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Story Hour
Session Stories - Moments in Roleplaying (updated 6/15/2023)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 8434533" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p style="text-align: center"><strong>Story – XVII- Daggers of the Mind</strong></p><p></p><p></p><p>The barkeeper was nothing if consistent, as he slid a mug down the counter, which Rafelor caught with a practiced hand, not even looking up. Perched once again on his stool of choice at the edge of the bar, he quickly sipped the strong dark liquor in hand. But he just as quickly put it down and resumed his study of a thick tome in his hand, full of drawings and dense text. His eyes squinted at the text when something finally did grab his awareness; the scent of someone who needs a bath approaching. The odor grew stronger, when he heard a deep jolly voice boom, “Hello friend. You look like the world has given you too much to think about. Perhaps I can buy you a beer, and we can talk about light hearted journeys in a jungle?”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor was ready this time, as he felt the air stir behind him. With a quick whisper of a simple word, a shimmering barrier blocked the ogre’s hand from connecting to Rafelor’s back, and perhaps avoiding a cracked rib.</p><p></p><p>Little One blinked in surprised and then laughed aloud, amused by Rafelor’s quick thinking. “Hey! That’s a neat trick. I'm sorry if I hurt you by accident. Friends?” And the ogre earnestly extended a hand to the half-elf, his nose still firmly planted in the tome.</p><p></p><p>Without looking up, Rafelor let out a reluctant sigh. “Ah, what the hell? Friends.” And switching the book to his left hand, offers his right to the ogre, not thinking of the consequence. Little One grabbed his hand and squeezed, shaking his arm vigorously, to the sounds of bones popping in the ogre’s meaty paw. Rafelor almost dropped the book in surprise as his crushed hand ached in agony, and his arm felt like it would be wrenched from its socket.</p><p></p><p>As Rafelor looked to gather his wits and say something intelligent to stop the assault on his hand, he heard the skipping of hooves on stone. Glancing to his side, he saw the tiefling Irony with a number of books in her arms which she deposited on the bar next to the stricken half-elf.</p><p></p><p>“I found Ser Almases 'Mind and health', Keligos' 'The Temple of the Body,' and Burtons 'Imaginary Maladies of the Mind.' I hope they help.” She said as she leaned against the bar in exhaustion. She took in a deep breath and looked at Rafelor and noticed the rictus like smile on his face, as his hand was being getting crushed. “Little One! You need to watch your grip! Last time you did that, the healers had to regenerate the poor monk a new hand!”</p><p></p><p>The Ogre blinked and turned red in the face and said, “Oh! Sorry! Of course. I should get my mittens first...I'll be back.” And the ogre then trundled off to the stairs to head towards his room.</p><p></p><p>Irony turned to look at Rafelor with a sympathetic smile. “He's really a nice guy. just a bit...too...well...strong?” she said as she tried to massage the pain from Rafelor’s hand. “Anything else I can do for you?”</p><p></p><p>"Mmmmm…thanks..grip…too strong," Rafelor said as the pins and needles retreated from his fingers. “I think that's good. Not quite a doctor yet, but there's some good stuff in here.”</p><p></p><p>“Well...that might take a bit more than a book,” Irony said, still working her fingers around Rafelor’s. “According to 'Grayson's Anatomy' you need to work on the dead for a year or so to understand how a living person really works. Personally...I'd just find a cleric.”</p><p></p><p>“A cleric huh?" and Rafelor thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Well, I do know where to find a cleric but...”</p><p></p><p>“But?”</p><p></p><p>“She's a good cleric. And a good person. But I don't think Arnara would want her to see herself in the state she's in.”</p><p></p><p>Irony looked at Rafelor frowning, pulling her fingers across Rafelor’s. “It must be hard seeing...what a broken mirror of your friend? Well, I <strong><em>assume</em></strong> she is also your friend. But I guess you are really friends with...the Arnara that isn't here, right? Oh, this is complicated.”</p><p></p><p>"I guess that's about right,” Rafelor said, putting down the book and closing it with his good hand. “It's weird. Like a yes and no at the same time. It keeps my head spinning, that's for sure. I can't even imagine how it feels for her.”</p><p></p><p>Irony pulls on Rafelor’s fingers, popping the joint and reseating them into place, “She clearly wants to feel differently. And it upsets her, because it upsets you. Anyway...is there anything else I can get for you? I need to deliver a map to her in a bit.”</p><p></p><p>“No, I'm good. Thanks” and Rafelor pulled his hand away and flexed it before grabbing his glass and quickly gulping the contents.</p><p></p><p>“Alright then,” Irony said with a smile before turning to the barkeep. “Hey! Need a quarter chicken and a Metheglin!”</p><p></p><p>"Which quarter?" the Barkeep said as he slid over another drink to Rafelor’s aching hand.</p><p></p><p>“What? I have no idea...um...the tasty quarter?” Irony responded hoping the answer was clear enough.</p><p></p><p>“Ah...leg meat. Be a moment.” And the barkeep wandered back to the kitchen to fetch the requested meal.</p><p></p><p>Rafelor sat there in silence for a few moments when he remembered something. “Actually, wait a second, Irony?”</p><p></p><p>The tiefling turned with a smile on her lips and answered, “Sure. what's up?”</p><p></p><p>“I just remembered a question I had,” and he turned on his stool to face her. “You ever heard of objects moving on their own in Candlekeep?”</p><p></p><p>“In the keep?” Irony said confused. “Well not unless Miirym is bored...but she usually is pretty visible when she wants to move things. Ghostly dragons stand out.”</p><p></p><p>“So, nothing like bells moving towards people trying to ring them?” Rafelor pressed.</p><p></p><p>Irony looks side to side as if concerned would overhear them. Leaning closers she asked, “What...like in the room with Arnara’s um…twin?”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor nodded. “She's cut off from The Weave. Couldn't have done something like summon a bell on her own.”</p><p></p><p>Irony shook her head, but her brow was knitted in thought before speaking again. “Wait...cut off? Then how...” She trailed off a moment and looked at Rafelor whispering, “She's been talking to me...in my head. I thought it was a spell. I mean she just told me as I walked into the bar to get a map of old Ilefarn...but you say she <strong><em>can't</em></strong> do that?”</p><p></p><p>“She's...talking to you? She's never talked to me like that. And it should be impossible. The hags made her out to be completely helpless.”</p><p></p><p>“Well...I'm not sure she even <em>knows</em>. It’s like I hear in my head, 'I need to tell Irony to get a something,’ like she’s talking to herself, but I can hear it in my head. Does that make sense?”</p><p></p><p>“Yeah.” Rafelor paused for a moment, before speaking again, “Well, no, actually. There's just no way, even if she doesn't know it, she could manipulate The Weave like that. Why didn't we ever hear it back in Chult?”</p><p></p><p>Irony thought a moment, “I remember asking a stupid question when we first were introduced...I asked here where she had been recently, and she said, 'A Cage' and I laughed." Irony grimaced and looked at the half-elf with a look of guilt. “Turns out that wasn't funny. Would that have something to do with it?”</p><p></p><p>“We found her in a cage, put there by a coven of hags, but I don't see what that has to do with anything.”</p><p></p><p>“A cage built by hags?” Irony said sounding repulsed.</p><p></p><p>“I'm guessing here. She's had a lot of time to herself...maybe she's discovered something?” Rafelor mused.</p><p></p><p>Irony nodded and was about to speak, when she glanced over Rafelor's shoulder. Suddenly, her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide in awe. Before the half-elf could turn to see what had grabbed her attention, he felt a pair of soft hands reach around from behind and covered his eyes. The smell of flowers and pine filled his nostrils, and he felt the warm breath of someone unfamiliar whispering into his ear in a lightly accented feminine voice, “Don't turn around yet...I want to smell your air <em>Ha'Tel'Quessir.</em> I want to understand who you are.”</p><p></p><p>He felt someone is nuzzled and buried their nose into his hair, taken deep whiffs of his scent. Rafelor tensed, wondering if perhaps the aroma was a sort of siren. As he readied his body and mind for what could have been a sign of danger, he finally spoke, “What is this? Who's there?”</p><p></p><p>The soft voice continued whispering into the half-elfs’ ear, “You are as described. A <em>Ha'Tel'Quessir</em> who smells like they work hard, sweat, leather and metal. But the smell of bath salts tells me of someone that they care about...someone else’s appearance.” Rafelor could feel the air move around their lips. “You like hard liquor and prefer their meat well-seasoned. A <em>Ha'Tel'Quessir</em> that knows what they want...usually.”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor sat there on edge, with his eyes still covered by the soft warm hands. As he sat there, he then felt a warm body, slide around his own and then planted themselves on his lap. “A strong...almost human face, with an ...interesting choice of hair styling. And either well shaven, or unable to grow any hair to mar that face.”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor said defensively, “I can grow hair.... wait what am I saying? What's going on?”</p><p></p><p>The hand slid away from his eyes, and he blinked at what he saw. Perched on his lap was a leather clad feminine figure. Her skin was a tawny color, and she wore leather armor of the highest quality, with patterns of colored leaves stamped into it. Long tresses of auburn hair, cascaded onto her shoulders, with red and brown leaves seemly woven into her tresses. From beneath them a pair of slender pointed ears poked out, betraying her fey heritage. But what had Rafelor riveted was her eyes; they were a solid orange, the color of the setting sun without pupil or white.</p><p></p><p>She smiled, and slid her arms around Rafelor, and she clung to him as she continued to speak, “A handsome face for a <em>Na'Tel'Quessir</em>...very cute. This one would make a good page boy or cup bearer in the Feywild for a decade or two...someone to watch fetch things and do things. A fine form indeed,” and she ran her hand through Rafelor’s hair smiling with a dreamy, contented look on her face.</p><p></p><p>Next to him, he heard Irony whisper in awe, “An Eladrin!”</p><p></p><p>“Uh…Hmph, you came all this way just to compliment me?” Rafelor said trying to get control of the awkward situation.</p><p></p><p>The Eladrin laughs "Of course Rafelor...I couldn't wait to meet another hero of Chult." she said smiling, and in the same contented tone.</p><p></p><p>Rafelor smirked, “Well, here I am. In the flesh.” And quickly as it appeared, his smile faded and his expression changed to one of confusion. “Wait. 'Another'? What do you mean another?”</p><p></p><p>“Zinetra! Stop teasing my pupil. He's going to pass out in fit of heavy breathing, if you keep playing with his hair that way! Nor can you just take him into the Feywild to make him a plaything of yours.” A much more familiar voice says behind him.</p><p></p><p>Rafelor awkwardly attempted to turn to look behind him, “Hold on, what the hell is that supposed to mean!?” After a struggle to turn with the uncooperative Eladrin, Rafelor managed to twist around and saw a familiar silver haired Moon elf, wearing a fine tunic that was marred with soot, tears and holes. At her hip a delicate rapier hung while her arms were crossed in mock indignation. The elf looked tired, but she looked at the half-elf with a wide smile, which Rafelor realized he had rarely seen.</p><p></p><p>Rafelor lowered his head and began to slow-clap as he stood up, causing the Eladrin to tumble to her feet. “Record time, Arnara. Record time.” He said, all the while looking down, trying to hide the immense smile of relief on his face.</p><p></p><p>Arnara ran over and leapt at Rafelor, forcing him to catch her as she embraced him warmly. “I missed you too.”</p><p></p><p>The eladrin stood there with a bemused look on her face. “And you were right, his face has the warmest pink when he blushes. And.....ooo! His ears also turn pink. How adorable!” she said as she giggled.</p><p></p><p>Turning his heard Rafelor regarded the Eladrin, “Don't push it, Mother Nature.”</p><p></p><p>“Now now,” the Eldarin chided. “There is no need to be rude. The sourness in your voice do you little favors.”</p><p></p><p>“I guess I should introduce you,” Arnara said gesturing to her companion. “This is Zinetra Renecta, heir to the Coure of Mischief and Strife and Hierophant in the Circle of Wildfire." Arnara said respectfully.</p><p></p><p>“You forgot, 'the Appellant of Autumn, of the Seelie court' dear." Zinetra said wagging her finger at Arnara.</p><p></p><p>“And....that!” *Arnara gestured back at the Eladrin. “I hope I've haven't been too much trouble for you Raf," she continued. “We only just left after a major fight in Thay.”</p><p></p><p>“It's been...interesting. But everything is under control here at Candlekeep.” Rafelor said breathing a little easier.</p><p></p><p>“Told you everything would be fine Arnara," Zinetra said.</p><p></p><p>“That's good. That last fight had us all on edge...I don't think I will forget that howl from the Demi-Lich. How did Hawthorne phrase it…almost put two of us in the 'dead-book'. Out of all the things we faced in Thay, that was perhaps the most painful. I’m so glad to have left that place."</p><p></p><p>Irony stood there quietly as the two elves talked, her mouth agape the entire time. But at the word of pain, she closed it and her eyes widened in alarm. “Raf...what does that mean for—"</p><p></p><p>Rafelor met Irony’s gaze and then started to run with Irony beside him, “—Oh crap. We gotta go. We gotta go <strong><em>now</em></strong>.”</p><p></p><p>Zinetra looked confused, “What? We just got here—” Arnara turned and followed the pair as they ran, with the Eladrin in tow. As they ran, Arnara shouted to Rafelor ahead of her, “Rafelor...what is going on?”</p><p></p><p>“It's your double. If you were almost killed there then that means she’s…Irony, quick get us inside. We gotta move.”</p><p></p><p>Irony nodded and dashed ahead to the Green Door shouting, “They’re authorized, it’s an emergency!” causing the guards to dart to the side, clearing the entry.</p><p></p><p>Arnara struggled to keep up the half-elf and the tiefling, still trying to get answers. “Means? Means what?”</p><p></p><p>“You were right. That connection between your minds is strong. Way too strong. Everything that happened in Thay, she experienced here. That includes all the pain.” Rafelor barked as he ran.</p><p></p><p>“Our connection must have gotten stronger; it wasn’t that bad she said when I left,” Arnara yelled, her face stricken with horror and grief. “It shouldn’t have happened like that.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, you were right about the ritual; it grows in strength over time. And that means this is going to be much harder than we thought to break it.” The Eladrin said catching up to them in a whirlwind of leaves, her long legs keeping pace easily.</p><p></p><p>Irony didn’t choose a path around the towers in her rush. She ran through them, startling Avowed carrying books between the stacks. Her hooves pounded on stone, given a staccato like beat to run against as they avoided tables, carts, and people alike. Through buildings, over ledges and through some hedges as well, she guided them with a total disregard to the chaos she left behind her, until finally they ascended the tower stairs that led to the cloistered cell where the other Arnara studied. Rafelor easily kept pace with the Tiefling, but Arnara and Zinetra found themselves falling behind, apologizing to confused Avowed left behind in Irony’s wake. As she ran up the stairs, Irony pulled the key from her belt pouch and then slid on her hooves and started to fumble with the lock to the door, but it wasn’t long until everyone heard the sound of the bolt retracting.</p><p></p><p>“Move out…wait this isn’t a pull door, right?” Rafelor asked, as he raised his leg.</p><p></p><p>“No!” Irony said exasperated.</p><p></p><p>Rafelor could hear the elves running up the tower behind him, as he kicked the door open and ran inside.</p><p></p><p>The Other Arnara stood there, struggling to stand using her arms to steady herself, and using the desk for leverage. At the sound of the door smashing open, she raised her arms defensively as if to cover herself from an attack. But as she did so, in her hand appeared a shimmering white light, the size of a throwing blade appeared. Rafelor stopped to look at the light, shimmering like a mirage in the desert. There was no time to think, to register surprise or confusion though, as the white light left her hand and in a blink of an eye, struck the half-elf in the chest.</p><p></p><p>The pain was like touching a hot stove or a poker from a hearth and Rafelor yelled as he clenched his chest, “AAAGH! What the..." he said, panting from both the run and the pain. He staggered in surprise, trying to keep his balance, as behind him, Irony shrieked, and dove to the floor, trying to cover her head. All the while the Other Arnara stared at her hand and then at Rafelor in shock.</p><p></p><p>“Raf!” Arnara said, as she and Zinetra clambered into the room. Zinetra rushed forward to Rafelor, who was sinking to his knees, struggling to breath, and began whispering something in a strange melodious language. She then laid a hand on his shoulder, and Rafelor felt the pain subside as the magic healed his body.</p><p></p><p>The Other Arnara stood there trembling unable to speak for a moment. But suddenly she clutched her head and started to breathe heavily. “What did I...No no no...Arnara...you're here...it it hurts...we can't...you have to." She shut her eyes tightly, and her hands covered her hears as if in pain. She stumbled, sank down onto the bed, and rocked back and forth, moaning.</p><p></p><p>“Oh no...no no..I'm I’m sorry," Arnara said her face looking aghast. Looking torn she passed by Irony who was now standing up again. And looking torn, and helpless she whispered, “I'll stay outside and be quiet.”</p><p></p><p>But this barely registered with Rafelor, as while the pain in his chest subsided, a new one grew in his head. It was similar to the spirit that once possessed him in Chult, but it was a familiar voice, echoing pain in his head as he heard, “The echoes...no no ...hurts hurts...what did I..how did I...” His hands leapt to the sides of his head, covering his ears.</p><p></p><p>Irony looked at Rafelor and said, “I'm hearing her...can you...hear her?” and pointed at the Other Arnara who still rocked herself back and forth on the bed. She was starting to breath slower as she regained control of herself.</p><p></p><p>Rafelor then pulled his hands away from his head, as the noise withing softened. “I can,” he said looking the mishappen elf in confusion.</p><p></p><p>Zinetra left Rafelor’s side and sat down next to the rocking woman and whispered to her quietly in elvish, stroking her hair. Eventually, the Other Arnara slumps into the Eladrin’s arms, exhausted, but breathing easier. Zinetra continued to talk soothingly aloud, comforting the elf. “Such a rare gift. Arnara might have shown it, if she wasn't so focused on her Bladesong. I guess that nature has opened a different path for you.”</p><p></p><p>“What is it? How can she do that?” Rafelor said, standing again and looking at the Eladrin in confusion.</p><p></p><p>“I believe she is a <em>Nar'Kerym,</em>” Zinetra said rocking Other Arnara in her arms. “The best translation in your common vernacular is a 'Soulknife'; One who can create blades with nothing more than a thought. It is a very rare art, as it takes very focused mind to manifest such a blade. It is not magic however, and it is about far from the Weave as one can go in fact.”</p><p></p><p>“Soulknives? Like the Dreaming Dark had?” Rafelor said, remembering Shalai fighting in the tomb with others with gleaming light like blades. He didn’t get too close to Shalai’s opponents, as Garzuxl took all of his attention at the time.</p><p></p><p>Zinetra turned her head to look at Raf in confusion. “Dreaming...Dark? I am not familiar with this—"</p><p></p><p>“—I...We know what he is talking about,” the Other Arnara said quietly looking at Rafelor. “I remember seeing them...but not the details when I…she was fighting Acererak. It must be the same ability.” She then looked at her hand and her brow quivered a moment. Suddenly, the shimmering white shape reappeared in it. It didn’t look solid, and wavered and shimmered as it hung there in the air. Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished leaving the mishappen elf dumbfounded.</p><p></p><p>“I don't understand. She's supposed to be cut off from the weave.” Rafelor then thought a moment before speaking again. “Unless that has something to do with it?”</p><p></p><p>Zinetra looked at Rafelor as if he were a child. “No...as I said this is not of the weave. It is the highest focus of mind. If she is indeed cutoff from the Weave, it would explain why it manifested. Arnara has known nothing but the weave in her studies. Her mind, as sharp and powerful as it is, is probably blind to this skill, in <strong><em>favor</em></strong> of the Weave. But she,” And the Eladrin nodded her head, “Has never known the Weave's blessing. Her mind calls out for something...anything to replace it. You see...An elf may not practice magic, but they are a part of the Weave; we all are. I personally can’t think of anything more horrifying than being removed from the Weave's presence. But in her struggle to reach that which she cannot she found…something else.” And she continued to stroke the hair of the exhausted Other Arnara.</p><p></p><p>“But this connection between them, must be undone. It is wrong and unnatural for her to be in this state. I have read and I do not like the ritual we must do to. But it appears to be the only way to make both whole. But I was asked to help, and I will. And you,” the druid pointed at Rafelor, “You will be needed for this, you will be the bridge and the blade for their souls to be shriven from each other. You are the key.”</p><p></p><p>“Wh-What? What does that mean?” Rafelor spurted out before sighing in resignation. “Look at me, today I'm playing the role of the idiot who stands around confused, asking all the questions.”</p><p></p><p>Zinetra smiled and looked at the half-elf with compassion, “This is why I needed to smell and touch you; to see if you could be that bridge. The path forward is someone who knows both sides of the same soul; you. No one else has spent as much time with both of them. You are a rock that their souls can cling to as we draw the two together with <em>Arselu’Tel’Quess</em>. And then this ritual, will split them apart fully. They will use you as an anchor to find themselves and their bodies as two separate souls. I am sure you do not understand. But understanding is not needed here. Just you accepting this is true. And the risk,” Zinetra said solemly.</p><p></p><p>“Oh boy...that's a destiny and a half right there. And the risks?” Rafelor said, shaking his head at the inevitable warning.</p><p></p><p>“Elven souls can...split on their own in the womb of a mother. But then, they have nothing more than the mother as a bridge, and no memory beyond their past lives. The risk to the pair and their mother is small and the soul would heal easily. They probably never even notice the moment it occurs. But here, we have a soul only partially split, and with each side holding a strong attachment to a hundred years of memories. The split will be more difficult for them. But with you as a bridge; knowing them both, knowing how they differ is important. While you are neither family...nor a woman, it is to your advantage. An imperfect choice, and yet the best one. As the soul is split, they will cling to yours; desperately seeking to find themselves...and you risk them rending yours into nothing. If that happens; we will lose all three of you. But this is why you are ideal. Your sense of self is strong, and you can endure. You would not be compromised as a mother would be, one that would sacrifice themselves for the pair. That would just lead to the souls tearing into each other. There is a good chance that this ritual will work.” Zinetra chuckled, “In fact this might be as close to giving birth a male may ever have.”</p><p></p><p>“I’m sorry, <strong><em>what?</em></strong>” Rafelor said as he looked at the druid in shock.</p><p></p><p>"A mother risks her life to give birth to a child. All mothers do; beasts, elves, and humans alike. And pain is part of the experience. That pain, that act of...creation is why many mothers surrender their own to allow their children to be born. But a male...a male’s role is to protect not some, but all. They do not casually sacrifice themselves; they fight to the bitter end only making a sacrifice when all other options have been exhausted. They may say they would trade places for a person loved, but that is only in the quiet moment in between conflict. But that indomitable will is why you, and they, will all come through this. But it will hurt. A lot."</p><p></p><p>“Oh...okay....okay then...so if this gets messed up, it's curtains to me. Geez." Rafelor walked over to the shuttered window and opened it, to stare outside, lost in his own thoughts.</p><p></p><p>“To all of you,” Zinetra corrected. “All succeed or none do.” The Eladrin released the Other Arnara, and stood. She then walked over to Rafelor and placed her hand on his shoulder. “This is a difficult thing. And you must go with your eyes and mind open. Doubt will only make this...more difficult. But I do not know of another that could do this.”</p><p></p><p>“It's not fair,” Rafelor said still gazing at the sight of the Sea of Swords outside. “You live through the tomb, you survive your trials, and you come out someone with a full life ahead of them. And then, the people you care about need you. So, you spend all your time trying to do everything in your power to make things right for them. And at the end of it all, you find out the only way you can see it through to the end, is by risking the very life you fought so hard to live for.</p><p></p><p>“Ever since I met Arnara, it's always been one big step after another. Going to Chult, learning Bladesong, coming to terms with yourself, accepting what your precious journal actually means to you, risking your life for a world that never gave you a good hand, trying to live up to Kylan's impossible standard, worrying silly and devoting everything to caring for someone you're not even sure you're qualified to care for, and then putting your life and all your faith into something that may not work.</p><p></p><p>“And yet, Arnara always said the same thing: ‘It's your decision, but once you say yes, there's no going back.’ And I'd always respond the same: ‘What choice do I have? I've come this far; there's no point in going back.’ The stakes are higher...but the principle remains the same.” He sighed again before looking into the sunset eyes of Zinetra, “I'll do it. And if I die, at least I'll know for a fact that my life had a purpose.”</p><p></p><p>Zinetra’s solemnity had replaced the carefree being that sat in his lap earlier that day, “You must be clear on this; if this fails, there is no afterlife for your soul. It will be sundered into nothingness as much as theirs will. I will not be able to wave my hand to restore you...or them. They understand the risk, but the pain they suffer makes it an easy choice. It is different for you. But I have...faith in you. A better anchor could not be found, as I see the strength within.” Zinetra grabbed Rafelor's hands. “It will be my privilege to try, and guide you all back from the edge.”</p><p></p><p>“Hmph. And what would my life be if I said no?” Rafelor said with a tone of bitterness.</p><p></p><p>Zinetra looked at Rafelor and said the obvious, “One plagued with guilt I suppose, on what could have been.”</p><p></p><p>“So, when do we start?”</p><p></p><p>“First, we need a place that is...thin between the planes. A place that will act as a conduit for the souls,” Zinetra said.</p><p></p><p>“I found such a place...” The Other Arnara stammered. “The Fane of <strong>Naralis Analoris...</strong>it is in Ilefarn and I need a map to confirm its location. The last piece is word from my father. I will...er Arnara has made a sending and is awaiting a response.” The Other Arnara then cocked her head as if listening to something and then her shoulders slump down in resignation before raising her voice. “Go ahead Arnara. I think I can hold myself together.” She then covered her ears and closed her eyes tightly and waited.</p><p></p><p>From outside the room, Arnara quickly entered the room and looked at her mishappened self. She stared a moment, clearly wanting to say something. She remained silent however, and instead hesitantly sat down beside her and embraced her. It was quiet for a moment, but the embraced elf breathing quickened. Finally, she started to shake her head and she squirmed to escape the Moon elf’s embrace. Arnara then quickly released her, and with tears in her eyes quickly left the room.</p><p></p><p>Exhaling sharply the other Arnara the said quietly, “I think I need some rest.” She moved some pillows around to lean against the wall while to allow her to remain upright in the bed.</p><p></p><p>“Alright then. Until then,” Rafelor walked out of the room not waiting for the Eladrin or the Tiefling. Crossing the threshold, he glanced over and saw Arnara, sitting on the floor, her head on her knees. He could hear the tears and the muffled sniffles as she sat there, with her head bowed.</p><p></p><p>“Did you get all that?” Rafelor said, unsure if Arnara had heard anything that he or Zinetra had said earlier. But Arnara said nothing to the inquiry. Rafelor frowned in disapproval and shook his head. “Alright. Fair enough. Come on, Irony. Can't get out of here on my own.” He called to the Tiefling inside.</p><p></p><p>“Wait...” he heard, and he turned to look at Arnara, still seated on the floor. She then leaned back, and Rafelor could see the tear-stained cheeks, but what was unexpected was the smile of pure happiness on her face. As she sat there in joyful tears, she twisted around a bit of copper wire in her hand her eyes focused elsewhere.</p><p></p><p>Rafelor realized then what she was doing; as there was a spell that could deliver small messages with a bit of copper wire. But he realized that this one was a stronger one, pulling power from the weave, beyond a mere cantrip. He stood there and held up his hand to signal Irony to wait inside, and he knelt down to Arnara’s level.</p><p></p><p>She then turned her head to looks Rafelor and whispered, choking on her tears, “He’s done it. The Royal Council needed some convincing, but Zinetra's patron...put in a good word for my father. They will let a <em>Selu'taar</em> cast the spell. My father mentioned a price...but he wasn't clear on what. I can tell my father where to bring the <em>Selu’taar</em>, and we can go tomorrow.”</p><p></p><p>“Right on.” Rafelor said, placing a hand on Arnara and gave her a wolfish grin.</p><p></p><p>Arnara continued shaking her head, “The elves are no longer teaching <em>Arselu'Tel'Quess.</em> This may be the last time that it is ever cast. Once upon a time I would be excited to see such magic to study it; something unique to us. But...I just want it to work. I want it to be over. I didn't know how much I was going to need you, when I asked for your help. I'm sorry for asking. For putting you at risk.”</p><p></p><p>“I'd rather do something than do nothing. I know you care and all, and that's cool. But I can't have you go marching to your death if I have anything to say about it.”</p><p></p><p>“You always were one to act first, and then realize the consequences much much later,” Arnara said with an impish grin. “Probably why Zinetra finds you so cute.”</p><p></p><p>“I could follow that cute butt up any set of stairs,” Zinetra called in from the other room.</p><p></p><p>The pair chuckled together. “Heh. Can't make me realize the consequences when I no longer exist,” Rafelor said jokingly.</p><p></p><p>Arnara continued to chuckle “Myrai once said something along those lines too. That we'd all be in good company for a very short moment.” Arnara looked at the copper wire, “I only just learned this spell while in Thay. I could try to find her with it...but I'm afraid to now. I don't know what I would say. So much has happened.”</p><p></p><p>“No need to jump the shark. You'll have plenty of time to think about what to say once this is all over.” Rafelor took a brief pause, getting lost in his head before speaking to Arnara again, “You'll see her again. Maybe we all will.”</p><p></p><p>“You'd like her; her capacity for alcohol is...high.” Arnara then stood up and stretched, “I'm going to the bath house to take a proper bath, and then I’ll Reverie. Thanks for...just thanks.”</p><p></p><p>“I'm really glad you came back safe.” Rafelor said as he stood.</p><p></p><p>Arnara nodded, “It was...close. Too close. I just hope that it was all worth it,” she said quietly.</p><p></p><p>“I believe,” Zinetra said as she and Irony exited the cloister. “the N<em>’Tel’Quessir </em>have a saying about that, something like, ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained?’ But a long bath would be nice to wash away the stench of dead pigs and other dread things.”</p><p></p><p>“I’ll take you out…the more traditional way if you follow me,” Irony said cheerfully, as she skipped ahead, with Rafelor and Arnara walking side by side, smiling at each other company, and finally Zinetra followed behind the pair, talking to herself quietly.</p><p></p><p>“Yes…there will be a price. I hope someone can bear the cost. Oh well, a problem for tomorrow I suppose.” She then broke into a mischievous grin and continued musing beneath her breath. “He is so delicious…if I can’t talk him into staying in the Feywild as a cupbearer, I will just have to pinch that round butt of his. Hmm…maybe I should start there and see what happens,” and Zinetra reached low toward her target with her open hand and…</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 8434533, member: 6971069"] [CENTER][B]Story – XVII- Daggers of the Mind[/B][/CENTER] The barkeeper was nothing if consistent, as he slid a mug down the counter, which Rafelor caught with a practiced hand, not even looking up. Perched once again on his stool of choice at the edge of the bar, he quickly sipped the strong dark liquor in hand. But he just as quickly put it down and resumed his study of a thick tome in his hand, full of drawings and dense text. His eyes squinted at the text when something finally did grab his awareness; the scent of someone who needs a bath approaching. The odor grew stronger, when he heard a deep jolly voice boom, “Hello friend. You look like the world has given you too much to think about. Perhaps I can buy you a beer, and we can talk about light hearted journeys in a jungle?” Rafelor was ready this time, as he felt the air stir behind him. With a quick whisper of a simple word, a shimmering barrier blocked the ogre’s hand from connecting to Rafelor’s back, and perhaps avoiding a cracked rib. Little One blinked in surprised and then laughed aloud, amused by Rafelor’s quick thinking. “Hey! That’s a neat trick. I'm sorry if I hurt you by accident. Friends?” And the ogre earnestly extended a hand to the half-elf, his nose still firmly planted in the tome. Without looking up, Rafelor let out a reluctant sigh. “Ah, what the hell? Friends.” And switching the book to his left hand, offers his right to the ogre, not thinking of the consequence. Little One grabbed his hand and squeezed, shaking his arm vigorously, to the sounds of bones popping in the ogre’s meaty paw. Rafelor almost dropped the book in surprise as his crushed hand ached in agony, and his arm felt like it would be wrenched from its socket. As Rafelor looked to gather his wits and say something intelligent to stop the assault on his hand, he heard the skipping of hooves on stone. Glancing to his side, he saw the tiefling Irony with a number of books in her arms which she deposited on the bar next to the stricken half-elf. “I found Ser Almases 'Mind and health', Keligos' 'The Temple of the Body,' and Burtons 'Imaginary Maladies of the Mind.' I hope they help.” She said as she leaned against the bar in exhaustion. She took in a deep breath and looked at Rafelor and noticed the rictus like smile on his face, as his hand was being getting crushed. “Little One! You need to watch your grip! Last time you did that, the healers had to regenerate the poor monk a new hand!” The Ogre blinked and turned red in the face and said, “Oh! Sorry! Of course. I should get my mittens first...I'll be back.” And the ogre then trundled off to the stairs to head towards his room. Irony turned to look at Rafelor with a sympathetic smile. “He's really a nice guy. just a bit...too...well...strong?” she said as she tried to massage the pain from Rafelor’s hand. “Anything else I can do for you?” "Mmmmm…thanks..grip…too strong," Rafelor said as the pins and needles retreated from his fingers. “I think that's good. Not quite a doctor yet, but there's some good stuff in here.” “Well...that might take a bit more than a book,” Irony said, still working her fingers around Rafelor’s. “According to 'Grayson's Anatomy' you need to work on the dead for a year or so to understand how a living person really works. Personally...I'd just find a cleric.” “A cleric huh?" and Rafelor thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Well, I do know where to find a cleric but...” “But?” “She's a good cleric. And a good person. But I don't think Arnara would want her to see herself in the state she's in.” Irony looked at Rafelor frowning, pulling her fingers across Rafelor’s. “It must be hard seeing...what a broken mirror of your friend? Well, I [B][I]assume[/I][/B] she is also your friend. But I guess you are really friends with...the Arnara that isn't here, right? Oh, this is complicated.” "I guess that's about right,” Rafelor said, putting down the book and closing it with his good hand. “It's weird. Like a yes and no at the same time. It keeps my head spinning, that's for sure. I can't even imagine how it feels for her.” Irony pulls on Rafelor’s fingers, popping the joint and reseating them into place, “She clearly wants to feel differently. And it upsets her, because it upsets you. Anyway...is there anything else I can get for you? I need to deliver a map to her in a bit.” “No, I'm good. Thanks” and Rafelor pulled his hand away and flexed it before grabbing his glass and quickly gulping the contents. “Alright then,” Irony said with a smile before turning to the barkeep. “Hey! Need a quarter chicken and a Metheglin!” "Which quarter?" the Barkeep said as he slid over another drink to Rafelor’s aching hand. “What? I have no idea...um...the tasty quarter?” Irony responded hoping the answer was clear enough. “Ah...leg meat. Be a moment.” And the barkeep wandered back to the kitchen to fetch the requested meal. Rafelor sat there in silence for a few moments when he remembered something. “Actually, wait a second, Irony?” The tiefling turned with a smile on her lips and answered, “Sure. what's up?” “I just remembered a question I had,” and he turned on his stool to face her. “You ever heard of objects moving on their own in Candlekeep?” “In the keep?” Irony said confused. “Well not unless Miirym is bored...but she usually is pretty visible when she wants to move things. Ghostly dragons stand out.” “So, nothing like bells moving towards people trying to ring them?” Rafelor pressed. Irony looks side to side as if concerned would overhear them. Leaning closers she asked, “What...like in the room with Arnara’s um…twin?” Rafelor nodded. “She's cut off from The Weave. Couldn't have done something like summon a bell on her own.” Irony shook her head, but her brow was knitted in thought before speaking again. “Wait...cut off? Then how...” She trailed off a moment and looked at Rafelor whispering, “She's been talking to me...in my head. I thought it was a spell. I mean she just told me as I walked into the bar to get a map of old Ilefarn...but you say she [B][I]can't[/I][/B] do that?” “She's...talking to you? She's never talked to me like that. And it should be impossible. The hags made her out to be completely helpless.” “Well...I'm not sure she even [I]knows[/I]. It’s like I hear in my head, 'I need to tell Irony to get a something,’ like she’s talking to herself, but I can hear it in my head. Does that make sense?” “Yeah.” Rafelor paused for a moment, before speaking again, “Well, no, actually. There's just no way, even if she doesn't know it, she could manipulate The Weave like that. Why didn't we ever hear it back in Chult?” Irony thought a moment, “I remember asking a stupid question when we first were introduced...I asked here where she had been recently, and she said, 'A Cage' and I laughed." Irony grimaced and looked at the half-elf with a look of guilt. “Turns out that wasn't funny. Would that have something to do with it?” “We found her in a cage, put there by a coven of hags, but I don't see what that has to do with anything.” “A cage built by hags?” Irony said sounding repulsed. “I'm guessing here. She's had a lot of time to herself...maybe she's discovered something?” Rafelor mused. Irony nodded and was about to speak, when she glanced over Rafelor's shoulder. Suddenly, her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide in awe. Before the half-elf could turn to see what had grabbed her attention, he felt a pair of soft hands reach around from behind and covered his eyes. The smell of flowers and pine filled his nostrils, and he felt the warm breath of someone unfamiliar whispering into his ear in a lightly accented feminine voice, “Don't turn around yet...I want to smell your air [I]Ha'Tel'Quessir.[/I] I want to understand who you are.” He felt someone is nuzzled and buried their nose into his hair, taken deep whiffs of his scent. Rafelor tensed, wondering if perhaps the aroma was a sort of siren. As he readied his body and mind for what could have been a sign of danger, he finally spoke, “What is this? Who's there?” The soft voice continued whispering into the half-elfs’ ear, “You are as described. A [I]Ha'Tel'Quessir[/I] who smells like they work hard, sweat, leather and metal. But the smell of bath salts tells me of someone that they care about...someone else’s appearance.” Rafelor could feel the air move around their lips. “You like hard liquor and prefer their meat well-seasoned. A [I]Ha'Tel'Quessir[/I] that knows what they want...usually.” Rafelor sat there on edge, with his eyes still covered by the soft warm hands. As he sat there, he then felt a warm body, slide around his own and then planted themselves on his lap. “A strong...almost human face, with an ...interesting choice of hair styling. And either well shaven, or unable to grow any hair to mar that face.” Rafelor said defensively, “I can grow hair.... wait what am I saying? What's going on?” The hand slid away from his eyes, and he blinked at what he saw. Perched on his lap was a leather clad feminine figure. Her skin was a tawny color, and she wore leather armor of the highest quality, with patterns of colored leaves stamped into it. Long tresses of auburn hair, cascaded onto her shoulders, with red and brown leaves seemly woven into her tresses. From beneath them a pair of slender pointed ears poked out, betraying her fey heritage. But what had Rafelor riveted was her eyes; they were a solid orange, the color of the setting sun without pupil or white. She smiled, and slid her arms around Rafelor, and she clung to him as she continued to speak, “A handsome face for a [I]Na'Tel'Quessir[/I]...very cute. This one would make a good page boy or cup bearer in the Feywild for a decade or two...someone to watch fetch things and do things. A fine form indeed,” and she ran her hand through Rafelor’s hair smiling with a dreamy, contented look on her face. Next to him, he heard Irony whisper in awe, “An Eladrin!” “Uh…Hmph, you came all this way just to compliment me?” Rafelor said trying to get control of the awkward situation. The Eladrin laughs "Of course Rafelor...I couldn't wait to meet another hero of Chult." she said smiling, and in the same contented tone. Rafelor smirked, “Well, here I am. In the flesh.” And quickly as it appeared, his smile faded and his expression changed to one of confusion. “Wait. 'Another'? What do you mean another?” “Zinetra! Stop teasing my pupil. He's going to pass out in fit of heavy breathing, if you keep playing with his hair that way! Nor can you just take him into the Feywild to make him a plaything of yours.” A much more familiar voice says behind him. Rafelor awkwardly attempted to turn to look behind him, “Hold on, what the hell is that supposed to mean!?” After a struggle to turn with the uncooperative Eladrin, Rafelor managed to twist around and saw a familiar silver haired Moon elf, wearing a fine tunic that was marred with soot, tears and holes. At her hip a delicate rapier hung while her arms were crossed in mock indignation. The elf looked tired, but she looked at the half-elf with a wide smile, which Rafelor realized he had rarely seen. Rafelor lowered his head and began to slow-clap as he stood up, causing the Eladrin to tumble to her feet. “Record time, Arnara. Record time.” He said, all the while looking down, trying to hide the immense smile of relief on his face. Arnara ran over and leapt at Rafelor, forcing him to catch her as she embraced him warmly. “I missed you too.” The eladrin stood there with a bemused look on her face. “And you were right, his face has the warmest pink when he blushes. And.....ooo! His ears also turn pink. How adorable!” she said as she giggled. Turning his heard Rafelor regarded the Eladrin, “Don't push it, Mother Nature.” “Now now,” the Eldarin chided. “There is no need to be rude. The sourness in your voice do you little favors.” “I guess I should introduce you,” Arnara said gesturing to her companion. “This is Zinetra Renecta, heir to the Coure of Mischief and Strife and Hierophant in the Circle of Wildfire." Arnara said respectfully. “You forgot, 'the Appellant of Autumn, of the Seelie court' dear." Zinetra said wagging her finger at Arnara. “And....that!” *Arnara gestured back at the Eladrin. “I hope I've haven't been too much trouble for you Raf," she continued. “We only just left after a major fight in Thay.” “It's been...interesting. But everything is under control here at Candlekeep.” Rafelor said breathing a little easier. “Told you everything would be fine Arnara," Zinetra said. “That's good. That last fight had us all on edge...I don't think I will forget that howl from the Demi-Lich. How did Hawthorne phrase it…almost put two of us in the 'dead-book'. Out of all the things we faced in Thay, that was perhaps the most painful. I’m so glad to have left that place." Irony stood there quietly as the two elves talked, her mouth agape the entire time. But at the word of pain, she closed it and her eyes widened in alarm. “Raf...what does that mean for—" Rafelor met Irony’s gaze and then started to run with Irony beside him, “—Oh crap. We gotta go. We gotta go [B][I]now[/I][/B].” Zinetra looked confused, “What? We just got here—” Arnara turned and followed the pair as they ran, with the Eladrin in tow. As they ran, Arnara shouted to Rafelor ahead of her, “Rafelor...what is going on?” “It's your double. If you were almost killed there then that means she’s…Irony, quick get us inside. We gotta move.” Irony nodded and dashed ahead to the Green Door shouting, “They’re authorized, it’s an emergency!” causing the guards to dart to the side, clearing the entry. Arnara struggled to keep up the half-elf and the tiefling, still trying to get answers. “Means? Means what?” “You were right. That connection between your minds is strong. Way too strong. Everything that happened in Thay, she experienced here. That includes all the pain.” Rafelor barked as he ran. “Our connection must have gotten stronger; it wasn’t that bad she said when I left,” Arnara yelled, her face stricken with horror and grief. “It shouldn’t have happened like that.” “Well, you were right about the ritual; it grows in strength over time. And that means this is going to be much harder than we thought to break it.” The Eladrin said catching up to them in a whirlwind of leaves, her long legs keeping pace easily. Irony didn’t choose a path around the towers in her rush. She ran through them, startling Avowed carrying books between the stacks. Her hooves pounded on stone, given a staccato like beat to run against as they avoided tables, carts, and people alike. Through buildings, over ledges and through some hedges as well, she guided them with a total disregard to the chaos she left behind her, until finally they ascended the tower stairs that led to the cloistered cell where the other Arnara studied. Rafelor easily kept pace with the Tiefling, but Arnara and Zinetra found themselves falling behind, apologizing to confused Avowed left behind in Irony’s wake. As she ran up the stairs, Irony pulled the key from her belt pouch and then slid on her hooves and started to fumble with the lock to the door, but it wasn’t long until everyone heard the sound of the bolt retracting. “Move out…wait this isn’t a pull door, right?” Rafelor asked, as he raised his leg. “No!” Irony said exasperated. Rafelor could hear the elves running up the tower behind him, as he kicked the door open and ran inside. The Other Arnara stood there, struggling to stand using her arms to steady herself, and using the desk for leverage. At the sound of the door smashing open, she raised her arms defensively as if to cover herself from an attack. But as she did so, in her hand appeared a shimmering white light, the size of a throwing blade appeared. Rafelor stopped to look at the light, shimmering like a mirage in the desert. There was no time to think, to register surprise or confusion though, as the white light left her hand and in a blink of an eye, struck the half-elf in the chest. The pain was like touching a hot stove or a poker from a hearth and Rafelor yelled as he clenched his chest, “AAAGH! What the..." he said, panting from both the run and the pain. He staggered in surprise, trying to keep his balance, as behind him, Irony shrieked, and dove to the floor, trying to cover her head. All the while the Other Arnara stared at her hand and then at Rafelor in shock. “Raf!” Arnara said, as she and Zinetra clambered into the room. Zinetra rushed forward to Rafelor, who was sinking to his knees, struggling to breath, and began whispering something in a strange melodious language. She then laid a hand on his shoulder, and Rafelor felt the pain subside as the magic healed his body. The Other Arnara stood there trembling unable to speak for a moment. But suddenly she clutched her head and started to breathe heavily. “What did I...No no no...Arnara...you're here...it it hurts...we can't...you have to." She shut her eyes tightly, and her hands covered her hears as if in pain. She stumbled, sank down onto the bed, and rocked back and forth, moaning. “Oh no...no no..I'm I’m sorry," Arnara said her face looking aghast. Looking torn she passed by Irony who was now standing up again. And looking torn, and helpless she whispered, “I'll stay outside and be quiet.” But this barely registered with Rafelor, as while the pain in his chest subsided, a new one grew in his head. It was similar to the spirit that once possessed him in Chult, but it was a familiar voice, echoing pain in his head as he heard, “The echoes...no no ...hurts hurts...what did I..how did I...” His hands leapt to the sides of his head, covering his ears. Irony looked at Rafelor and said, “I'm hearing her...can you...hear her?” and pointed at the Other Arnara who still rocked herself back and forth on the bed. She was starting to breath slower as she regained control of herself. Rafelor then pulled his hands away from his head, as the noise withing softened. “I can,” he said looking the mishappen elf in confusion. Zinetra left Rafelor’s side and sat down next to the rocking woman and whispered to her quietly in elvish, stroking her hair. Eventually, the Other Arnara slumps into the Eladrin’s arms, exhausted, but breathing easier. Zinetra continued to talk soothingly aloud, comforting the elf. “Such a rare gift. Arnara might have shown it, if she wasn't so focused on her Bladesong. I guess that nature has opened a different path for you.” “What is it? How can she do that?” Rafelor said, standing again and looking at the Eladrin in confusion. “I believe she is a [I]Nar'Kerym,[/I]” Zinetra said rocking Other Arnara in her arms. “The best translation in your common vernacular is a 'Soulknife'; One who can create blades with nothing more than a thought. It is a very rare art, as it takes very focused mind to manifest such a blade. It is not magic however, and it is about far from the Weave as one can go in fact.” “Soulknives? Like the Dreaming Dark had?” Rafelor said, remembering Shalai fighting in the tomb with others with gleaming light like blades. He didn’t get too close to Shalai’s opponents, as Garzuxl took all of his attention at the time. Zinetra turned her head to look at Raf in confusion. “Dreaming...Dark? I am not familiar with this—" “—I...We know what he is talking about,” the Other Arnara said quietly looking at Rafelor. “I remember seeing them...but not the details when I…she was fighting Acererak. It must be the same ability.” She then looked at her hand and her brow quivered a moment. Suddenly, the shimmering white shape reappeared in it. It didn’t look solid, and wavered and shimmered as it hung there in the air. Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished leaving the mishappen elf dumbfounded. “I don't understand. She's supposed to be cut off from the weave.” Rafelor then thought a moment before speaking again. “Unless that has something to do with it?” Zinetra looked at Rafelor as if he were a child. “No...as I said this is not of the weave. It is the highest focus of mind. If she is indeed cutoff from the Weave, it would explain why it manifested. Arnara has known nothing but the weave in her studies. Her mind, as sharp and powerful as it is, is probably blind to this skill, in [B][I]favor[/I][/B] of the Weave. But she,” And the Eladrin nodded her head, “Has never known the Weave's blessing. Her mind calls out for something...anything to replace it. You see...An elf may not practice magic, but they are a part of the Weave; we all are. I personally can’t think of anything more horrifying than being removed from the Weave's presence. But in her struggle to reach that which she cannot she found…something else.” And she continued to stroke the hair of the exhausted Other Arnara. “But this connection between them, must be undone. It is wrong and unnatural for her to be in this state. I have read and I do not like the ritual we must do to. But it appears to be the only way to make both whole. But I was asked to help, and I will. And you,” the druid pointed at Rafelor, “You will be needed for this, you will be the bridge and the blade for their souls to be shriven from each other. You are the key.” “Wh-What? What does that mean?” Rafelor spurted out before sighing in resignation. “Look at me, today I'm playing the role of the idiot who stands around confused, asking all the questions.” Zinetra smiled and looked at the half-elf with compassion, “This is why I needed to smell and touch you; to see if you could be that bridge. The path forward is someone who knows both sides of the same soul; you. No one else has spent as much time with both of them. You are a rock that their souls can cling to as we draw the two together with [I]Arselu’Tel’Quess[/I]. And then this ritual, will split them apart fully. They will use you as an anchor to find themselves and their bodies as two separate souls. I am sure you do not understand. But understanding is not needed here. Just you accepting this is true. And the risk,” Zinetra said solemly. “Oh boy...that's a destiny and a half right there. And the risks?” Rafelor said, shaking his head at the inevitable warning. “Elven souls can...split on their own in the womb of a mother. But then, they have nothing more than the mother as a bridge, and no memory beyond their past lives. The risk to the pair and their mother is small and the soul would heal easily. They probably never even notice the moment it occurs. But here, we have a soul only partially split, and with each side holding a strong attachment to a hundred years of memories. The split will be more difficult for them. But with you as a bridge; knowing them both, knowing how they differ is important. While you are neither family...nor a woman, it is to your advantage. An imperfect choice, and yet the best one. As the soul is split, they will cling to yours; desperately seeking to find themselves...and you risk them rending yours into nothing. If that happens; we will lose all three of you. But this is why you are ideal. Your sense of self is strong, and you can endure. You would not be compromised as a mother would be, one that would sacrifice themselves for the pair. That would just lead to the souls tearing into each other. There is a good chance that this ritual will work.” Zinetra chuckled, “In fact this might be as close to giving birth a male may ever have.” “I’m sorry, [B][I]what?[/I][/B]” Rafelor said as he looked at the druid in shock. "A mother risks her life to give birth to a child. All mothers do; beasts, elves, and humans alike. And pain is part of the experience. That pain, that act of...creation is why many mothers surrender their own to allow their children to be born. But a male...a male’s role is to protect not some, but all. They do not casually sacrifice themselves; they fight to the bitter end only making a sacrifice when all other options have been exhausted. They may say they would trade places for a person loved, but that is only in the quiet moment in between conflict. But that indomitable will is why you, and they, will all come through this. But it will hurt. A lot." “Oh...okay....okay then...so if this gets messed up, it's curtains to me. Geez." Rafelor walked over to the shuttered window and opened it, to stare outside, lost in his own thoughts. “To all of you,” Zinetra corrected. “All succeed or none do.” The Eladrin released the Other Arnara, and stood. She then walked over to Rafelor and placed her hand on his shoulder. “This is a difficult thing. And you must go with your eyes and mind open. Doubt will only make this...more difficult. But I do not know of another that could do this.” “It's not fair,” Rafelor said still gazing at the sight of the Sea of Swords outside. “You live through the tomb, you survive your trials, and you come out someone with a full life ahead of them. And then, the people you care about need you. So, you spend all your time trying to do everything in your power to make things right for them. And at the end of it all, you find out the only way you can see it through to the end, is by risking the very life you fought so hard to live for. “Ever since I met Arnara, it's always been one big step after another. Going to Chult, learning Bladesong, coming to terms with yourself, accepting what your precious journal actually means to you, risking your life for a world that never gave you a good hand, trying to live up to Kylan's impossible standard, worrying silly and devoting everything to caring for someone you're not even sure you're qualified to care for, and then putting your life and all your faith into something that may not work. “And yet, Arnara always said the same thing: ‘It's your decision, but once you say yes, there's no going back.’ And I'd always respond the same: ‘What choice do I have? I've come this far; there's no point in going back.’ The stakes are higher...but the principle remains the same.” He sighed again before looking into the sunset eyes of Zinetra, “I'll do it. And if I die, at least I'll know for a fact that my life had a purpose.” Zinetra’s solemnity had replaced the carefree being that sat in his lap earlier that day, “You must be clear on this; if this fails, there is no afterlife for your soul. It will be sundered into nothingness as much as theirs will. I will not be able to wave my hand to restore you...or them. They understand the risk, but the pain they suffer makes it an easy choice. It is different for you. But I have...faith in you. A better anchor could not be found, as I see the strength within.” Zinetra grabbed Rafelor's hands. “It will be my privilege to try, and guide you all back from the edge.” “Hmph. And what would my life be if I said no?” Rafelor said with a tone of bitterness. Zinetra looked at Rafelor and said the obvious, “One plagued with guilt I suppose, on what could have been.” “So, when do we start?” “First, we need a place that is...thin between the planes. A place that will act as a conduit for the souls,” Zinetra said. “I found such a place...” The Other Arnara stammered. “The Fane of [B]Naralis Analoris...[/B]it is in Ilefarn and I need a map to confirm its location. The last piece is word from my father. I will...er Arnara has made a sending and is awaiting a response.” The Other Arnara then cocked her head as if listening to something and then her shoulders slump down in resignation before raising her voice. “Go ahead Arnara. I think I can hold myself together.” She then covered her ears and closed her eyes tightly and waited. From outside the room, Arnara quickly entered the room and looked at her mishappened self. She stared a moment, clearly wanting to say something. She remained silent however, and instead hesitantly sat down beside her and embraced her. It was quiet for a moment, but the embraced elf breathing quickened. Finally, she started to shake her head and she squirmed to escape the Moon elf’s embrace. Arnara then quickly released her, and with tears in her eyes quickly left the room. Exhaling sharply the other Arnara the said quietly, “I think I need some rest.” She moved some pillows around to lean against the wall while to allow her to remain upright in the bed. “Alright then. Until then,” Rafelor walked out of the room not waiting for the Eladrin or the Tiefling. Crossing the threshold, he glanced over and saw Arnara, sitting on the floor, her head on her knees. He could hear the tears and the muffled sniffles as she sat there, with her head bowed. “Did you get all that?” Rafelor said, unsure if Arnara had heard anything that he or Zinetra had said earlier. But Arnara said nothing to the inquiry. Rafelor frowned in disapproval and shook his head. “Alright. Fair enough. Come on, Irony. Can't get out of here on my own.” He called to the Tiefling inside. “Wait...” he heard, and he turned to look at Arnara, still seated on the floor. She then leaned back, and Rafelor could see the tear-stained cheeks, but what was unexpected was the smile of pure happiness on her face. As she sat there in joyful tears, she twisted around a bit of copper wire in her hand her eyes focused elsewhere. Rafelor realized then what she was doing; as there was a spell that could deliver small messages with a bit of copper wire. But he realized that this one was a stronger one, pulling power from the weave, beyond a mere cantrip. He stood there and held up his hand to signal Irony to wait inside, and he knelt down to Arnara’s level. She then turned her head to looks Rafelor and whispered, choking on her tears, “He’s done it. The Royal Council needed some convincing, but Zinetra's patron...put in a good word for my father. They will let a [I]Selu'taar[/I] cast the spell. My father mentioned a price...but he wasn't clear on what. I can tell my father where to bring the [I]Selu’taar[/I], and we can go tomorrow.” “Right on.” Rafelor said, placing a hand on Arnara and gave her a wolfish grin. Arnara continued shaking her head, “The elves are no longer teaching [I]Arselu'Tel'Quess.[/I] This may be the last time that it is ever cast. Once upon a time I would be excited to see such magic to study it; something unique to us. But...I just want it to work. I want it to be over. I didn't know how much I was going to need you, when I asked for your help. I'm sorry for asking. For putting you at risk.” “I'd rather do something than do nothing. I know you care and all, and that's cool. But I can't have you go marching to your death if I have anything to say about it.” “You always were one to act first, and then realize the consequences much much later,” Arnara said with an impish grin. “Probably why Zinetra finds you so cute.” “I could follow that cute butt up any set of stairs,” Zinetra called in from the other room. The pair chuckled together. “Heh. Can't make me realize the consequences when I no longer exist,” Rafelor said jokingly. Arnara continued to chuckle “Myrai once said something along those lines too. That we'd all be in good company for a very short moment.” Arnara looked at the copper wire, “I only just learned this spell while in Thay. I could try to find her with it...but I'm afraid to now. I don't know what I would say. So much has happened.” “No need to jump the shark. You'll have plenty of time to think about what to say once this is all over.” Rafelor took a brief pause, getting lost in his head before speaking to Arnara again, “You'll see her again. Maybe we all will.” “You'd like her; her capacity for alcohol is...high.” Arnara then stood up and stretched, “I'm going to the bath house to take a proper bath, and then I’ll Reverie. Thanks for...just thanks.” “I'm really glad you came back safe.” Rafelor said as he stood. Arnara nodded, “It was...close. Too close. I just hope that it was all worth it,” she said quietly. “I believe,” Zinetra said as she and Irony exited the cloister. “the N[I]’Tel’Quessir [/I]have a saying about that, something like, ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained?’ But a long bath would be nice to wash away the stench of dead pigs and other dread things.” “I’ll take you out…the more traditional way if you follow me,” Irony said cheerfully, as she skipped ahead, with Rafelor and Arnara walking side by side, smiling at each other company, and finally Zinetra followed behind the pair, talking to herself quietly. “Yes…there will be a price. I hope someone can bear the cost. Oh well, a problem for tomorrow I suppose.” She then broke into a mischievous grin and continued musing beneath her breath. “He is so delicious…if I can’t talk him into staying in the Feywild as a cupbearer, I will just have to pinch that round butt of his. Hmm…maybe I should start there and see what happens,” and Zinetra reached low toward her target with her open hand and… [/QUOTE]
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Session Stories - Moments in Roleplaying (updated 6/15/2023)
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