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 "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
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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 "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
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artemitavik
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Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

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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 "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
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artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

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A bottle of wine and a goblet in hand, Derik would enter his room in the lower reaches of the Last Anchor. Moving the couch, he would recline with a glass of said liquid, watching the fire, and talking out loud as he drinks it.

"You missed an interesting few days, My Strength." He speaks to the flames. "First was Declan's second birthday of course, in Waterdeep. Couldn't have it here because of the damn Aboleth. He was of course absolutely spoiled by grandparents, and spent a huge portion of the afternoon chasing and being chased by Tellae's spoiled dog. A little unsteady in movements maybe a bit, but he's running full tilt when he wants to. We are planning a trip to visit Ronja's family in Secomber. She had a daughter with Talio a very short while ago and I want to meet her. Figured Declan would be awestruck to meet a baby."

The glass empty, he pours himself another, continuing to talk. "We had those negotiations at the Rest today. Far be it from me to stop a fight, but it had gotten straight Garagosian. Scorched earth tactics, targeting non-combatants, the whole mess. Seems some Amnian merc was trying to extend the conflict to make more money else it would have likely settled on its own some time ago. He bewitched the guards somehow before the meeting and they attacked their own leaders. Fortunately, Ronja and Talio are damn quick. Wish you'd have been able to be there though, you'd probably have noticed something off on their auras or something before they struck and we could have avoided the whole mess. At least no more slaughter of each other is going to be done by that pair of adversaries, they signed some trade agreements and are going forth. Hope Tempus isn't too mad at me, but they needed to get their act together for when there are real, honest threats to face as a united front, not just bristling uselessly at each other."

A third glass is poured, finishing off the bottle. It's a sizable goblet. Derik continues to talk. "Came to terms with something a while ago. I know why I'm so angry I think, and I'm working on it. But when you went away, it was... all the other times, the majority of them were on our terms. When we were in that spell, together. Sure, we "lost" but we lost together, in the way of our choosing, so we didn't really lose. This... wasn't that. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be, it wasn't our terms, we didn't go together. I know why I had to stay, but it was supposed to be together, like all the others." He sighs putting the now empty goblet next to the already empty bottle. "Not an amazing epiphany, but at least I'm starting to get a handle on it, right?"

"Gods, I miss you..." He speaks as he lays on the couch now on his side, watching the fire slowly die, for the life of him trying to see in the flames the dancing spirits that Lannia had always watched. At least until his eyes closed. Then he was where he always seemed to be in his dreams... just out of reach of her
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
User avatar
artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

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Derik stared at the waves, then down at the pole in his hand. Fishing. He hadn't done any fishing in well over a year. He used to do it for fun, talk with people. It was relaxing. He lived in a fishing town of course, why wouldn't he fish. Other than he was terrible at it.

A baited hook and a cast. Some time. Nothing. Recast. Nothing. A third time...

And a massive pull and a massive fight, and somehow the first fish he reels in after 18 months is a freaking marlin. Not a huge one. Curious as to why it's so close to shore, but there it is. He shakes his head bemusedly.

Several more hours, a few fish here and there that are worth keeping. At least the Anchor will have some solid fish steaks and such for a while. Last bait, last cast...

Again, a massive hit and yank, and again, after a long fight, another young marlin. He blinked. The last time he had caught two marlin in a single trip to the beach was years ago. It was the day he had met... Brown eyes turned up and down the beach. Nothing. No one. He was alone there. Had been his entire fishing trip.

He laughed, a soft, semi-bitter release of tension. "You... are not funny..." he spoke to whoever was listening.

He went back to the Anchor to get Swabbie and one of the bouncers to help him get the catch back to the Anchor and prepared for cold storage and cooking.
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
User avatar
artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

It was a crisp Autumn day, bright and sunny but a bit of a chill. Derik moved himself to Ulgoth's Beard's graveyard and sat down with a soft sigh on the mossy ground near the tombstone that bore his wife's name.

"Hello Strength." He began, talking to the air as he looked out over the town from his vantage point. "Haven't been by to visit for a while. I brought my lute. Haven't played it for a while either, took me a couple hours to tune it. I know you liked to hear me play even though I am absolutely terrible. I had started working on a song for you some time ago, but things got crazy and I never finished it. As it is, I still haven't so to speak. I mean, I've got the words and all, but I'm not good enough to write the music so I just sorta stole some..."

A strum on the lute as he prepped and got the tone in his ears. "I never sang this for you while you were here, so, I hope you can hear me. Gods, in that stupid ignorant bliss of life I just thought we had so much more time." The tune starts to play, a lilting melody in a minor key of a local folk balad. It is soon accompanied by an untrained but not 100% horrible baritone voice from the warrior.

"There was a time that I believed I had all worth fighting for...
there was a time when some battles were won, and some battles were lost
a time when I thought I needed no more...

There was a time that all changed, when I saw what I found.
There was a time that longing stirred and cried to me out loud.
There were new battles now, both inside and out.
There was a time that I thought it all now was lost.

A time came I believed there was naught to fight for...
But that time has ended, for once and for all...
for I look at you now... and I am ready ... for war."


He played a little bit longer after the last word and set the lute down in his lap. "There you go. Hope you liked it." He sighed as he watched the people of the small hamlet going about their lives. "I know that I am here because I am needed here, that you left to protect from the Veil while I am here to protect on the Prime, I get that. And I know you get tired of hearing it I'm sure, but gods I miss you. And I'm tired. I want to come Home, because Home is with you..."

Another sigh and he just absently start plucking at the lute in some aimless melody now. "I guess I'll just have to wait my turn..."
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
User avatar
artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

OOC: Please note that this entry will possibly contain a fair bit of meta-data, please do not "know" what your character does not

Derik looked over a few of his documents, having just finished his workout and bath afterwards. To say that the last 10-day or so had been "interesting" was an understatement...

It had started with just a little party. Tea and cakes with some friends. Ronja, Talio, Teris, Niyressa, Sirion, Vrok had randomly showed up for whatever reason. Desrah and Alyssia hadn't been able to make it. But just a little time to sit and talk and have a moment because gods, did he need those. Just let the craziness of the Coast swirl around outside, and say thanks to those that had gotten him through the last year plus.

But then the Crazy decided to show up at his door.

It started when there was a pounding on the door. That's when a young man later identified as Devlyn, stumbled in, missing an arm. This was fixed by a regenerate spell but the young man was hysterical. He was the last surviving member of a team that had been escorting a Copper Dragon egg of all things, and had been ambushed by some cultists of the god Null. No one anyone had heard of. And those cultists were now in Ulgoth's.

After a bit of preparation, the cultists were able to be lured out of the town, but in the fight Devlyn got himself killed, likely trying to redeem himself in his own eyes for surviving his fellows.

And all of this was because of Aymerin had sent this expedition, a fellow from Copperglenn who took the failure of the city harder than even Derik had. Apparently... there was an attempt to start over somehow? And established in Faemeet of all places, a spot in the northern High Forest that was, well, where fay meet.

After some time to gather some information, a party set out some days later. Himself, Niy, Ronja, Talio, Teris, Desrah, Vrok and Kevlemer. Teleporting to where Derik knew an elven village to be near Faemeet from his youth, they did not find it, nor Lyd'haera, Derik's old schoolmistress from Copperglenn. The village had been moved and the entire area was swarming with pixies.

This went about as well as one could think and eventually the group got pulled into playing a fae game of "milking a tree" but without squishing any flowers. The tree wasn't particularly fond of this and called Niyressa a pervert. It's fay stuff, don't ask. And so, the game played, information was to be given...

And that information was one of the Pixies was actually an adult copper dragon named Fryxin, who had established the convoy on the Coast for a friend, but had not realized the cultists of Null, a draconic god of death and destruction of all kinds, both benign and violent, had been offended by one of its jests some time earlier, would cause such a ruckus. Aymerin was apparently working for him now.

The dragon knew how to get information on where the egg probably was being held and would impart it to the group as they were already based on the Coast. Once that info was received, they could act, and get the egg back to the parents (which was not Fryxin, again don't ask).

So yeah, the last 10 day or so... oy...
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
User avatar
artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

.... and of course the craziness of this Moon continues...

The cultists having been found, Teris hatched a great scheme to get the group into the door. Trussing Derik up as a prisoner, Niy, Teris, Ronja, Kev, Talio, and Sirion all took tokens of cultist they had taken off bodies of the cultists killed at Ulgoth's earlier. There had apparently been an unrelated incident involving the Radiant Heart against Null-ists some time later so the position was they were converts that had managed to not die via Paladin. This ruse worked mostly thanks to those sigils as well as Niy's diplomacy and Kev's ability to bluff through. The group found the egg and tried to make their move, but were ultimately defeated by numbers. Somehow, Kev convinced them he was still one of them and Sirion was invisible somewhere...

It did all work out in the end though, as the group managed to recover, literally from the alter to the "Chosen One" they thought the egg was... most of the cultists ended up dead and the egg recovered. Niy stayed behind to destroy the temple, and everyone went home.

A week later, the group managed to get back to Fryxin to give the egg back to the parents. But there were none to be found. This was because, as it quickly came out when Mother showed up, that the egg did not belong to Fryxin's neighbors, but Fryxin's... mother. Watching two dragons argue and berate each other was as dangerous as it was ungodly levels of amusing, but all in all, things turned out well.

As well as it could anyways, when people like Ronja and Talio give halucinagenic edibles to pixies and dryads that lair with Fryxin, and you have multiple creatures that can cast illusions at will and are baked out of their minds. That got interesting for sure...

However, egg returned, everyone safe, rewards from the dragon all handed out. Folks dispersed. Niy came by after for a drink and a chat. Afterwards were some hugs and then she left to Neverwinter likely not to return. Ronja and Talio were off further prepping for their imminent departure as well.

Derik just sat in the dark on the bed, sipping wine, watching the embers of the fire burn down with the mixed emotions of satisfaction of a child rescued and crushing loneliness that had become his hallmark of late, a victory that had none to share it with, until he passed to sleep.
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
User avatar
artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

Once again Derik sipped wine and watched the flames of the hearth in his room at the Anchor, contemplating the last month or so.

Upstairs the sounds of the New Year party he had announced to the town were still in some level of swing. He couldn't tell if they were dying down or still going full on, but it wasn't really that important. The people in the town needed a release, so he provided.

Lylan and Adrian were back in the area, so that's good. Bit more of an ability perhaps for the Foundation to keep limping on. Derik suspected they were really only staying because they didn't want Derik to try to run the place alone, despite their assurances otherwise, but it will be what it will be.

A sip of the wine and the flames continued to dance.

There had been no overt movement by the Unseelie in the Cloakwood yet, so this was good. Or they were martialing forces and it was horrible. He hoped fervently that this could be fully avoided. It's just the "wrong war" as it were. The offer was on the table for the Druids and the Dukes to use the Bladestone as neutral ground to work out a compromise, so there was hope there.

Gods, the stupid Aboleth was still out there in the now-mostly frozen waters off the town. For the love of... everyone kept telling him 'plans are in the works' whatever the hell that means. 'Oh, don't worry, it'll get taken care of!" and then silence for weeks and dirty looks if he asked for updates as to what was going on.

Ran across River the other day, who managed to not resign from Darius because she felt unwanted after talking to Nathan and being given a role in some of the projects. That was good. She was making eyes at some elf that Derik didn't know, which made Derik smirk. Hopefully she didn't remain so shy as to have the individual remain oblivious.

Oh! and Lylan and Adrian are engaged, so that's good. People are moving on with lives. This is good. He hated to think it was more than just him stuck in the ruts he was in.

Then there was that feeling... the feeling that something, somewhere nearby was "watching" from the shadows. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe it was whatever Derik and Lannia had never managed to confront those years ago when the sea monsters were around that was back now that Lannia was gone. Maybe it was something that had been waiting to stalk Declan like the entity that Lannia sacrificed herself to fight and now he was the only major barrier left. Maybe it was the Choice he was going to have to eventually make that the Clergy at the Tempus Temple had spoken to him about, like Adelaide when she faced the Night Mother. Maybe Brianna was right and he was just 100% completely insane and imagining everything.

Once again Derik sipped wine and watched the flames of the hearth in his room at the Anchor, contemplating the last month or so. Maybe if he watched hard enough or long enough he would see the spirits that danced... like she used to.
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
User avatar
artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

Huzzah! Another victory. Sort of.

Actually, Derik felt like vomiting.

The Aboleth had been dealt with finally. Getting the blood or whatever it was after from the lich that had been hunting Oth, a group of adventurers were able to contact it. It was a fair bit bigger than most had thought.

Unfortunately, without the mage/lich to give it to devour along with the blood, only half the bargain of getting it to go away was filled. A very long conversation later, multiple options were discussed, mostly having to do with feeding it someone else with knowledge it wanted. Derik, however, was not really willing to take that plan. Sure he had offered to not dispute any pirates it took if it released Ulgoth's Beard, but that wasn't really anything he expected to work. Instead, the agreement was this:

A boat would be provided large enough to take its new disciples away with it. At least the willing ones and the ones that if released would be unrepairedly insane or simply dead. No one like that. Everyone wanted to try to take the "too far gone" as well, but the aboleth was unwavering in that regard.

Fortunately, in the height of winter, most of the deeper sea fishermen berthing at Ulgoth's were in taverns. Derik bought a medium sized fishing trawler for... well more than it was worth, and most of his liquid assets. His town though, his people, he wouldn't ask anyone else to throw in their money. Graham did, the tiefling he'd never met, that was nice, allows him to at least keep the Anchor open a little while to get enough coin from adventuring.

The Aboleth agreed to this ship, the substance returned, and it's willing disciples and the "too far gone" as its price to leave Ulgoth's and not come back while any in the immediate area still lived. Given some elves lived nearby, could be hundreds of years before it came back. If ever. But it was an estimated 50 people. A few from the village, some pirates, adventurers, wandering merchants. 50 people in various states of physical and mental alteration from exposure to the creature that it took when the tide allowed the ship to leave.

His people. His town. His friends.

His utter and complete failure to protect them.

Once more he sat downstairs in his room in the dark, contemplating the situation, fingers laced behind his head as he lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

He felt like he might vomit...
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
User avatar
artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

At the small graveyard near Ulgoth's Beard, Derik Ranloss moved to a particular headstone with a small bundle and sat down leaning against the side of it.

"Hello my Strength." He greeted the air, popping a bottle open of hard cider and filling a cup with it, placing it down on the grass. It is followed by a small cupcake, the kind that Teris the Druid often baked, with a small candle in it that he then lights.

"Happy Birthday. Do they even do that where you are in the Veil? I mean, is time even a thing?" he sighs, then gets out a lute from the bag he was carrying as well, tuning it up. "Figured I'd sing you a birthday song regardless. You always seemed to enjoy that sort of thing despite the fact I can't carry a tune in a bucket..."

And so he did, softly playing out the local little folk tune version of a birthday song, singing along with the plucking of the strings for a few minutes. When he finishes, he blows out the candle on the cake, continuing to pluck at the strings.

"Blew out the candle for you, 'cause you know. Reasons. Hope you made a wish. Hope it was a good one." Strum. Strum. Strum.

"So, we got rid of the Aboleth a while ago. Had to let it take a bunch of the people it had altered and its cult, but it's gone. Everyone is free. To do that we first had to take down the mage that Oth was being hunted by. That was a trick and a half. Was hiding in some undeath semi-plane or pocket plane or something. Oth got some closure, but I don't think he's my friend anymore. That makes me sad. Not sure if Carah is either, or even Nathan to be honest." He shrugs, strumming randomly still, just chord progressions, no actual tune.

"But you know, that's good right? at least it's gone. Ronja and Talio have yet another baby on the way. Should be only a few more months. Moved out to the Moonshaes with the clan. I got all adopted. I visit them out there, and will eventually join them when everything is all said and done. Not sure how long that will take though."

"So, the Lord's Alliance went to war on Darkhold shortly after the Gate made yet more trade agreements with them. Of course, those agreements were making a huge portion of the populace flip out. Not actively fighting in it though. Foundation is prepping to take refugees though."

"When Ronja and Talio left, sold their part of the Foundation and the Rest to Michael Dunn." he chuckles a little "Was a tad bit random, but it was her portion to do with. This of course has not completely sat well with Lylan and Adrian. Trying to make it work though. Meanwhile, Teris is trying to keep the forest nearby from being completely chopped down for farmlands. I mean, there's plenty of place for farms to go without clearing huge swaths of forest, so he makes a good point. Hopefully that works out too. I think it's stalled a little bit, but I'm super proud of him. He's doing great."

A pause in the strumming as Derik looked out over the area. "I'm sorry." He continues. "I've failed you. Failed you in every way. Ronja and Talio took Declan with them, so I failed at being a father to him. It's probably better for him though. Siblings, cousins, big clan. Uncle Derik showing up and being all big and silly." He starts to strum again. "So I failed you there."

"I've tried to let go and move on with... varying levels of not-success. Actually for a couple months, was a girl in the Islands, Amber. Amber Sage. Book-keeper. You'd have liked her. Was hopeful, but the last couple times I showed up the doors to the place were locked up tight, her neighbors hadn't seen her, and she hasn't responded to any sendings. I hope she's alright. But I've failed you at that too... moving on. Letting go. Can't even get another girl to stick around." He chuckles at his own really bad joke. "Gods only know why you did."

"I've failed you at everything else. The Anchor is almost completely muted in the community now, we hardly do anything, if we do anything. At least the Foundation is growing but that's mostly Lylan and Adrian with a little bit of Michael." another pause in the strumming. "You're farther away now when we're running through the forest in the dreams. Not always, but often enough to notice."

"You wanted me to show you I can still roar. I don't know if I can anymore. I'm trying to remember how. Really." He strums a couple more chords then stops, setting the lute down on his lap.

"I miss you so much. Please forgive me and my complete failure for you. I'm trying, but I'm just running out..."

He packs up the lute, slinging the bag, but leaves the cake and mug. "Well, Lylan's at the Anchor cooking something up, so I'd best go get my butt there for dinner before she lynches me for being mopey." he grins. "Eat up. Say hi to Grandpa and Cider for me, huh?"

He kisses his fingers and touches the top of the headstone. "Again... happy birthday."

Staring at the headstone a few more seconds, Derik turns and heads back into town.
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
User avatar
artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

"You are the Crimson Bulwark?" The massive orc called Gumrah the Merciless said as he walked back and forth in an arc before Derik, a bit out of sword's reach.

"I am." Derik replied. Derik was not a small man, 6'6" tall and over 240 pounds of professional athlete, but to look the orc chief in the eye he had to look up a fair bit. The creature was massive, easily out massing him by a third of his own body weight, as heavily armored as Derik was, a shield on his arm and a vicious axe in his hand.

Behind Derik stood Lylan and Niyressa, the trio alone in the chief's throne room. Outside two orc guards to make sure they were not interrupted and down the hall Michael and Hoot tended to and guarded the wounded Throk and Adrian. The women were there to act as his seconds in this duel. The party, originally numbering 11 had fought through what had to have been hundreds of orcs to get to this point through a burning village, ruins beyond that, now a cave. Some had to stop due to wounds that couldn't be fully tended due to no magical healing. Some held the rear flank to make sure the group wasn't being cut off. However, the challenge had been issued. The chief wanted a duel with the group's champion, if the chief won, the party left and the orcs stayed to plague the Coastway and the villages. If the champion won, the orcs left in peace. Other options were to fight their way to the chief and kill him, or fight their way out again. They had no resources left to do either.

Derik wasn't sure if he was the best fighter in the group, but he was in the best position to do this fight, having no great healing skill to get people stable and having suffered no major injuries on the way in. So here he stood.

"For fifteen years I have been chief of this tribe and have not found one worthy to beat me." The creature commented, regarding the man before him.

"We shall find out if your wait is over." Derik replied calmly, holding his ground as the Orc approached closer. Derik's sword's flame flickered and flared brightly for a moment as a wave of anticipation that wasn't his own ran over him. "Warwake says hello." He commented, holding the blade up a bit.

Gumrah looked down at the sword passively, then behind Derik. "Will the two behind you dishonor your memory should you lose and try to slay me?"

Shaking his head Derik replied, "No. They will not." He glanced over his shoulder. "Lylan, should I fall, make sure you get everyone out of here. And you are not to interfere in this no matter what."

The blonde elf did not look thrilled at this.

"If you win, I wish one request" The orc told Derik.

"That is?"

"My axe stays with my tribe when they leave. But if I win, I take your head for trophy. Your friends leave, can have your body, will not be needed!" This was punctuated by a rather vicious laugh.

"It shall be." Derik agreed. Gumrah backed up adjusting his gear with a nod. No more significant words were exchanged. None were needed. The two battleworn warriors squared off.

Without warning the fight commenced. The strength of the orc was immense, well past Derik's own, as was Gumrah's constitution. However, Derik's edge was his technique and versatility in battle and his efficiency of the weary soldier allowed him to keep pace with the fresh threat of the orc chief's axe.

To match Derik's techniques in turn, Gumrah wielded his anger like a weapon, rage fueling blow after blow after blow, raining down on Derik's armor and shield even as Warwake struck time and time again. Both started to tire, but Derik more so.

Beyond Gumrah something else took place. Something only he could see, it seemed. A shimmering and a... hole in the world. He could barely see it, but what he could see he knew: Silhouette of a woman with a bow, hair blowing in the wind trees behind her, a massive wolf well beyond the size of a dire-wolf standing next to her. Her free hand extended. "Come..." A voice in on the wind.

Lannia and Naq'pote her companion. In the Veil. Waiting. Waiting for him.

"No. Not yet. Please..." he spoke to himself, continuing to fight. The people behind him needed him to win. The villagers in the area needed him to win. "Not yet. I'm sorry...."

"Then fight my Warrior. Fight and win. Be the Bulwark. Stand in the middle."

Blades clashed on shields, potions were consumed on both sides, Derik's wands for wards were used despite the danger of magic backfiring. The fight continued. The shimmering started to solidify. He was closer. He was losing, but if he did he would go to her. He would go home.

Gods, he wanted to go home.

Cheering from Niy and Lylan, which had been constant the entire fight caught his peripheral attention. "Not yet. I'm sorry, but please not yet." He couldn't. Home was not for him. Not here, not now.

Finally, somehow, Warwake found its mark, slicing through the orc's armor, the flesh parting before the Sword of War like soft butter, to the point the tip protruded from the back several inches.

"You... were worthy." Gumrah managed, blood coming up from his lips that were oddly in a smile. The axe fell from his hand and he dropped like a ragdoll, the weight causing Derik to take a knee or lose hold of his weapon. He withdrew Warwake from the body of the toughest opponent he had ever dueled in his life with a sizzling sleeerk sound. Using it and his shield to hold himself up he looked into the shimmering portal. She was so clear now. So close. He could smell her hair.

"I'm sorry my Strength. Not yet. Not now. I can't go with you... forgive me." he spoke to the apparition.

"My Warrior," Lannia's gentle voice lilted. "There is nothing to forgive. I will never hold anger to you for choosing Life, especially when it is to protect others. Remember how to Roar..." And with another shimmer the vision was gone. Cold, dark stone and a dead orc was all Derik could see.

Looking down Derik reached over and closed the eyes of the dead chief. "Go to your god when you can in strength and victory." He spoke to it, picking up the dropped axe and taking it to the throne. Lylan and Niy, meanwhile, were cheering in victory.

The rest of the trip as it concluded was a bit of a blur. First, everything hurt. Absolutely everything. No survivors were found, they had all been butchered, but the orcs left the Coastway as agreed. The wounded were stabilized and taken to various infirmaries. It was Lylan's birthday so he gave her the decorative warbeads of the Orc Chief... and then he went to the Anchor.

Gods he was tired. He wanted to go home. But not now, not yet. Things to do.

First thing: Sleep.
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
User avatar
artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

The fight on the bridge was intense. Some sort of powerful being fighting three skilled adventurers... a being that would later become clear was the avatar of Bhaal, lord of Murder.

Against his better judgement, Derik had gone across the fire line. Sean had done so and was quickly sent back reeling, heavily wounded, but the advantage the three had been using to strike at Bhaal was now gone, so he had to try.

And it wasn't going to bad really. Wasn't making headway but Bhaal had been fought to a standstill. The summoned creatures, hydra and manticores, to keep the other adventurers at bay at the bridge edge were doing their job, but Derik was already past them and engaged in the fight.

Well, it was going well until the Bhaalite priestess showed up and sacrificed her life essence to empower him. Where ever she came from and whoever she was... But the effect was instant. Bhaal literally punched through Derik's defenses, grabbed his arm and yanked back...

----------

Eyes opened. Sound of running water, but not the same as the bridge he was on. He looked left and right. Grass. No, that's not right. Was it grass? Looked like grass, mostly... shimmered... wasn't right. Color was a bit off. Sitting up, Derik saw a pool and a waterfall, a book exiting to his right. But again, shimmering, translucent, like it was there but not. He could see a cave behind the waterfall.

Wasn't right, this is not where he was just now. "Am I dead...?" he asked himself and the apparently empty glade outloud.

"Not yet, Consort of the Seer." a gruff voice answered from immediately behind. Derik jumped up and swiveled, now face to face with a beyond massive wolf. He blinked.

"Cider."

"Derik."

"If I'm not dead, why am I here? How am I here? Where is here?"

The wolf laid down, resting head on its paws. It still was nearly as tall as a normal man that way. "Your instincts are correct, this is the Veil, or rather part of it. A part that is perceptible to those in deep sleep or near death, and you are both. The Seer has sent me to here to make sure you are not disrupted as you choose."

"Choose what?"

"To return, or to stay." Naq'pote replied. "Though, you know, she knows, and I know it is not yet your time to join the Seer."

"Show her to me." Derik said flatly. The wolf spirit of the hunt eyed him.

"That is not a good..."

"Show her to me!"

Naq'pote sighed and stood. "Very well, come" And the creature turned to walk. Derik followed, but neither of them moved. Rather the surroundings moved around them, faster and faster, in a blur, till who knows how much distance had been crossed in the Realm of Dreams.

And there she was. Lannia Tannen, adorned in green, wild red hair flowing in a breeze, bow in her hand, blue eyes glowing against the background, her shapely formed covered in blood...

... wait, what...?

It was then Derik was able to perceive the rest of the Dreamscape. Arrows flew from her bow, striking dark shapes lurking at the edge of vision, sprites danced around her, biting and clawing at similar forms that encroached. A massive lion, the spirit form of her Grandfather, ran back and forth, tearing the shadows to pieces. With a single step, Derik was next to her, but still far away at the same time. As he moved forward, he could hear Cider's voice, "no! Wait...!"

The battle froze. All players on the field now looked at the newcomer as Cider moved to flank Lannia's form. An eerie laughter echoed from the dark as his wife's soft voice could be heard as a whisper at his ear, but faint like a show from across a chasm. "My Warrior, you should not be here yet..."

"So, Seer," the voice boomed, a massive, shapeless form slithering and flowing about at the edge of perception. "This is the Consort and Mate of which you wait? This is the creature that will strengthen you to defeat me? This... pathetic bag of wasted space and energy will break our stalemate?" the voice laughs again. "It cannot even break its own mind's stalemate..."

"Come, see what I can and cannot do..." Derik spit threateningly. Though he could hear Lannia's voice, it was muffled and he couldn't make it out.

The form looped shapeless above him, close. So close. With a snarl Derik reached behind him to where Warwake's hilt would be. He grasped it, pulled, and... nothing. Nothing happened. His hand passed through it as if it wasn't there. Warwake was denied to him.

The creature took his moment of confusion to strike, knocking him back a great distance with an ethereal tendril. How far he flew, only the Dream Lords know, but he pushed himself from the ground, brushing moss and leaves from himself. Once more the Nameless Form loomed and struck, again, sending Derik flying, but not as far, and this time Derik landed in a roll and a crouch. He was gathering his bearings. It rushed him and struck again, and missed as he dodged to the side. And again. And again. Derik studied his opponent, and his opponent studied him.

"Impressive, for a weakling fool." It taunted. "You have at least mastered your fear, and your mind is clear to act. But you make a miscalculation. The Seer, who holds me here as I hold her, now is vulnerable. Her concern for you has caused her defenses to drop!" And it vanished with a cackle. Derik was alone in the middle of the Veil.

".... no..." Derik hissed under his breath and ran. At first, he got nowhere, then slowly remembered how to travel in the Land of Dreams and soon the world flew by faster than any bird could travel. He sought landmarks, familiar places that could take him back to the battle.

A sound. A howl of a wolf. A twang of a bow.

There.

He altered course and soon was coming up on the fight. The form of the Nameless was, with its minions, breaking through the line of sprites, closing in on the trio of Lannia, her Grandfather, and the Wolf. Until that is now.

An inhuman growl and snarl tears from Derik's lips as he slides to a stop between them. A blade leaps into his hands, not Warwake, but his Cold Iron sword he calls Marching Orders, manifesting by his willpower alone. With the feral snarl of an animal protecting its mate, the blade whistled through the air, biting deep into the Nameless, causing it to give pause with a hiss of its own, grey smoke pouring from the cut for a few seconds before it sealed.

"Well, interesting." It commented the onslaught halted, what could be taken as eyes regarding the man before it.

"You'll find the Warrior is perfectly adept and experience in the Dreamscape." Lannia's voice echoed behind him. "And if he can do this now, when it is his time to join, imagine how easily we combined will scatter you across all of reality..."

"Indeed. This bears... observation."

And it was gone. And they were in the glade.

"I can't stay, can I?"

"No my love, it's not time. If you were to stay before you are ready, the battle would be lost."

"But, I want to stay... I want... to, I want to just..." He hadn't turned around to look at her. He couldn't move. She kept him from it. If he seen her this close, he'd never go.

"I know my Warrior. I want it to. But you've things left undone..."

"Listen my Son." Grandfather's voice is suddenly heard. "listen, the one with golden hair who sees you as Father begs your return. She needs you as much as you need the Seer. It is not time, you know this to be true.

"I know..."

"It's time to return, Consort of the Seer." He could hear the Wolf's voice. They were getting fainter. "... It's time to finish what you have started..."

"I love you."

"I love you more..."

-------------

Derik's eyes snap open. Cold, grey stone ceiling. Pain. A great deal of pain.... Everywhere....

((to be continued in RP in game))
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
User avatar
artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

Derik turned the amulet around in his hand a bit. As the voice said in the sky and the magic users were all confirming, gods were back where they were "supposed" to be and magic was working again without issue. This is good, things were going nuts. Even animals that were vanished have come back, crops suddenly regrown, all sorts of things.

A few days before this, his arm and wounds had been restored via some risky Draconic magic, but it had at least allowed him to participate in the defense of Doron Amar against the Green Dragon warlock thing and the orc horde. Lylan's siege defenses had worked spectacularly and saved a great many lives, and the lines had held well. He was very proud of her.

Things were "normalizing" for the most part. Niy was back at it with the mages to get her mage school portion of the Foundation up, the Escape Path for mages fleeing Amn was still functioning. Even the Darkhold Zhents were getting into it now.

The amulet was threaded through his fingers like a coin. It was a moment he had been looking for and dreading at the same time. It was time, now that magic devices worked right, to check in on a few people that he'd not been able to reach during the last few months.

Raising the sending amulet to his lips, sitting in his office, he spoke softly...
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
User avatar
artemitavik
Posts: 1050
Joined: Sat Sep 24, 2016 10:22 pm

Re: Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

Unread post by artemitavik »

.... After a few moments the reply was received. Derik sat in his chair and looked at the amulet. Shoulders dropped a little. The reply had been lackluster and distant at best.

Another person he had failed. Even with the sending magics unreliable and the ship routes with the weather treacherous, he should have found a way. Made a way to help. To support and be there. But again, not enough.

It was never enough.

Standing, Derik put the amulet away and went about his responsibilities around the facility.
Derik "Crimson Bulwark" Ranloss: Thugging for GREAT JUSTICE!!! (yes, I know he doesn't wear red)
Headmaster:Bladestone Foundation.
Owner:The Last Anchor

Braithreachas Leomhainn
"My purpose is to shed blood for those who can't, and to bleed for those who shouldn't."
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