Thoughts and feelings
The magess from R’Hath, the swordsman from Barforth, the Redstar Knight of Celradorn, the elf tracker, the dwarf thief, the halfling cleric of Faerantha and the half-elf druid carefully piled the bodies of the elf defenders of Silver Falls into a pire in the center of the glade.
A flick of arcane fire from Alaria set the elvin bodies ablaze.
They silently gathered what supplies they could carry from their ship and climbed the stairs around the massive bronzewood tree to the bridge that led to the top of the falls.
Each of them lost in thought over the discovery and events of the previous afternoon. It was was agreed that for all of their sakes, they not camp at the decimated elvin outpost. They got a solid league away, sticking close to the D’Evand, following Erevan and Fen’s superior night vision in the cloudy darkness of night before stopping and making camp.
There was a goblinoid army on the loose. From what they’d learned from their captives, it was heading to “the big wood.” Erevan, Alaria and Fen (who actually hailed from the nearby region of the Laklans) agreed that could only mean they marched for the kingdom of the Miralostae elves itself.
Erevan scoffed at the thought. No matter who or what this “Bulgruch” was, there was little doubt in his mind that he would be able to march, unopposed, into his homeland.
What concerned Alaria (and the rest of the group once she explained) was the statement by the goblin archer that “Sharzaak would rise.”
Sharzaak was the dreaded dragon of legend whose remains were the very island of Dragonbone Isle itself. If that were true and a purpose of this army, then Tresahd must, in some way be related to it.
Alaria couldn’t really get a clear picture as to how, but was firmly convinced that the possession of the black pearl from the Tyrisian temple and the clear orb she now carried were somehow related to the “rising” of Sharzaak.
Worse yet, Fen pointed out, if the army headed west and north, they would sooner or later come to the hamlet of Welford. If the remnants of Silver Falls were any indication, the quiet orchard farming hamlet stood little to no chance.
Most of the party passed the night in fitful sleep.
Alaria awoke several times, haunted by nightmares of the elvin mage she’d watched die that evening. She pulled the small leatherbound book from the satchel that contained her spellbooks and paged through it. It was obviously the mage’s spellbook. As best she could tell by a cursory examination, it contained two spells she could use and three others that were currently beyond her capacity, like one of the scrolls Vertior had given her. The young wizard stared for a moment at the crystal orb in her pouch, wondering what role it played in the, almost unthinkable, resurrection of the dread dragon, Sharzaak.
Coerraine passed the rest of the night and following day in silent contemplation. Was it wrong he had not intervened in Erevan’s “dishonorable” slaughter of their captives? Would they have showed the party any similar concern had their roles been reversed? Could he forgive Alaria her allowances for evil to “pass them by”? Could he maintain his god-given duty with this group of beings? He prayed heavily on these issues.
Haelan lamented the goblins’ end. But given the devastation their company (and possibly they themselves) had wrought, he saw no conclusion but that their deaths were just. Still, the deaths did not sit well with the daelvar Hilltender. Tears flowed from his eyes as he wondered why the races of Orea couldn’t “just get along?” Why did there have to be evil in the world? Fen seemed to think there should be…no, had to be to maintain his esoteric “balance.” Haelan scowled at the thought. He liked the druid very much, but something was just wrong to everything Haelan had been taught to believe. Most perplexing for the halfling, why would anyone want to be evil?
Braddok and Duor slept soundly, if lightly.
Braddok kept two watch shifts instead of one. He was certain they were in danger. His strategic training led him to the most disturbing conclusion. If this was, indeed, an army of goblins…marching west…they were now behind the enemy’s lines.
Erevan, as usual, kept a vigil all night, silently watching and listening in the darkness.
During his watch alone, there was a momentary break in the cloud cover that revealed the partial silver greater moon, Arinane. The elf looked around at his, then sleeping, companions and back to the moon. The silver light glistened against the tears that welled up in his violet eyes and streamed down his cheeks.
The slightest of rustling in the night air caught Erevan’s ear and the elf turned with a nocked arrow to see Fen looking with sadness (or was it pity?) upon him.
The elf lowered his bow to his half-blooded kiiri. Before Erevan knew what was happening, the two embraced and held each other tight, silhouetted in the silver light.
The clouds, again, closed and the two elf-blooded companions continued to hold each other in the near-complete darkness.
The magess from R’Hath, the swordsman from Barforth, the Redstar Knight of Celradorn, the elf tracker, the dwarf thief, the halfling cleric of Faerantha and the half-elf druid carefully piled the bodies of the elf defenders of Silver Falls into a pire in the center of the glade.
A flick of arcane fire from Alaria set the elvin bodies ablaze.
They silently gathered what supplies they could carry from their ship and climbed the stairs around the massive bronzewood tree to the bridge that led to the top of the falls.
Each of them lost in thought over the discovery and events of the previous afternoon. It was was agreed that for all of their sakes, they not camp at the decimated elvin outpost. They got a solid league away, sticking close to the D’Evand, following Erevan and Fen’s superior night vision in the cloudy darkness of night before stopping and making camp.
There was a goblinoid army on the loose. From what they’d learned from their captives, it was heading to “the big wood.” Erevan, Alaria and Fen (who actually hailed from the nearby region of the Laklans) agreed that could only mean they marched for the kingdom of the Miralostae elves itself.
Erevan scoffed at the thought. No matter who or what this “Bulgruch” was, there was little doubt in his mind that he would be able to march, unopposed, into his homeland.
What concerned Alaria (and the rest of the group once she explained) was the statement by the goblin archer that “Sharzaak would rise.”
Sharzaak was the dreaded dragon of legend whose remains were the very island of Dragonbone Isle itself. If that were true and a purpose of this army, then Tresahd must, in some way be related to it.
Alaria couldn’t really get a clear picture as to how, but was firmly convinced that the possession of the black pearl from the Tyrisian temple and the clear orb she now carried were somehow related to the “rising” of Sharzaak.
Worse yet, Fen pointed out, if the army headed west and north, they would sooner or later come to the hamlet of Welford. If the remnants of Silver Falls were any indication, the quiet orchard farming hamlet stood little to no chance.
Most of the party passed the night in fitful sleep.
Alaria awoke several times, haunted by nightmares of the elvin mage she’d watched die that evening. She pulled the small leatherbound book from the satchel that contained her spellbooks and paged through it. It was obviously the mage’s spellbook. As best she could tell by a cursory examination, it contained two spells she could use and three others that were currently beyond her capacity, like one of the scrolls Vertior had given her. The young wizard stared for a moment at the crystal orb in her pouch, wondering what role it played in the, almost unthinkable, resurrection of the dread dragon, Sharzaak.
Coerraine passed the rest of the night and following day in silent contemplation. Was it wrong he had not intervened in Erevan’s “dishonorable” slaughter of their captives? Would they have showed the party any similar concern had their roles been reversed? Could he forgive Alaria her allowances for evil to “pass them by”? Could he maintain his god-given duty with this group of beings? He prayed heavily on these issues.
Haelan lamented the goblins’ end. But given the devastation their company (and possibly they themselves) had wrought, he saw no conclusion but that their deaths were just. Still, the deaths did not sit well with the daelvar Hilltender. Tears flowed from his eyes as he wondered why the races of Orea couldn’t “just get along?” Why did there have to be evil in the world? Fen seemed to think there should be…no, had to be to maintain his esoteric “balance.” Haelan scowled at the thought. He liked the druid very much, but something was just wrong to everything Haelan had been taught to believe. Most perplexing for the halfling, why would anyone want to be evil?
Braddok and Duor slept soundly, if lightly.
Braddok kept two watch shifts instead of one. He was certain they were in danger. His strategic training led him to the most disturbing conclusion. If this was, indeed, an army of goblins…marching west…they were now behind the enemy’s lines.
Erevan, as usual, kept a vigil all night, silently watching and listening in the darkness.
During his watch alone, there was a momentary break in the cloud cover that revealed the partial silver greater moon, Arinane. The elf looked around at his, then sleeping, companions and back to the moon. The silver light glistened against the tears that welled up in his violet eyes and streamed down his cheeks.
The slightest of rustling in the night air caught Erevan’s ear and the elf turned with a nocked arrow to see Fen looking with sadness (or was it pity?) upon him.
The elf lowered his bow to his half-blooded kiiri. Before Erevan knew what was happening, the two embraced and held each other tight, silhouetted in the silver light.
The clouds, again, closed and the two elf-blooded companions continued to hold each other in the near-complete darkness.