Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

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artemitavik
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Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

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"But what would your wife think...?!" Was blurted out as he stood at the Sauna door by the Sunite priestess.

It stopped him dead. He stared at the door for a moment in complete numbness.

"At this exact moment? Nothing." He finally replied.

"Oh.... um... fair...."

He had been joking with the inhabitants of the Sauna towards the tail end of Teris' incredibly successful birthday party. He had knocked on the door and asked if people needed wine... or perhaps food toppings! It was all in jest of course, as well as the popping in on the small group inside that had been chatting away when he arrived.

He could feel both Lylan and Adrian cringe on the other side of the door without seeing them. Silently, he turned on his heel and walked off.

The dice game was going on still, which was fine. He announced he was going downstairs. Once in the conference room, he lost all pretense of control. Grabbing a chair by the back, the wood starting to sizzle with acid burn, he screamed in unintelligible rage and smashed the chair on the stone floor as hard as he could. The debris went flying across the room.

"What would my wife think? I don't gods-damn know..." he hissed to himself.

At that time, Teris came downstairs, probably having heard the noise with his sharp, druidic hearing.

"Are you alright?"

"No. Go back to your party, I'll be fine."

"I... um.... alright"

The Druid turned to leave and Derik addressed him again, that he was proud of Teris, and happy for his party with so many friends, and that he himself had probably had more fun tonight than he had in a long time. It wasn't a lie. Teris left.

Shortly after, there was a knocking on the door to the downstairs from upstairs. He had no idea who it was. He didn't answer.

He just laid on his couch and stared at the ceiling, thinking.... nothing.
Derik Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!!
Headmaster, Bladestone Foundation.
Proprietor, The Last Anchor
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artemitavik
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Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

================================
Derik found himself in a familiar place; at the foot of the sapling of the world tree. He stood in a familiar spot; before the names of the two Tannen shaman that served to the end and tragic fates. The grandfather wiped out by his brother's greed, the granddaughter's life given to protect an adopted son after being denied any blood children of her own. Both full of so much love that they never complained about their fate.

The tree was glowing and warm. Vibrantly colored leafs fell around him

The warrior looked around. Not the usual dream. Usually he was chasing Lannia through the forest glens or watching her fall off the cliff at Ulgoth's or something.

A gloved hand reached out to trace the grandfather's name, and the the name of his wife
"... gods, I miss you..."

An arrow landed with uncanny accuracy, sinking into the wood right beside his hand mere millimeters from taking off one of his fingers

He doesn't even flinch, he just looks at the arrow

The arrow blazed with the bright white light that came off the spirit arrows he had seen from Lannia's bow during spirit walks.


"Do you?"

He lowered his hand and turned around "Of course I do. Is there even a doubt?"

What stood on the horizon, seemingly miles away, before him was her spirit form; the half-woman/half wolf archer. On her right flank was a great glowing lion and to her left Naq'pote. When she spoke it was like she was right beside him and not that considerable distance away.

"Then why don't you hear me? I think you are angry. I think you are angry that I had to leave and you shut me out."

Derik Sank down to the ground and leans against the tree, arms on his knees "I am. I am angry. I am hurt. Angry and hurt that you left for months to battle a thing and would not contact me or let me contact you. Angry and hurt you came back for three hours and then were gone. Angry and hurt that it feels like you didn't trust me to find a way to help without making matters worse, that it feels like you didn't believe in me while I waited, desperate to know anything."

"I know why you did what you did. My mind understands. My heart bleeds, knowing only that it reaches for you to find you are not there."

"And I'm angry and hurt at myself, for not finding a way to save you..."

A whisper ...I'm sorry...

The lion became a man, Derik recognizing the spirit that he had only seen once before. The man looked to Lannia and then to Cider. He motioned and the wolf followed him away. Lannia slowly melted into her human form. She still stood so far away but he could swear he felt her breath on his skin as she spoke.

"I've tried to speak to you. You can't hear me because you are to angry."

She looked around. "For some time I had feared I would not be able to reach you at all but this girl. . . This young shaman girl you've met. . . She is more powerful than she knows. Her very presence warps the veil around her. It is thinner near her. It is by virtue of her proximity to you now that I can speak to you at all through your pain. She must be fishing while you sleep in the anchor. While she is so unintentionally giving me the chance I will speak clearly. If you wish to reach me in your dreams, warrior, you can. Every night if you wish, but you have to let go. You have to let go of the anger."

"But if I am honest, I would see you happy. I want you to let go of your anger and let go of me. Show Delcan the goofy, playful father he deserves. Whatever it takes for you to achieve that, do it. Live your life to its fullest, and I will be here waiting."

"I cannot give you the name of this evil. . . To speak it's name would invite it. Draw it's attention. You will know it, when your time standing between is done and you can join the final battle with me."

. . . I long to fire my arrows over your shoulder again, dragon. Show me you can still roar. . ."

She began to flicker

"Seems she is moving away from you. . . Please. . . Let go."

And then there was only darkness.

Derik stood, reaching out to the darkness "No... please... don't go. Please, my Strength, don't leave again! Please... "

He is still for a moment? an eternity? His arm lowers "I can't. I can't let go of you. But my anger... I... forgive me, Kili. I will try. Gods I will try. Please.... don't leave me alone again... please come back."

"I will find a way to let go."

He stared at the darkness, knowing he would see nothing "I will find a way to you again..."

================================================================================

Derik woke awake with a start "DON'T GO!.... don't.... " looking around the empty room in the Anchor, Declan in Waterdeep till the Aboleth crisis is resolved

"Thank you, my love. Maybe we can speak again when I've learned how. I miss you. I will reach you..."
"Declan may no longer look for you, but I will not stop. But you're right, I have to find a way to let go. I have to find a way to return to the man you love."

And so he laid back down and pulled up the quilt, willing himself to go back to sleep
Derik Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!!
Headmaster, Bladestone Foundation.
Proprietor, The Last Anchor
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artemitavik
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Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

In the evening of the 13th of the 5th month, Derik walked through the meeting room and the office in the downstairs of the Anchor. In his hands an assortment of items he had retrieved from the kitchen.

Once in the bedroom, he placed them on the table. A small cake. A candle. A mug. A bottle of cider. He poured the cider into the mug, a bottle of Lannia's favorite, and set it next to the cake. Empty mugs sat across the table as well, where his other family of the Coast, Ronja and Talio would have been for the private little party. However, they were now estranged. Glancing over at the crib, it too was empty, Declan in Waterdeep with his sister and parents. He placed the candle on the cake and lit it with a match.

He stared at it. Hours? Seconds? Minutes? ... a lifetime?

"Happy birthday, my love..." he whispered to the air of the empty room. He had perhaps never felt so alone as he slowly fell asleep on the couch, watching the small, still flame of the candle.
Derik Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!!
Headmaster, Bladestone Foundation.
Proprietor, The Last Anchor
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