most likely to seize the throne for himself. He had dispatched five of his cronies to gather up his armies and march them to the capital. Not the action of someone that was happy to rule as regent until his sister returned.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]The woodsman explained that Moxadder had been able to identify the ghost that was trapped in his dagger. For indeed it had been sucked into the blade as I had thought, not destroyed. Somehow it resided within the magical steel of the dagger of Geir.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]The ghost was one General Narblec, an important minion of Arcanus, one of the Dominions barrow lords.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]That was most disturbing news. We had just captured one of the Dominions favourite tools. If that was discovered we could only expect swift and painful retribution. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]However, the news did point to one thing, that the Dominion was involved in the assassination of King Thurrland II.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Soon after Argonne had completed telling me the latest developments, the others began to trickle into my room. Moxadder brought with him the possessions of Irveil that he had managed to ‘borrow’ from the corpse but it was Zhontell that brought the most surprising and wonderful thing, Mortec![/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Immediately after falling, the little Gnome had been scooped up by Zhontell, no doubt feeling guilt at causing his death (and nearly mine), and rushed with all speed to the High Priest of Laster, Prelate Gosforth. A donation of an amazing sum of sickles to the church ensured that Mortec’s spirit was brought back from it’s journey to The Outlands, the heaven in which Todesmagie resides. Why a Lasterian priest would spend so much effort (for I have been told that such favors from the gods cause considerable physical distress to the priest) reviving the follower of another faith is beyond me. Well perhaps not. Afterall a large donation is always appreciated by the church. Mortec had obviously not finished his unwitting work for Laster either.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Mortec looked quite pale and a little bewildered, not surprisingly considering he had been dead. It would be several days before he recovered his strength enough to join us once more but after seeing my own situation and wanting to keep busy, he offered to construct me a prosthetic hand.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]It was the first time since I had woken that I realized that my hand had been severed. There was no pain, perhaps I was still in shock. However as I gazed upon the thick bandage that hid my stump I started to panic. How would I survive without my hand? How can one do the simple things in life? More importantly, how would I be perceived, with sympathy? As a helpless cripple?[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]No! At that moment I refused to let my misfortune affect me. It was something I would cope with. After all I was Sir Gerard d’Montfort, not some mere peasant that would be crippled by my injury. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]With those thoughts racing though my mind I realized that Mortec’s offer was one I could not refuse. “My dear friend that would be wonderful. I will be forever in your debt.” [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]The possessions of Irveil yielded little information. There was nothing out of the ordinary except for a small ceremonial hammer that Morgan pointed out was similar to those used by devout Thuusians in the Fastness, and a leather satchel with a stylized clasp of six women stretching out a white cloth between them. This I recognized to be Thuusian symbol of healing.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Why would a Lasterian who had been inducted into the Order of the Wyrm be carrying Thuusian religious items? It was first question on all of our lips.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Moxadder had also managed to fetch the brooch of the Order of the Wyrm from the piled possessions, this I took for safe keeping, as well as the strange orb that Irveil had thrown down to create the liquid mirror. Apparently after the ear splitting boom that had Zhontell had caused when he stuck his head into the mirror, it had transformed once again into the sphere.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]When asked, Moxadder revealed that he had not had a chance to search the body, so we had no idea if there were any significant marks on it. For example, the demonic symbol of Orsa Terminus. My noble upbringing and recent indoctrination into the Order meant and I was best suited to convince the guards to let me examine the corpse to search for any such tattoos. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial]Argonne had managed to nullify the pain from my stump, and in actual fact I felt rather sprightly all things considered. I eased myself from my bed and set off for the small chapel that Moxadder informed me housed the body of Irveil.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] [/FONT] [/QUOTE]
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Sir Gerard d'Montfort - In his own words (a tale of Anka Seth)- Updated Nov 11th
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