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The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions
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<blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 4097534" data-attributes="member: 2323"><p><strong>[PLAIN][Realms #430] Breaking Up is Easy, part 1[/PLAIN]</strong></p><p></p><p>"Shamalin, Fly boy," Huzair shouted over his shoulder. "Ixin's body is in the pit. It looks as if she was run through." Shamalin let out a small cry of alarm and clanked over to where the wizard stood. Morier turned aside, a grimace on his face as she slowed at the edge of the fire pit.</p><p></p><p>The cleric stared in silence at the body Huzair had discovered and waited for the rush of emotion to hit her. But the riveting sense of loss she had felt so poignantly after the events at Miller's Pond eluded her. She glanced around guiltily, reading anger and frustration in Huzair's dark face. And yet, she felt nothing.</p><p></p><p>The newcomer, Ahlear looked over Shamalin's shoulder and sighed. He mumbled something under his breath about nature seeming hungry this time of year but Shamalin's mind was focused too intently on the numbness in her heart for her to hear his words clearly. With a deep sigh, she bowed her head. Eerily, Ixin's words resounded suddenly in her mind: "It sounds like you do not have much in the way of feeling left in you. You are clearly a survivor. That is a smart survival strategy." Sick with her own lack of feeling, Shamalin reached her hand out to hover over Ixin's body and began to pray, both for Flor's</p><p>blessing and Ixin's forgiveness.</p><p></p><p>When she was done, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Ahlear's weathered face looking down on her. "Do not worry if you feel numb," he said and she jumped at the man's comment. He held up a hand to allay her fears of a telepathy. "I can see from your face that you are weary of the death that lies before you and the others, perhaps, in the past. But it is not up to you to shoulder the burden of guilt all by yourself. Life gives and takes. Even as Ixin and Karak move on, you have been blessed by receiving my presence. But with the loss of two we still have to burden up, all of us, because I cannot shoulder the effect of two by my own presence."</p><p></p><p>Shamalin looked at him blankly and he turned back toward the keep, pausing only to make a gesture over the drakeling's corpse, saying, "May the afterlife be as gentle for them, as life was harsh on them."</p><p></p><p>"Wait," the Mercybringer protested. "That gesture you made... Did the elves teach you spellcasting?" Ahlear nodded.</p><p></p><p>"My mother taught me the basics," he said. "But it was actually a human who helped me find my path through life." Shamalin looked for some sort of holy symbol on him, but apart from a torc around his neck he wore no jewelry that she could see.</p><p></p><p>"Which, if any, of the gods do you serve?" she asked and Ahlear turned more properly to face her.</p><p></p><p>"Shamalin, in priciple I do not - nor does any other druid - have to serve any of the gods," he told her. "But as it stands, I did vouch to one particular goddes, namely Akadi, mistress of Air, as I think air is one of the four key elements needed for continued life." He turned an envious eye on Ayremac standing some dozen paces away and added, "And I always had the wish to fly about with wings of my own."</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>"There, angel, it is as I said," the one-armed man growled, gripping his spear tightly. "Alechtus murdered your friends, now leave us in peace." Ayremac held up his hands in a calming gesture.</p><p></p><p>"Put your weapons down, please, " he said. "We will leave you, but we have questions first."</p><p></p><p>'Sir Alechtus,' Morier turned the name over and over in his mind as he made for the gate. It was familiar, but where had he heard it? He could even hear the same disdain the boy had spat out when using the title 'Sir', but somewhere in the blur of the last hundred moons, he couldn't recall where that familiarity had its seed and so he tried to force the thoughts from his mind.</p><p></p><p>"Yes," Morier said as he stepped up. "What of Karak? Did anyone see him?" The leader scowled at the eldritch warrior and shook his head. Neither he nor the men and women with him put down their weapons.</p><p></p><p>"We've seen nobody but you lot and that devil, Alechtus!" the red-haired warrior said.</p><p>"Sir Alechtus," Morier repeated, and it stopped his mind in its tracks. It was Arwold Wyverneye's voice he heard, as he said it, he was now sure of it.</p><p></p><p>"Aye!" the man at the gate said. "He did call himself 'Sir', though he were unlike any knight I've ever encountered."</p><p></p><p>It had been while Morier was explaining to Wyverneye about Ledare's death that he had spoken of this man. Alechtus had sought Ledare... something about a sword. Tiny shards of the story came rushing back to him: a half-crazed leader of a group called "The Order of Endings", a halfling named Harcourt... foggy at best. The sad truth was that he hadn't been paying close attention to Arwold when he recounted where he had been prior to taking over as the caretaker of the Manor, but now he wished he had.</p><p></p><p>"Tell us anything you can about Alechtus," Ayremac suggested. "I want to know every item you saw on his person. What did his weapons do or look like? And especially - and please try to remember clearly - what did he say he was going to do?" The man bared his teeth and glared at Ayremac.</p><p></p><p>The lone detail that stuck out now was Wyverneye's description of Alechtus' "otherworldly strength" when he went into one of the fits of rage to which he was apparently prone.</p><p></p><p>"There was little about his person that was remarkable apart from that damned sword! I've never seen its like and hope never to again," he explained, spitting on the ground in a way that reminded both Morier and Ayremac of Karak. "Called it a runesword, he did. And he was always talking to it like it was a living thing, which I suppose it may well have been. The damnable thing answered him often enough."</p><p></p><p>"But there was nothing else you can think of?" Ayremac pressed. "Did he use magic? What about his armor?"</p><p></p><p>"He wore light armor - a shirt of chain only. No shield. But his kit isn't what'll give you the trouble," he snorted. "The man - if man he be - was well and truly mad - going on half the time about running from the Sanctifiers after he'd already killed them all. He went completely berserk when he saw Lannet and crushed the little guy to death beneath Voril's anvil. He picked the thing up over his head and threw it at Lannet; and I'm talking about the big anvil. It was the most amazing and horrible thing I've ever seen." Ayremac glanced at Morier, but the albino seemed too consumed with his own thoughts to</p><p>glance back.</p><p></p><p>A chill traced its way up Morier's spine. They would have to act, he knew, and he turned without aother word and headed for their camp.</p><p></p><p>"What were his plans? Did he say?" the holy warrior asked, looking puzzled after the retreating eldritch warrior. The red-haired man shook his head.</p><p></p><p>"As I said, he spoke with Chag's tongue[1]. We did our best to stay out of his way, not sit and chat with him," he said. "And you'd do well to take the same stance. Nothing but ill can come from that madman." Ayremac sighed and nodded curtly.</p><p></p><p>"I thank you for your information. I have bound myself to a quest, but am also honor bound to offer help in the name of Umba," the Officer explained. "If you require any healing or aid, please... now is the time, as we need to continue our pursuit."</p><p></p><p>"No," the man said flatly, making a chopping motion with the stump of his left arm. "Just leave us be."</p><p></p><p>"Your men will need to be in full health to fight against Alechtus, should he return," Shamalin added as she approached once more. "Will you not allow us to help make you strong before we go?"</p><p></p><p>"Shandril could do nothing," the man replied. "And we trusted her a lot more than we trust any of you!"</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>"We have to make a decision here," Ayremac said once they'd retreated to their campsite, which was largely packed and ready for them to leave thanks to Anania's diligence. "Do we track this monster, or do we keep a direct march for our larger quest."</p><p></p><p>"We're chasing bees again..." Morier muttered and Huzair threw up his hands in disgust.</p><p></p><p>"Not the bee thing again," the wizard protested and Morier shot him a harsh look.</p><p></p><p>"I am packing up and heading out after Dirdana's heart," the albino said. "If anyone is left behind playing around chasing after Alechtus, so be it."</p><p></p><p>"Ixin was a friend to me, Whitey!" Huzair scowled. "And now she is dead and you want me to walk away like means nothing to me?" Morier did not turn to look at the mage, but his slim shoulders slumped with fatigue.</p><p></p><p>"I grow weary of loss, Huzair. I grow weary of evil. I grow weary of those that refuse to take seriously the magnitude of what we set out to do. Every day that we spend chasing another rabbit down another hole slows our progress at putting a stop to the bigger evil that washes over the entirety of the Realms," he said. "If you desire to play about running down Alechtus, then I bid you well and wish good luck to you... if you wish to come with me to finish the goal we set out to accomplish and have been outfitted to do, then I thank you for your allegiance and ask that you be ready to depart as soon as possible."</p><p></p><p>Nobody said anything immediately in response, but Anania shouldered her own small bag before kicking snow into the remains of their campfire. Ayremac sighed and stepped forward.</p><p></p><p>"I believe that Umba's judement is the greatest judgement of all, and it is impossible to escape by any mortal," the holy warrior explained.</p><p></p><p>"But the laws of Man are also important and we cannot just turn our back on this injustice and leave this man to wander to the next settlement and destroy them as well." Morier said nothing as he readied his pack.</p><p></p><p>"I say we move on this Alechtus and kill him," Ayremac suggested, looking about at the other faces around the campsite. "What say you? Will you honor our laws and our fallen comrades?"</p><p></p><p>"I am going to fry that bastard, Alechtus, if it is the last thing I do," Huzair snapped, shaking a fist for emphasis.</p><p></p><p>"Ayremac, this evil we fight knows no law... it cares nothing for the rules of Men," Morier said. "We're charged with much a more important task than assuring that this 'Sir Alechtus of Gudiberg' is brought to justice; we've a far greater purpose. If we continue to be stalled at every turn, the evil that awaits is infinitely worse than anything Alechtus can bring down upon us. We need to forge ahead and find Dridana's Heart."</p><p></p><p>Ayremac said nothing, seeming to consider the worth of Morier's words. Huzair, on the other hand barely seemed to be listening. "I really want to get this son of a bitch," he said. "I am sending Sparky after him, regardless of what you think is unimportant."</p><p></p><p>"I'll send Nibble after the track and with his keen nose ability, he'll shadow the rider," Ahlear offered. "I'll tell him to come back when he finds him." Huzair turned to look at the man.</p><p></p><p>"You can do that?" the wizard asked and before Ahlear could answer, Morier stood up and interposed himself between the newcomer and the remaining members of the Order.</p><p>"Give me a few moments with the rest of the group to talk to them about your presence," the albino suggested. "I think they will be receptive, but it is best if you allow me to break the ice." Ahlear looked at the others and nodded.</p><p></p><p>"I will prepare Nibble," he said and stepped a discreet distance away, clucking his tongue for his rat to follow.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Jon Potter, post: 4097534, member: 2323"] [b][PLAIN][Realms #430] Breaking Up is Easy, part 1[/PLAIN][/b] "Shamalin, Fly boy," Huzair shouted over his shoulder. "Ixin's body is in the pit. It looks as if she was run through." Shamalin let out a small cry of alarm and clanked over to where the wizard stood. Morier turned aside, a grimace on his face as she slowed at the edge of the fire pit. The cleric stared in silence at the body Huzair had discovered and waited for the rush of emotion to hit her. But the riveting sense of loss she had felt so poignantly after the events at Miller's Pond eluded her. She glanced around guiltily, reading anger and frustration in Huzair's dark face. And yet, she felt nothing. The newcomer, Ahlear looked over Shamalin's shoulder and sighed. He mumbled something under his breath about nature seeming hungry this time of year but Shamalin's mind was focused too intently on the numbness in her heart for her to hear his words clearly. With a deep sigh, she bowed her head. Eerily, Ixin's words resounded suddenly in her mind: "It sounds like you do not have much in the way of feeling left in you. You are clearly a survivor. That is a smart survival strategy." Sick with her own lack of feeling, Shamalin reached her hand out to hover over Ixin's body and began to pray, both for Flor's blessing and Ixin's forgiveness. When she was done, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Ahlear's weathered face looking down on her. "Do not worry if you feel numb," he said and she jumped at the man's comment. He held up a hand to allay her fears of a telepathy. "I can see from your face that you are weary of the death that lies before you and the others, perhaps, in the past. But it is not up to you to shoulder the burden of guilt all by yourself. Life gives and takes. Even as Ixin and Karak move on, you have been blessed by receiving my presence. But with the loss of two we still have to burden up, all of us, because I cannot shoulder the effect of two by my own presence." Shamalin looked at him blankly and he turned back toward the keep, pausing only to make a gesture over the drakeling's corpse, saying, "May the afterlife be as gentle for them, as life was harsh on them." "Wait," the Mercybringer protested. "That gesture you made... Did the elves teach you spellcasting?" Ahlear nodded. "My mother taught me the basics," he said. "But it was actually a human who helped me find my path through life." Shamalin looked for some sort of holy symbol on him, but apart from a torc around his neck he wore no jewelry that she could see. "Which, if any, of the gods do you serve?" she asked and Ahlear turned more properly to face her. "Shamalin, in priciple I do not - nor does any other druid - have to serve any of the gods," he told her. "But as it stands, I did vouch to one particular goddes, namely Akadi, mistress of Air, as I think air is one of the four key elements needed for continued life." He turned an envious eye on Ayremac standing some dozen paces away and added, "And I always had the wish to fly about with wings of my own." "There, angel, it is as I said," the one-armed man growled, gripping his spear tightly. "Alechtus murdered your friends, now leave us in peace." Ayremac held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Put your weapons down, please, " he said. "We will leave you, but we have questions first." 'Sir Alechtus,' Morier turned the name over and over in his mind as he made for the gate. It was familiar, but where had he heard it? He could even hear the same disdain the boy had spat out when using the title 'Sir', but somewhere in the blur of the last hundred moons, he couldn't recall where that familiarity had its seed and so he tried to force the thoughts from his mind. "Yes," Morier said as he stepped up. "What of Karak? Did anyone see him?" The leader scowled at the eldritch warrior and shook his head. Neither he nor the men and women with him put down their weapons. "We've seen nobody but you lot and that devil, Alechtus!" the red-haired warrior said. "Sir Alechtus," Morier repeated, and it stopped his mind in its tracks. It was Arwold Wyverneye's voice he heard, as he said it, he was now sure of it. "Aye!" the man at the gate said. "He did call himself 'Sir', though he were unlike any knight I've ever encountered." It had been while Morier was explaining to Wyverneye about Ledare's death that he had spoken of this man. Alechtus had sought Ledare... something about a sword. Tiny shards of the story came rushing back to him: a half-crazed leader of a group called "The Order of Endings", a halfling named Harcourt... foggy at best. The sad truth was that he hadn't been paying close attention to Arwold when he recounted where he had been prior to taking over as the caretaker of the Manor, but now he wished he had. "Tell us anything you can about Alechtus," Ayremac suggested. "I want to know every item you saw on his person. What did his weapons do or look like? And especially - and please try to remember clearly - what did he say he was going to do?" The man bared his teeth and glared at Ayremac. The lone detail that stuck out now was Wyverneye's description of Alechtus' "otherworldly strength" when he went into one of the fits of rage to which he was apparently prone. "There was little about his person that was remarkable apart from that damned sword! I've never seen its like and hope never to again," he explained, spitting on the ground in a way that reminded both Morier and Ayremac of Karak. "Called it a runesword, he did. And he was always talking to it like it was a living thing, which I suppose it may well have been. The damnable thing answered him often enough." "But there was nothing else you can think of?" Ayremac pressed. "Did he use magic? What about his armor?" "He wore light armor - a shirt of chain only. No shield. But his kit isn't what'll give you the trouble," he snorted. "The man - if man he be - was well and truly mad - going on half the time about running from the Sanctifiers after he'd already killed them all. He went completely berserk when he saw Lannet and crushed the little guy to death beneath Voril's anvil. He picked the thing up over his head and threw it at Lannet; and I'm talking about the big anvil. It was the most amazing and horrible thing I've ever seen." Ayremac glanced at Morier, but the albino seemed too consumed with his own thoughts to glance back. A chill traced its way up Morier's spine. They would have to act, he knew, and he turned without aother word and headed for their camp. "What were his plans? Did he say?" the holy warrior asked, looking puzzled after the retreating eldritch warrior. The red-haired man shook his head. "As I said, he spoke with Chag's tongue[1]. We did our best to stay out of his way, not sit and chat with him," he said. "And you'd do well to take the same stance. Nothing but ill can come from that madman." Ayremac sighed and nodded curtly. "I thank you for your information. I have bound myself to a quest, but am also honor bound to offer help in the name of Umba," the Officer explained. "If you require any healing or aid, please... now is the time, as we need to continue our pursuit." "No," the man said flatly, making a chopping motion with the stump of his left arm. "Just leave us be." "Your men will need to be in full health to fight against Alechtus, should he return," Shamalin added as she approached once more. "Will you not allow us to help make you strong before we go?" "Shandril could do nothing," the man replied. "And we trusted her a lot more than we trust any of you!" "We have to make a decision here," Ayremac said once they'd retreated to their campsite, which was largely packed and ready for them to leave thanks to Anania's diligence. "Do we track this monster, or do we keep a direct march for our larger quest." "We're chasing bees again..." Morier muttered and Huzair threw up his hands in disgust. "Not the bee thing again," the wizard protested and Morier shot him a harsh look. "I am packing up and heading out after Dirdana's heart," the albino said. "If anyone is left behind playing around chasing after Alechtus, so be it." "Ixin was a friend to me, Whitey!" Huzair scowled. "And now she is dead and you want me to walk away like means nothing to me?" Morier did not turn to look at the mage, but his slim shoulders slumped with fatigue. "I grow weary of loss, Huzair. I grow weary of evil. I grow weary of those that refuse to take seriously the magnitude of what we set out to do. Every day that we spend chasing another rabbit down another hole slows our progress at putting a stop to the bigger evil that washes over the entirety of the Realms," he said. "If you desire to play about running down Alechtus, then I bid you well and wish good luck to you... if you wish to come with me to finish the goal we set out to accomplish and have been outfitted to do, then I thank you for your allegiance and ask that you be ready to depart as soon as possible." Nobody said anything immediately in response, but Anania shouldered her own small bag before kicking snow into the remains of their campfire. Ayremac sighed and stepped forward. "I believe that Umba's judement is the greatest judgement of all, and it is impossible to escape by any mortal," the holy warrior explained. "But the laws of Man are also important and we cannot just turn our back on this injustice and leave this man to wander to the next settlement and destroy them as well." Morier said nothing as he readied his pack. "I say we move on this Alechtus and kill him," Ayremac suggested, looking about at the other faces around the campsite. "What say you? Will you honor our laws and our fallen comrades?" "I am going to fry that bastard, Alechtus, if it is the last thing I do," Huzair snapped, shaking a fist for emphasis. "Ayremac, this evil we fight knows no law... it cares nothing for the rules of Men," Morier said. "We're charged with much a more important task than assuring that this 'Sir Alechtus of Gudiberg' is brought to justice; we've a far greater purpose. If we continue to be stalled at every turn, the evil that awaits is infinitely worse than anything Alechtus can bring down upon us. We need to forge ahead and find Dridana's Heart." Ayremac said nothing, seeming to consider the worth of Morier's words. Huzair, on the other hand barely seemed to be listening. "I really want to get this son of a bitch," he said. "I am sending Sparky after him, regardless of what you think is unimportant." "I'll send Nibble after the track and with his keen nose ability, he'll shadow the rider," Ahlear offered. "I'll tell him to come back when he finds him." Huzair turned to look at the man. "You can do that?" the wizard asked and before Ahlear could answer, Morier stood up and interposed himself between the newcomer and the remaining members of the Order. "Give me a few moments with the rest of the group to talk to them about your presence," the albino suggested. "I think they will be receptive, but it is best if you allow me to break the ice." Ahlear looked at the others and nodded. "I will prepare Nibble," he said and stepped a discreet distance away, clucking his tongue for his rat to follow. [/QUOTE]
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