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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 1242249" data-attributes="member: 2323">[PLAIN][Drealond #5] Decisions. Decisions.[/PLAIN]Draelond looked at the man curiously, not for a second loosening his grip on the great bastard sword that still held the slain beast's carcass firmly against the terrain. "I have many questions, and perhaps you have answers," he said, peering at the man. "But perhaps you also conspire to steer me wrong." The man looked casually at his hands as though he had no interest in what Draelond was saying. The warrior stood straighter, wincing at the pain in his torso as he did."What do you say?" he asked."You've asked me no questions, so for now, I say nothing," the man replied."This creature, the one you called the harvester... What kind of beast is this?" Draelond asked, nudging the thing's inert body with his toe. The stranger made a dismissing gesture with his hand. "The harvesters roam the plane in search of souls to devour. Their power derives from the souls they capture," said the man, rarely changing the tone in his voice. "But they are just one of the many dangers you face walking this plane. And one of the lesser dangers at that.""I ask for your help since I have no allies in this strange place. What can you tell me of where I am?" Draelond asked, planting his foot on the creature's corpse and jerking his sword free of it. "How do I leave this place and go back to the place from which I came?"For the first time since his abrupt landing on the snow, Draelond felt a glimmer of hope. But it quickly began to fade as the man began to laugh at him."I like you, warrior!" the man said between guffaws. "You bring a touch of mirth to this joyless place!"Draelond scowled and stared at the man icily. "What is this place?" he demanded, his voice filled with restrained fury."Purgatorium!" the man said with a broad smile. He raised his hands expansively and spun in a little circle. "The Seasons of the Soul! The gateway to Myrkul's judgement! The Walk of One Hundred Days! The crossroads of the dead!" He laughed again and stopped spinning, his face toward Draelond and his hands planted on his knees. "Pick your euphemism, warrior. The reality is the same."Silence hung between them for a time during which the distant sounds of steel ringing on steel reached Draelond's ears. "I'm dead," he said finally, his voice sounding very small."Very good," the man smiled. "There's more to you than just muscles, I see. Of course, most of the departed realize their situation right off. Better late than never, I suppose."Draelond's scowl deepened. He didn't like this stranger. "How do I leave?" he asked."Only two ways out for a departed like you," the man said and cocked his thumbs in opposite directions. "The front door and the back door." Draelond's eyes narrowed and the man shook his head in disgust. "On to judgement and the Outer Planes or back to the Prime.""I choose the latter," Draelond said flatly and the man laughed again."You really are a funny one, warrior," he chuckled. "It's usually the evil ones that beg for another chance at the mortal coil.""I'm not evil," Draelond said, puffing out his chest despite the pain of his injuries."And that's what makes you so funny," the man repeated. "Giving up the comfort of eternity on the Higher Planes in order to continue the daily struggle on the Prime. It's funny!""I left too many responsibilities behind," Draelond said gravely. "My duty is unfulfilled."This response caused the man to laugh all the harder, so much so that tears squirted out of his eyes. "That's rich!" he laughed, holding his belly with one gloved hand. "It doesn't matter anyway, warrior. I know for a fact that there are others who've been hired to make sure you don't move on, even if you wanted to.""What?" Draelond asked. "What do you mean?""I mean that there are some factions determined to prevent you from reaching Aoemzyre and the Outer Planes," the man explained. His attitude had sobered quickly. "The Fate Defiers don't want any mortal souls reaching the gods, but they've taken a particular interest in making sure you don't. And they're not the only ones. The Olnag-Kun are also after you for one reason or another. And a group of Cyois-ghalfung are the ones who hired me to find you.""H-hired you?" Draelond stammered the enormity of his situation sinking in at last.The stranger pointed to a round patch embroidered on the shoulder of his leather jerkin. "I'm with the Astral Bounty Hunter 's Guild," he said. "And I've been hired to deliver you to a Cyois-ghalfung grove just this side of the Bridge of Parturition.""And if I do not wish to go?"  Draelond asked, raising Ravager to a ready position."Don't worry, warrior," the bounty hunter said. "I've got an offer for you before we resort to a test of blades - a test that I am sure to win, by the way. Have you heard of Death's Forsaken?"Draelond shook his head, but did not lower his sword."I'm not surprised, considering all the enemies they have. They are a secret brotherhood that exists on the Prime - those who have returned from the dead and have become sensitive to the worlds beyond death as a result," the man went on. "As you might imagine, I have many contacts within their ranks and I am willing to break my contract, take you back to the Prime, and make the proper introductions for you within the Forsaken."Draelond's heart jumped at the opportunity to return to Oerune and the bounty hunter read it on his face."Or I can take you to the Cyois-ghalfung grove and you can find out what the druids there want with you," he finished. "The choice is yours."</blockquote>

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