Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

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The monster flailed out of one its giant legs to force his blades out, he stood there only momentarily defenseless but that was all the time it needed. Laisren did not see it happen but he could feel its razor sharp mandibles pierce through his sides and into the core of him. At that moment he thought of her and he smiled as the beast launched him through the air.......

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He felt the wind's breeze and there standing in front of him was the woman he loved, just as the night they were married, naked and beautiful. The flowers crowning her head were all that kept her hair from flowing before her shining face. The wind was stronger than he remembered but he didn't care, he was too lost within her big green eyes. There was no one else around, just them this time, the way he always wanted it.

She did not say anything but suddenly Laisren realized there were tears within her eyes, as the wind began to pick him up and carry him away. Slowly at first, she held her arms out to grasp his hands but no matter how hard he gripped her and fought the winds, he was being taken away from her.

"Saline!!!!", he yelled while finally their grip broke free and he flew from her fingers.........

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He hit the ground with a sickening thud. Suddenly he could feel there were others rushing around him and he lay there looking across the ground to see his friend Mendel lying nearby. Laisren's eyes grew heavy and his breath came in great heaves. He felt cold and suddenly so very tired. He fought to keep his eyes from closing and then they did..........

On the final day of Marpenoth, when the leafs ceased to fall and started to rot, Deacon met up with the tribe of the Elf Laisren Ua Tiernan. They called themselves En Dharasha Everae. The Destiny of the People. The Elves showed their gratitude to Deacon; for aiding them with both his wards and his gold. In turn they revealed their desire to aid Ebreth and Deacon in restoring the Misty Forest to its former glory. Deacon promised to guide them to his mushroom dwelling which sat by a clearing. Perhaps there, within the clearing, the Elves of En Dharasha Everae could find a new home. Deacon also became friends with the Elves’ Dwarven companion; Durin, whom in turn would befriend Ura.

Their journey took them through Thundar’s Ride and to the Boareskyr Bridge; Between the Misty Forest and Baldur’s Gate. There, by a lonely tower, the Elves decided to set up camp. A ruin from the wondrous days before the Crown Wars. The tower’s ruins and moat made for an excellent basecamp. That very night many decided to scout out the High Moor to the north, while leaving their less able kinsmen at the tower.

Soon though, they would come to regret that decision. For when the Elves and Deacon returned, the camp had been raided and those left behind slaughtered. Orcs proved to be the culprit. A cry for vengeance was brief, for all realized all too well that nothing would be achieved by bloodshed. Wisely they decided to push north again. Through the moor and towards Deacon’s home.

The High Moor would prove surprisingly tranquil. The exodus ran afoul of some eerie and twisted Treants by the marshes. Night Twists. But strengthened by the will of their resolve; even the Treant’s luring songs proved ineffective at swaying the Elves and their tiny compatriot. Deacon swiftly lead the Elves through the treacherous marshes and up a hill that would reveal…

...The Misty Forest.


(to be continued…)

The Misty Forest - how could so much suffering exist in such a beautiful place? Standing guard over his leader with the dwarf Durin and a serious Mendel, Aomir watches as Laisren's condition deteriorates. As Mendel tells the story of how their leader came to be like this it becomes apparent that the three kinsmen are not alone. A faint rustle alerts the ever-vigilent Mendel, and attention is drawn away from the poisoned Laisren to two wood elves. Although they are not pleased by the presence of a dwarf within their forest, it seems they are willing to help. Saline, arriving back at the campsite does her best to ease her husbands pain, but it is near hopeless. Using a series of whistles one of the elves calls a druid, confident that they will be able to cure the fallen Laisren. It is all to no avail though, the elves rig up a stretcher suspended amongst the trees and as Aomir watches they carry him off to their home within the forest. It is clear now that an antidote must be found, for their leader has little time left. They all know what this means, a trip to the most dangerous of places...

While a welcome sight, the Misty Forest was anything but welcoming to the group of travel-weary Elves. Wood Elves descended from the trees; inquiring as to En Dharasha’s reasons for entering the woods. Their bows kept ready and arrows notched as Deacon tried to explain their plight. The Wood Elves reluctantly accepted Deacon’s reasoning and disappeared, leaving the exodus in a small clearing at the very edge of the forest.

Soon after the departure of the Wood Elves the En Dharasha Everae would set up a makeshift camp. But rest was not theirs, as the sound of a hundred steps could be heard from beyond the mist enshrouded trees. Spiders. Dozens of gigantic spiders rushed forth from the dark shadows of the forest. Among them was one humongous arachnid creature. Its legs, easily ten feet long, carried its grey and gluttonous frame low above the ground. Its powerful mandibles would snap and tear at the Elves. But the Elves would not let up.

The beast and its spawn were vanquished after a long and arduous battle. But not before taking its toll. The exodus’ leader, Laisren Ua Tiernan, had been poisoned. Struggling for survival, the body of Tiernan was carried off by the Misty Forest’s Wood Elves, who had finally appeared to take some pity on the exodus of Elves; taken to their village. Through the insights of the group it was revealed that this spider was the result of the Crown Wars. The very event that blighted the forest of the Miyeritar; turning it into the High Moor. Old fireside stories would have it that these spiders were spawned as the tears of a Miyeritar prominent hit the soil of the woodland. After most of the forest had been ruined, the remaining spiders retreated into what was left of the Miyeritar forest; the Misty Forest.

(to be continued…)

He opened his eyes and found himself standing underneath a giant golden tree. He slowly looked around him to see naught but scorched earth. Beyond its canopy, there rained fire from a giant dark sky that fell upon vast wastes beyond. When he turned back to look before him, there she stood......

"Osi?", he said not understanding, his hands involutarily began to tremble and his eyes filled with tears as looked upon this beautiful and young half-elven woman. She was dressed within a beautiful golden gown, her hair a ribboned auburn and her face the color of cream. She stood there smiling at Laisren and he could no longer control his emotions, he ran to her and threw himself at her feet, tears streaming down his face. "Osi, how.....", he began to say but was interupted by the figure, "No, Laisren I am not", it told him. "But....", he again began, yet she simply raised one finger to his lips and silenced him again. "I am but the perception of the one you hold dear", the figure said with a reassuring voice while continuing to smile down at him.

Laisren looked confusedly toward the figure not knowing what to say next. Then he looked around again, "Where, where are we?", he asked the figure. "We are in the place in between your world and the next", the figure told him. Laisren was even more puzzled, it was seemingly more than his concious could take. But then he forced his tears to stop and composed himself, with a furrowed brow he spoke next, "Why, why am I here?", he asked.

"Because you will not let go", the woman responded to him while carassing his face with her hand. He simply looked up into her dark eyes, with every fiber of his being he just wanted to let this moment last forever. Still, something drove him to question this reality further. "Why are you here?", he asked in a complexed tone, the same a child would use when wishing to understand.

The figure smiled warmly down to him and then responded cryptically, "Because you seek an answer". He did not respond but simply stared up at the figure incredulously. The figure then responded to his questioning look and then stated, "Why". It was then that the world around them began to change. There was flashes within the dark sky, light and wonderous images. They were his memories. At first they were blurred and with each new image they became more clear.

They began within his childhood, the first shown the very same face as the figure that stood before him now and he smiled with tears within his eyes. He then saw his father as he played the lute and sang within the hovel they shared in Tethyr. Next, came the terrible images, those that had burned within his concious and as he stared up at them, the smile ran from his face and the same stoic look he wore throughout most of his life returned.

The fire that consumed the face he held dear, the men whom treated him and taught him how to survive the wilderness without code, or honor. The yellow eyed elf was soon standing there staring back down at the pair. Laisren stood suddenly as if in challenge and as quickly as the image had appeared it was gone. The images moved quicker now and seemed to blur the sky. Images of Doron, of elves he once called friends. Then images of a fire nearby a halfling town where other elves sat.

He smiled once more as these faces became clear. There was the image of a strong Wood Elf cutting through enemies, another copper skinned elf grinning before transforming into a great dragon and a white haired elf stumbling through the village stark naked. A smile cracked Laisren lips suddenly. Then came a tower, where elves and dwarves sat around, drinking and telling stories. Finally, the images of great devastation came to the fore and Laisren's smile turned back to a frown as Black Orcs ran like locust over the wood he knew and the tower he had called home.

He began to look down when the final image cast across the sky and he looked up to see her face. "Saline", Laisren whispered and the figure beside him spoke in agreement, "Yes". He saw the last image he had remembered, Saline's face looking down at him and using a cool wet cloth stroke his feverish head. The look upon his face was one of confusion, he could scarce remember where they were, his memory was so vague now. Then the figure next to him spoke, "The elven village" and Laisren hastily turned to regard her. "Yes, that is right, we made it but.....", he began as the figure finished, "your people are not home".

Laisren looked at the figure, a stern look within his eyes, not toward her but toward the answer he had been given. Then suddenly the sky began to contort, the great darkness that began this world broke though the image of his beloved wife and came crashing down now to rattle upon the sanctity of the tree. The darkness seemed as if it were a creature in itself, and screamed as it fell down upon them. Laisren ducked and expected the tree to give way to the weight of the darkness but it held firm.

"If you are ready, I will take you on to the next world", the figure that was his mother asked and he turned to regard her. The figure's smile was gone now as it waited for an answer. The tree above them continued to rattle and soon the very ground beneath their feat began to shake. "This place will not be for long, you must choose", the voice said stoically to him.

Laisren stood there looking back at the figure that was the only one he had wished to see within his next life. She waited for him to respond but he simply shook his head as tears formed back into his eyes. "Very well", the figured said as it began to fade, "you have your answer". Then suddenly she was gone and Laisren stood there and closed his eyes, a tear streamed down his cheek, as the darkness came crashing down upon him...........

Laisren awoke while gasping for air. His lungs burned and his eyes strained against the light as he choked. When his coughing subsided, his eyes re-focused breaking the dark crust that had formed at their corners. There standing in above him was his wife. Saline, with a concerned look upon her face, held him and dabbed a cool cloth across his forehead while smiling down at him.



Laisren was still confused but he felt somehow comforted by her presence. Then he heard a familiar voice speaking and turned his head slowly to see the Lady Luthien, his old friend. Behind her stood near all of Dharaha, figures he struggled to comprehend but could more feel the presence. The room they were in was dark and Laisren did not know it. "Saline, where are we?", he asked.

When she told him, "We are home Laisren, we are in the village of the forest", he was still confused, almost disbelieving. "Please, I must see it", he said and with great effort his wife and friend Dralzar helped him up. His lungs burned his body ached and did not respond to his commands but he still struggled toward the door.




When it opened he stood upon a great platform and saw the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Dozens of feet suspended within the air, held up only by the strength of his loved ones, he looked down upon a living a breathing village of his people. "It tis more beautiful than anything I had ever imagined", he said as tears came to his eyes. He had been told stories of such places by his Mother, but nothing he had ever seen would have ever lead him to believe they were anything more than wondrous stories told to a child.





His wife gently kissed him upon his cheek and his friends gathered around. His pains which had disappeared began to return and his cough began once more. His lungs burned and his legs gave way. He was brought back within the tree cabin and soon laid down. His wife still by his side and all his friends standing round wishing him to health, but he knew better. He was ready, he thought.

His eyes grew weary once more and he fought to stave off what he came to accept as his last slumber. His wife still near, he offered her his last wishes and told her how much he loved her while falling asleep once more within her arms. There he rests still until his body has finally given way for his souls release............

It was time... with Laisren's condition getting worse, they had to go and get this last ingredient even if they werent fully prepared for the trip. Draleon, Durin, Virelaan, Slade, Amarven, Nai, Mendel and the bard Gallawyn were all gathered ready to depart. In the last moment it was decided Durin and Draleon to stay back, just in case. They visited Laisren to see him for what could have been the last time and then they moved hastly from Misty Forrest to Durlags Tower, having to tolerate Gallawyn complaining the whole journey.

// Left to right. Virelaan, Slade, Amarven, Mendel, Nai. Gallawyn far behind trying to catch up


Once outside Durlags everyone in group begun preparations. Since not everyone could hide, Amarven used one of her Sanctuary spells to get past the basilisks with safety. Once inside Durlags, a familiar place to all of them, they made their way quickly towards the Searing tunnels killing every beast and drow raider that stood on their way. Being fully prepared, they moved with safety inside the searing tunnels, avoiding any damage from the heat of the lava. Salamanders and Efreetis pose small resistance for the group.

Once they were near the entrance to Netherese Ruins Mendel went to scout ahead. What he saw was not something he was prepared for. Fire and water elementals, many Efriates and a Balor stood in their way. Thinking to use the narrow passage to their advantage Mendel positioned the archers back, Amarven and Nai were tasked to heal and ward anyone in need and Gallawyn was asked to provide support where he was capable, either in front or back with the archers. Mendel was standing just infront the passage blocking the path of their opponents. The group dealt with the elementals and efreetis and even took the Balor down in a tough battle.

// The fight with the Balor


Once the Balor was defeated the group begun to move towards the entrance thinking that the way was clear, instead more and more Efreetis were coming towards them. The group retreated and decided to use the last sanctuary spell Amarven had available in order to safely enter the ruins. Once inside the ruins Slade's and Virelaan's fire and cold immunities were down so they were told to move back with Gallawyn who desparetly was shouting from the outside that he couldnt get in. Mendel, Nai and Amarven had no idea if the others made it back, but they had to move on. Since no sanctuary spells were left they had to fight their way to the Underdark. They did, up to the point where a Magma golem was blocking their way. Mendel could sneak past it but Nai and Amy couldnt. They decided that they should stay in the safe room and Mendel to try and get to the exit of the Ruins were their contacts were awaiting for them with the antidote.

Mendel moved safely past the Magma golem and after one more jump to shadowplane and back, he was on the final room with the exit insight. Again a giant red demon stood on his way. Once the demon was taken care he moved towards the exit. Just outside their contacts were standing there with the last ingredient at hand. So much were going through his mind that wasnt into much for talking but expressed his gratitude for what both of them had done for Laisren.

// Meeting their contacts with the ingredient at hand


Once he got the ingredient he moved back to where Nai and Amarven were. With their wards down, no available spells and exhausted, they all knew that the way back will be a very difficult challenge. During the way back they got lost, and Amarven was seriously injured and was carried by Nai and Mendel. For much time they were walking around the shadow portals trying to find a familiar path. Once they did though they were attack by a group of Ghost Avengers and Nightwalkers and they fell too.

The fate of their lives was now in the hands of those who stayed behind and their friends and allies...

Whispers and shadows and nothing more. The dark elves moved in the gloomy tunnels and were no more substantial than a mist or a dark cloud. No more than a whisper of a whisper marked their presence. The elf on point signaled a halt and all six melted into the shadows along the wall becoming all but invisible. There was movement ahead. Six sets of ears swiveled and turned to listen. Boots on stone. Perhaps a dozen approached. The leader signaled that they advance, but the second in command hesitated. The sounds were coming fast without slowing. The owners of those footfalls were either very foolish or very certain of themselves. Etiher way, they were dangerous. Sounds of battle ended as soon as they began and the sounds of movement barely stopped. The other four dark elves looked to the second in command and he signaled that they were to stay put. With the swiftness of a snake, he struck at the leader's neck, nearly decapitating the dark elf. Before the body slid to the ground, the other five drow slid into the shadows and were never noted by the large group of surfacers who soon charged through the tunnel.

"Ne'er mind th' deed drow dog. We've work t' be doin lads!" Durin thundered and urged the group onward past the corpse of the drow patrol leader. They continued down the corridor at a run, their shodden boots thundering in the bowels of the ancient fortress that was Durlag's Tower. They encountered one other drow patrol that lacked the prudence of the first and left their dark corpses scattered about the room, barely slowing their charge. Their faces were grim and their movements determined. There was work to be done, and they were to complete it or die.

A white-cowled human name Eden pointed to a great door of oak and steel. "This way. This leads to the Underdark."

The company exchanged glances and took a brief moment to prepare dweomers of protection and defense from the various evils rumored to exist in the tunnels below the tower. The two dwarves at the head of the colum, Revenark Stonehold and Durin Ironfaar pushed the door open and the company rushed through.

Fiery molten rivers assaulted their eyes and their lungs were choked by the smells of brimstone and sulphur. Their wards, cast by powerful divine warriors of the Order of the Silver Rose, held the heat at bay and protected them from harm. They passed through the tunnels quickly, aided by the magic of Eden and a small sprightly fellow known to many of the company and who referred to himself as Deacon.

"This way, this way, Deacon knows the way!" The sprightly figure darted to and fro in the caverns, nimbly sidestepping salamanders and efreeti while the dwarves and knighs cut them down. They crossed a crumbling stone causeway and found themselves face to face with a mighty salamander flanked by sorcerors. The group formed a tight wedge and divided the force. Axe and sword met salamander flesh and claw and soon the creatures were vanquished. Wounds were healed and wards of protection quickly renewed and the mighty company was off again, the diminutive Deacon and confident Eden leading the way.

They entered a shadowy plane of existence through the magic of a spinning orb. Deacon placed his small hands on the sphere and spoke softly and quickly, reciting ancient words of power. The room was engulfed in darkness deeper than the darkest night, a darkness that pulled and tugged at the very hearts and minds of the adventurers. They were falling, falling, falling. Time and space seemed to lose meaning or coherence, then they landed solidly on cold stone and were greeted by shreiking wraiths and tormented spirits. Massive creatures of shadow and mist surrounded them and clawed at their flesh and their souls.

The warriors of the group formed a perimeter and did battle with the creatures. The knights called down mighty magic from their gods and Deacon summoned magical swords and bolts of energy to tear and rend the creatures of darkness. Their enemies were ancient and cunning. Familiar with the ways of men, dwarves, and elves, they fought with uncanny skill causing injury upon painful injury. The company would not be shaken, however. They countered each assault with skill and power, vanquishing their foes one by one until they fell and evaporated and disappeared into the darkness as quickly as they came leaving nothing but silence and a penetrating sense of dread.

"This way, this way, cloud twelve! There it is!" The little figure pointed toward a thick cloud of darkness.

"Into the cloud. It is a portal, it is. Thou must go though the portal after Deacon!"

The sudden exclamation from Deacon caused more than one of the company to jump. Durin farted. Revenark chuckled. Missy held her nose and chastized Durin who shrugged unrepentently. Seth watched the entire affair with the beginning of a half-smile. Perhaps there was hope after all.

The lightheartedness was short lived as disaster struck the party. Cloud twelve teleported them into waist deep water. Waist deep for the humans. The dwarves and Missy the halfling squire were hard pressed to keep their heads above water and Deacon had to paddle like a small water-creature to keep his little head from bobbing under. He sputtered and splashed, trying to lead the party. Dark cloud-portals lined the passage and the current was treacherous. With a shout Gina Wayan, Revenark Stonehold, and Seth Siger disappeared into a tunnel.

"No no! Thou must follow Deacon!"

The sprightly fellow sputtered and splashed as the three disappeared. His words were lost as great creatures of water fell upon the group. Revenark and Durin along with Aaron Lyonaler, a valiant knight of the Silver Rose, kept the creatures at bay long enough for deacon to lead the party to safety. The three warriors rushed into the cloud after their comrades shortly before three more water creatures appeared and charged.

Demoralize, soaked, and freezing the group huddled in a room lit only by a pulsing, wavering portal rimmed in piercing blue light. The seven companions looked to each other, not wanting to break the silence and proclaim the words that must be said. Durin spoke at long lenght.

"Well... d'we go back fer em?"

Another long silence. Seconds grew into minutes.

"Deacon is not sure if Deacon can find them again."

Eden spoke next. "And what if more get lost along the way?"

Everyone agreed, but no one wanted to articulate the fate of their friends. They were lost in these shadowy ruins. Lost without a guide and without hope. Heads and shoulders fell and they slowly made their way toward the portal. Deacon stretched his small fingers toward the shimmering surface when the door burst open behind them. Aaron and Eden readied their weapons while Durin blocked the rest of the party behind his massive shield. Before they could strike, Seth and Gina crashed into their ranks, unable to stop their forward momentum. Revenark was behind them yelling.

"Go go go lads! They be right behind me!"

There was no hesitation. Durin shoved and the others pushed and as one the group lurched through the portal, just out of the reach of dark claws and shadowy fangs.

"Oi! Git yer arse out o' me face!" Durin growled.

"Ow! No biting!" Missy yelped.

"Well.. git yer arseparts out o' me face an' ah'll stop bitin em!"

A few more yelps and bellows followed and the stack of dwarves, humans, and halfing was sorted out. They looked around and found themselves in a dark chamber. It was silent and still. There were no lights save for the glowing runes on Deacons small hat. Gina spoke several words and a light flashed into being above her head. The entire company stopped. There, before them, lay three still forms. Elves.

"There they be!" Durin rushed to the figures and checked them. Coming to the form of a young and delicate female he yelled.

"Oi! She be movin! She be movin!"

Seth rushed to Durin and touched the elf. A soft glow enveloped her form and her many cuts and bruises closed, then disappeared and a breath stirred in her throat. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Nai is.. alive?" She looked at the group in confusion.

Gina laughed and threw her arms around her friend. She sobbed joyously. Nai's eyes soon grew wide.

"Mendel... MENDEL!" She broke free of Gina's grip and ran to another form on the ground. Closer examination revealed it to be Mendel of En Dharasha. His wounds were grave and after conferring, Aaron, Seth, and Eden agreed that he would require skilled treatment in a safe environment. The group fashioned a litter out of several rusted pikes and an old blanked and placed Mendel with several other elves on it. They turned and followed the bobbing head of Deacon as he entered another cloud portal.

The dwarves and humans struggled to carry the fallen elves through the icy waters of the fortress. Great beasts of water clawed at them and tore at their armor and flesh. None of the party passed unscathed and wound after wound was bandaged or healed. Seth was exhausted and only his determination and honor drove him forward. Suddenly, a great wall of water crashed into Seth and Revenark as a huge elemental charged. The two warriors were thrown into a cloud portal and were no more. The others did not see their passing until they had exited the shadowy, otherwordly ruins.

"Oi. Where be Seth?" The question was simple, but struck fear into the hearts of the companions. They had just exited the last shadow portal and recognized the room. They were near the surface. Hope had begun to rise in their chests, but now Seth and Revenark had disappeared again. Looking at one another, seeing each others wounds and how the icy water had sapped the life from their limbs, the companions knew that to return would mean certain doom for them all. They turned and left the accursed ruins, following a quietly sobbing Deacon who was weeping at the loss of his friends.

The patrol was larger this time. Fifteen dark elves and a priestess of Lolth moved effortlessly through the upper tunnels of the underdark. They had heard the footsteps again, and noted the change. They were slow, weary, and tentative. They were weak. Red eyes narrowed in wicked smiles and signals were passed along.

"Move forward. Flank. Ambush."

The patrol broke into three units who moved with orderly ease in unison with the others. They blended with the shadows and lay waiting for their quarry. A dwarf was the first around the bend. Three twangs sounded in the darkness and crossbow bolts found seams in the finely wrought armor. The dwarf bellowed and charged, dropping his shield and grasping his mighty axe in both hands.

"IRONFAAAAR!"

Two drow appeared before him. The first feinted left and the second moved straight in for the kill. Durin was far too exhausted to respond to the feint and charged straight into second drow. Caught off guard, it fell before Durin and found a dwarven blade piercing its chest. The first drow, thinking himself outmaneuvered, moved back to the shadows and flanked the panting dwarf. He had his blade mere feet from Durins unsuspecting neck when a bolt thudded into his leg, and a floating sword began slashing at him. Wounded, the drow danced back and whistled softly. The rest of the patrol attacked then, and the battle was met. Curved blades danced and flashed, blows were traded, and the wounded grunted and fell. Mighty in battle, but weakened by the shadowy ruins, the companions were forced back again and again, their numbers dwindling. Durin went down with a roar as he tackled two drow. A third smote the back of his helm and he lay still. Missy was severly injured when a drow blade pierced her chain shirt and she slid to the floor breathing weakly. Aaron and Eden were the only two standing between their injured comrades and the five remaining drow when a flash of light pierced the darkness. Powerful divine engergy rippled through the cavern and tore at the drow. They were thrown against the walls and lay clutching their eyes, blinded by the bright lights. Aaron and Eden wasted no time and dispatched the disabled dark elves. Turning to the source of the light, they saw Revenark supporting an exhausted Seth Siger, drained and nearly unconscious from calling forth the burst of energy. Revenark took the fallen elves while Eden healed Durin and Missy with what little power he had remaining. The company passed as quickly as they could through the remaining tunnels, through Durlag's tower and out into the light of dawn. They marched steadily, ragged and bleeding, until they saw the gates of gullykin. The sentries spied the group and soon a party of stout halflings came to their aid. The halflings gawked at the greivous wounds as the group made their way to the center of town. Messengers were sent to the elves and dwarves. Priests and healers were summoned and arrangements were made for the wounded travelers. The ten stood looking, mute from exhaustion and pain and only Deacon, the odd sprightly fellow, retained his energy as he scurried around shouting in glee.

"Huzzzzah! Huzzzzah!"

The alliance elves, dwarves and knights return north along the forest passes. Before the village that En Dharasha has been given sanctuary, the wood elves wait. "You may pass", they tell the elves of EDE but hold up their hands to the waiting Dwarves and Knights. When the dwarves and knights simply stand vigil, the wood elves watch them curiously and as the Dharashans pass beyond them, they fade back into the shadows of the forest.

The Dharashans being escorted by the Arch-Druid of the village, the one whom offered their Pro-consul his home and efforts, now begin their inquiry but the Druid simple shakes his head sadly. When they enter the village there could be seen a gathering of people below Menelmen'iilor, ‘The Skyway place'. They looked up with curiosity and parted as the Druid and these foreigners came to climb up to the home within the trees.

As the Druid opened the door, their once tall and proud leader lay barren and alone. His wife could not be found, his breath came in great feints and his blood ran black as oil from putrid and festering wounds. The room smelled of death and the Druid simply looked at the Priestess called Luthien and dropped his eyes in condolence. He shut the door slowly behind him and left the elves of Dharasha to what he could only believe was their friend's last hours.

The room was dark and smelled of decay. He felt a terrible chill and his body trembled involuntarily. He could not open his eyes at first. He did not know where he was, nor how he came to be here. Yet, for the first time since the darkness he began to sense something beyond the it's vast reach. He felt someone's warm embrace. He struggled to open his eyes and there was Saline lying next to him. He remembered everything now but it all seemed so surreal that he did not believe. He simply stared at her.

She looked to him with her hazel eyes filled with tears. He struggled to speak, wanting to know why she was sad and what had happened but she hushed him by mouthing the words "I love you", kissing him upon the forehead and then nodding beyond the bed he lay within. It was then that Laisren noticed a throng of elves who were sitting and kneeling beside the bed. As he looked to each of them, they began to stand. The beautiful Luthien, stalwart Mendel, whimsical Tan and others some of whom Laisren knew, some of which he did not.

They all stared down towards him with a smile and for the first time in his newly blessed life, he felt completely at ease. He knew that no matter what had happened, no matter what should happen, he would not be alone. He knew he would be destined to be with his people from this day hence and he was so very, very proud.........

So, for the first time in their known history, that the wood elf of the Misty Forest came to welcome the other races into their sanctuary. The Dwarven Clan of the Troll Claws, Kraak Helzak and the Knights of the Order of the Silver Rose came, that they might be honored for their friendship, saving many of the elves of En Dharasha Everae in their greatest time of peril. They strode the paths under the watchful eyes of the wood elves but with the warm friendship of their Dharashan friends.

At the end, the still weary and weakened from his ordeal, Pro-consul Laisren Ua Tiernan presented each with a gift and token of friendship. To Durin of the Dwarven Clan, a great dwarven axe was given, the name of their god was spoken as it had been etched upon the stout ironwood handle. To Sir General Uriel, a decorative and beautiful elven plate armor was given that enhances the powers of those divine casters that wear it. To the human cleric Eden, whom headed the call out of personal honor and not alliance, a necklace which radiated a brilliant white whenever the bane of the living were to walk.

Others received gifts as well, well crafted elven court bows, wood elf hunting spears but in the end the greatest gift to be had this day, the gift of friendship............





((If anyone else has screen shots, feel free to post them without need for a write up.
Thanks to all who attended, it really was a nice player event ))

// Just arrived at the village in Misty Forrest. Tara was injured on her way there and the services of Eden were required.


// All gathered at the Dala'Haera were representatives from Kraak Helzak, the Order of the Silver Rose and individuals like Eden were honoured for the rescue mission which saved the lives of many elves.

The day blew a bitter cold, as sleet and snow shot across each elf's eyes. The task before them was gravely important, the mysterious being and their benefactor within the Misty Forest Village had gone missing within the deep snow drifts of the Cloud Peak Hills whilst Hill Giants swarmed the land. Despite his proclivity for lack of concern, the bard Galaywn was surprisingly pensive. It seemed he had taken a liking to this Deacon and while he was there at the time of Deacon's dissapearance, he now moved to round up all available Dharashans in the south.

They gathered, Annicel, Fade, Syren, Elveniel, Amara and Galawyn at the gates leaving the protection of the town of Nashkel. Soon as they were to step forth, huge boulders whistled like bombs toward their party. They scattered at first and then regrouped, Galawyn rushing forward and the many archers stringing volleys that song like a cacophony back toward their assailants. They fought like elves, dancing, parrying, dissapearing within the wilderness and reappearing to flank their enemies. After the first dozen dead giants, they had been bruised but remained strong and resolute, with Elenviel working desperately to patch their wounds so they could fight on.

Then a great throng came forth, hearing their brethren's war cries silenced, the hill giants stampede could be heard well before their silhouettes could be seen through the flurry. The elves braced themselves and took to defense. They fought for their own lives as much as for their friends. They slashed, pierced and cut their way through the initial charge but were terribly scattered. Thanks to their training and patience, they reformed to engage the remnants of the giants now broken charge.

When the last was finally run off, the Druid Archer Anicel knelt down and felt the snow, "There he is!", he did shout toward a small drift underneath the last tree in the hills. The elves quickly picked Deacon up and ran for the town, as the Giants sent yet another wave. Thanks to the help of the Nashkel Gate, they fought the last of the giants off and entered the Village. Amara had sustained a concussion, many were battered and bruised but there they stood triumphant, with their friend safely returned.

They carried his small body to the temple and waited for the priests to perform their work. They gather now and wait to see the fate of their dear little Deacon.


((Awesome player side event guys: Two lvl 18s, one 15, one 12, one 9 and one 6 killed 30 giants without rest, rolled a 32 survival and returned with just one player knocked down. freaking awesome!!! Please post screens if you got them ))

The year is 1338. The Year of the Wanderer. It is in this year that the spritely altruist Deacon encounters a young mage and his even younger apprentice on the Trade Way, north of Baldur’s Gate. The Mage introduces himself as Cyril. His apprentice would be introduced by the name of Icharys.
Cyril the Mage offers Deacon some rations and a part in their friendly company; while they all make their way down south. It is not until they reach the intersection, where the Tradeway goes west into Baldur’s Gate and south toward the Wyrm’s Crossing, that the Mage reveals his true nature and motives. Being before the days that the Radiant Heart had constructed their stronghold - and Saint Merielle’s Orphanage sat by the intersection, the road was ill guarded at this crossing. Overwhelmed, Deacon was seized and taken in a burlap sack. Carried off into the graveyard bordering the crossing. Screaming maniacally, the young Mage revealed himself to be a necromancer, bound to discover the secrets of unlife and Lichdom, with the help of his apprentice.

Deacon remained calm, and made the best out of his stay within the burlap sack. A day and a night slowly passed, until the rope was loosened around the sack. Enough time for Deacon to regain his focus and power.
When taken from his woven prison and placed upon a cold slab, Deacon began to surge in power. Arcane energies ran across his tiny physique, bolstering his resolve and ultimately turning the tide. Before Cyril could take a scalpel to Deacon’s chest, the tiny Deacon jumped up and turned Icharys into stone. Then quickly send a hand of Bigby to smack the scalpel from Cyril’s hand and sending him forcefully into a wall.

Overpowered by the tiny Deacon’s magical prowess, Cyril began to curse Deacon. Being lured in by an act of helpfulness, then trapped to be dissected and turned into a mindless servant, Deacon reached into the darkest regions of the Weave. Their crimes against nature left Deacon no other alternative then to punish them by tapping into his darkest powers. At what may have been Deacon’s darkest hour, shadows and red fluorescant lights rose up from Deacon. Negative energy abound. Turning Cyril into a corporeal-less wraith and Icharys into his skeletal servant. Finding it a suitably ironic punishment, Deacon instructed both the wraith Cyril and the skeleton Icharys to guard the graveyard for little more than an eternity. To this day Icharys the skeleton and Cyril the Wraith may be seen at the Baldur’s Gate graveyard, keeping the rising dead in their graves.

Deacon can also be seen at times, walking amongst the graves with a sad expression on his face. One of regret and sorrow. Sometimes looking up, speaking with with things that are not there to be seen for the common observer.