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

Laisren walks the paths of the small village watching all that transpired. The tension of his youth and the troubles of his adulthood seem to fade as he watched the newcomers of Dharasha look on in wonder at the beauty of the village. They come from so many different lands, places and cultures but all recognize the peace and tranquility this village offers. So many of Tel'quessir have been troubled over the recent decade and now they, just like he, had found a place of Sanctuary.

It made him at ease, without reservation, nor concern. The burdens of leadership and responsibility to see the followers of Dharasha to safety seem to have finally evaporated from upon his shoulders. Laisren turned his cowled head as he felt a slight tug upon his cloak. There stood a little wood elven girl, holding a stick the children here used to play games of hurling. She simply stared upon Laisren's terribly scared face, his right eye having been turned to glass by the curse of Lloth. Most of the native villagers were uneasy to view what lay beneath his cowl.

Yet, the little girl stood there with a warm smile upon her face. She turned to her other playmates whom slowly backed away in awe of her, or perhaps fear of Laisren. "See....", she said in elven, "he is kind, no need to be afraid", she told her friends and they slowly crept back toward him. They simply reached out to touch him and the little girl took Laisren's hand and walked him toward the field where they played. The little girl had found a new friend but what she gave Laisren was much greater.

She gave Laisren back a piece of his childhood that he never had, as he played for hours with the children. Laisren had finally found peace here and with it, his soul had been saved from the anger and resentment of his youth. He wondered if this was the blessing of the village, or that of the children? He would honor both for as long as he would live, that he knew was his Dharasha and he was happy.......

Laisren watched from a distance, his arms folded and leaning upon a wooden totem. He watched the one he loved become more than just a woman, she was becoming a symbol. A symbol of hope and inspiration to her people and to herself. He watched as with each passing day she seemed to grow stronger, more fierce, more independent. All the reasons why she had left this God's forsaken land and come to find him. She was changing for the better.

A slight twinge of despair began to sink deep within his heart and he looked down to the cold damp marsh beneath his feet. Yet, for the first time since his arrival, he felt the sun's warm rays rain down through the fog to light the lichen into a beautiful fluorescent green beneath his dark boots. There was still life within this land, there was still hope, he thought. He looked back up to Saline as she was giving lessons to the children and being taken into confidence of their leaders.

Laisren smiled a sad smile. He would leave soon to return to the place they called home but he would not tell Saline, she was too busy helping give hope and bringing comfort to these people. She was becoming as the lichen, ingrained and necessary not just for the survival of this once proud place but as their sign of hope, to remind these people that there remains a once proud land here, that this land is worth fighting for.

She was needed here but he was not. So, when the morning would come, he would set off for the summons of the Misty Forest Elders. He turned and walked away while she was still busy passing out bread to the hungry. His soul had been nourished back to health by this woman, how could he be so selfish as to deny these people her grace, in their time of need................

Night came once more, as he moved slowly back into the camp of Wild Elves. It had been a fort night before his return but so very much had changed since that time. He remained hidden from sight, as the wild ones gathered by the hearth of their central fire to eat and hear the stories of their elders.

She was with them, smiling and laughing amongst her kin. Laisren's heart leaped at the sight. His thoughts had been racing, trying to fathom the depths of all that had happened and the great despair that set upon him was suddenly washed away with the sight of her joy. He didn't know how he would approach her? He wondered if she was even thinking of him, but then he saw the concerned look, as she looked off into the distance behind her.

A tear filled his eye and he smiled despite her sudden despair, for he knew that she was thinking of him in that moment. He wanted to move out of the shadows and go to her but he remained where he stood. His thoughts were pained, conflicted, full of remorse and although he knew that simply by going to this woman he loved that she could take it all away but still he remained a shadow within the fire's light.

Then the fire did begin to die and the wild ones moved toward their mud huts and tents seemingly in unison, leaving Saline alone. She moved slowly back toward the tent they had shared. He watched as she entered and the light he knew to be a small fire for her tea kettle began to emanate her silhouette. She was so beautiful he thought to himself. His heart ached and his muscles seemed to numb as he watched her slowly undress.

He knew it was not the right thing to do, he knew that it would only complicate things but he could not control himself. This was greater than any cause, than any struggle and his heart would not allow his thoughts to control what he would do next. He silently entered the tent and saw her naked kneeling before the small fire, patiently waiting for the kettle. She was so patient he thought, she was so beautiful.

Suddenly, her ears perked and she half turned, "Laisren?", she asked. Her voice sounded full of doubt, as if she had asked this question before each time she had felt the a moor's cool breeze blow, only to be let down with the sound of silence. This time she would receive a response.

"My love....", Laisren said in a tone that was both sad and sweet. She stood and turned to see him standing in the entrance. She began to ask, "Are you....", but before she could answer he quickly closed the gap between them taking him into his arms. Looking into her large hazel eyes, he kissed her passionately, as she began to unstrap his leather jerkin. They laid down beside the kettle as the pot began to whistle but it did not stop for sometime, until all the water turned to steam.

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They laid next to each other, caressing and smiling at each other when it was over. Not a word was spoken until Saline lazily began to ask, "What had happen......" but before she could finish Laisren put a finger gently to her lips. His crystal blue eye looked into hers, it's sad expression did not match the smile he gave her and she looked at him puzzled.

"My love, you look tired and in need of reverie", he spoke to her. "I have been so busy but I have missed you...", she replied looking back and forth across his face trying to read his thoughts. It was perhaps the first time since they had met, she seemed unable to connect to him. "I am here now my love", he began, then finished while stroking his fingers across her eyelids and kissing her gently upon her forehead, "rest now".

He continued caress her eyes until her breaths became long and rhythmic. The sky to the east had begun to turn from pitch black, to a bluish glow and he knew that the morning had come. He stood, dressed and gathered his belongings from the tent silently. He placed a note where he had lay and looked at Saline. Tears filled his eye and he bent over to place a gentle kiss upon her forehead.

Saline began to stir, as she felt the moistness from his tears upon her forehead. "Shh, rest my love", he whispered in her ear and stroked her cheek. He watched her eyes flutter falling back into reverie and then the moment he feared more than any other in his life was upon him. He did not hesitate, he stood and moved for the flap in the tent. He looked back one last time to see her naked figure, her beautiful auburn hair falling across the curves of her body and the serenity upon her face.

He slid out of the tent and moved briskly for the orange hue which was now rising from the east. He did not stop, or look back as the village as it began to shrink behind him in the distance and the burning globe rose over the eastern horizon to cast his shadow over the moor. The tears within his eyes began to dry as he stared into it's light. His pace quickened and his strides became more resolute.

As he reached the horizon and the sun's light began to overtake his shadow, he whispered to himself "Gods willing......"

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Saline woke to the warmth of the sun's light radiating in through the tent. She looked for Laisren but instead found the note he had left. It was written within his hand writing and said, ".......I will see you again".

"Hello brother, it has been some time" the moon elf with the woad dye tattoo upon his face said to Laisren. "You remember me?" Laisren replied. "Oh yes, one would not forget the understudy of Elundir so readily" the elf replied with a sly smile. "Tell me, where is Elundir now?" he continued, staring directly into Laisren's eyes waiting anxiously for the reply.

It was summer, but the heat and humidity that lined the valleys outside the hills had seemed to dissapate into a cool breeze atop them. They stood in a graveyard, one which centered this particular hill. The elves of this land, the last true community of elves in a continent which was once theirs, venerated this cemetary as possibly the last resting place of their corporal bodies on this continent.

"He has gone" Laisren told the elf standing before him and watched the man's face twist from a smile into a terrible frown. The elf then stepped slowly around Laisren, looking out across the settlement. Laisren's feelings turned from welcome to a sudden great unease as he heard the man reply, "I am sorry to hear that......"

Laisren turned to look at the man as he finished, "for you!" and it was then that Laisren felt the the sharp sting of a point enter his neck. He attemped to whirl around on his assailant but suddenly his legs and whole body gave out from underneath him. He heard the sound of his head crack against the cobblestone beneath him but could not feel its pain.

"Do not worry brother Laisren, we are not done with you yet," he heard the voice of the tattoo'd man speaking, though he struggled to concentrate. His eyes began to grow heavy as he heard footsteps around him and then suddenly he was lifted into the air, being carried. Laisren's head rolled back and all he could see were the feet of the elves carrying him.

The last thing he heard was the tattoo'd man say, "You're going to have more to answer for than this......" and then his eye lids closed for the last time.................

Laisren found himself standing alone in the dark of night, within a vast field of tall savannah grass, blowing in the same cool breeze he felt atop the hill. There was a single light that emanated from the heavens, a full harvest moon with its cratered surface and tears which shown a brilliant white. He looked around slowly trying to approximate where he was and although it seemed somewhat familiar, it was unlike anyplace he had seen before. As he turned around, he saw a pair of dark towers protruding from the ground, eloquent in their design and seemingly as organic as the nature around them.

He stared perplexed at the twin designs for a time until he heard a woman's voice call out from behind him, "Beautiful, aren't they?" He whirled back around but where there was once nothing, there now stood a large, dark and leafless oak tree though he could not see the origin of the voice. His eyes scanned all around and then suddenly a single beam of the moon's light rest beside the tree where a woman stepped forth from around it.

All at once, Laisren recognized the woman same as he did the tree. It was the image of his mother, the same that had come to him once before but this time she somehow looked different. She wore a beautiful gown of shimmering silver silk, where she place her hand upon the dark tree, the bark lit in a silvery glow and she smiled sparklingly towards him. This made him instantly happy, piercing his fickle nature and placating his walled exterior as he smiled back in return.

"Yes, it tis" he replied to her as he began to walk toward the tree. "It takes quite an imagination to dream such things, you know Laisren?" the woman playfully said to him, putting her hand out to be taken. Laisren seemed dazed and slightly confused by the gesture. "Why have you come back...." he began and then finished, "to show me this?". "Oh, Laisren, ever are the serious one aren't you?", she chided. "Now, are you going to take my hand or not?" she coyfully responded. Before he could answer she retorted, "Your mother did show you how to dance, did she not?"

Laisren still stood there perplexed, attempting to take in the entire scene in order to offer the proper response but something seemed to cloud his mind and confuse him. "Oh Laisren, you really must learn how to let go..... " the woman reproached him with a mock frown. Then shes stepped elegantly round the tree and out of Laisren's sight, and so disappeared the ray of light. His heart immediately lept and he cried out "Wait.....!"

Before he could finish he felt a tap upon his shoulder and there she stood beside him. Only she did not wear the same face, her features were more sharp, her skin no longer the color of cream but that of deep olive, her narrow blue eyes now round and hazel. He looked to her with disbelief, "Saline?" he asked. She laughed, "Isn't this what you wanted? Now are you going to dance with me, or must I dance by myself?" she admonished whimsically while putting Saline's hard and calloused hand out toward him.

Laisren, still perplexed, managed a smile, took her hand and they began to slowly dance, turning beneath the moonlight. He felt and heard the breeze whisper and swirl around him as he remained intent on focusing upon Saline's face with their beautiful features. Although there was no music they glided effortlessly across the moor in step to some unheard rhythm, and he could tell it was she who was leading him though he followed effortlessly. To Laisren, at that moment, it seemed as if the whole of the world had dissipated and all that was left was the two of them.

He was truly happy, though suddenly his inebriation began to wane and his concentration upon Saline was broken when he saw the globe of the sun begin to rise from off in the distance. As they twirled he continued to look off into the distance and the woman seeing this gently took him by the chin and refocused him back upon her. He unconsciously fought it, desperate to see the strange emanation of this globe of fire that burned in the dark, but gave no light. She then whispered to him, "You must learn to let go, Laisren."

He turned back to face her and saw that the smile upon her face was gone, replaced with one of concern. "I don't understand..." he replied, hoping that she would explain. "But you do...." she said with pleading eyes, "you do understand?" He fought hard against himself but his concerns grew and finally he tore himself from her gaze to find that the fire was indeed growing, moving toward them through the dark just as he had feared.

He turned worriedly toward Saline but she simply shrugged as she continued to lead him on, dancing as the fire grew to consume the fields beyond them. "It seems the drug is wearing off, what a shame" she said with a wry smirk. "What dru....", he began but she pursed her lips at him as if to say shhhhhh.... She then locked her eyes directly onto his, "You asked why I am here?" she said. "Yes", he replied obediently, somehow being mesmorized back into her twilight.

"That one beyond, he is such a fickle fellow," she began while nodding her head in the direction of the burning inferno, and then finished "he does not wish to let you go". Laisren began to give her a confused look, but she continued "That is why I am here." The roaring of the fire could be heard engulfing the grass as it grew near and Laisren's expression grew more perplexed, "I don't understand." Abruptly, she stopped dancing to stand before the tree and beyond that, the oncoming fire. He could feel the rough edges of her palms, where she had to hold the edges of her bow and string, as he longingly traced his fingers over them.

His trance breaking with the awareness of the oncoming flames, his gaze darted up to hers. "You must go!" he begged trying to take hold of her hands and draw her away. "No, Laisren," she said resolutely with a gentle smile, and held firm. Laisren turned to look back to her but before he could plead she spoke to him, "One day you may bring light to the Dark but you must not let the darkness first extinguish your light and in order to do this......."

The great inferno now grew to encompass all the world beyond them and the woman soon became a silhouette within its light. Laisren, for whatever reason, remained calm as he looked into the woman's eyes, which seemed to glimmer, the last aspect he could decipher. As the fire overcame, roared over and consumed the great tree, he looked to the woman for his answer. Just then she leaned over and whispered into his ear, "You must learn to let go." Then she let go his hands and fell back into the waiting flames.

Laisren did not fight her but rather stood there silently for but a moment, as he watched the woman he loved be consumed once more. He did not cry out, nor did he try to stop her. As he felt the tremendous heat begin to singe his face, he closed his eyes and whispered, "Goodbye my love......". Before he sensed the skin and flesh peel away from his being, returning him from wence he came, he understood...........

Suddenly there was a loud crack within the distance, as if he were in a tunnel. When he opened his eye, strangely it seemed the light around him began to recede but still the racking pain remained. A terrible throbbing wrung in the center of his face and it seems to to draw his senses back within his body, as if being pulled back into some dark mask. The infinite light around the mask moving out of his view, he began to peer through the mask's single slit, where his right eye would be.

He saw a pooling red liquid upon a dark moldy cobblestone. Always there was the pain that seemed to beat with a pulse. "Wake UP!!!", he heard the one voice yell and then another. "Saeval!!", the other shrill voice said as he began to regain his senses. Laisren's, head jerked up though he could not feel his limbs which at that moment seemed lost to him. He looked between them, seeing each still remained but were clamped in iron, hanging his body from some moldy stone wall, from which water seemed to drip slowly. Then, he began to feel the sores where the metal met the skin upon his wrists.

Then the pulse beat and he grit his teeth in pain, though he did not cry out. "See Saeval, you wound our guest...", he heard the second man's same sharp and penetrating voice say. "This is no way to treat our kin", the voice finished. Laisren regained his composure and looked up to see several dark figures standing before him. He saw the same woad tattooed elf standing naught but a few paces from him, glaring malevolently at him, the same red liquid pooling on the ground was dripping from one of his gloved fists. Laisren returned the gaze in kind before the next blinding pulse beat causing him to loose his concentration on the man.

The voice spoke again and this time Laisren saw a hooded figure step out from around the tattooed elf. It's bearing was diminutive and slight but there was no questioning that this being commanded the others as he seemed to glide toward Laisren. All Laisren could see was the being's mouth, bluish lips and nearly translucent white skin. It stepped before him, so that all he could see was it's dark face and slight pale grin.

"I am sorry for my associate Laisren", the being said while turning to look at tattooed elf. Then it turned back to regard Laisren once more. "You have to understand, he is still new to this, at least by my standards", the mouth said with a wry grin, mouth full of yellow rotting teeth. "Still, there is a terribly important matter that must be addressed and I trust that you will in fact provide me with the answer, won't you my dear boy", the voice said with a sense of concern that while condescending, seemed to carry some sense of credulity.

Laisren's mind began to race trying to remember, as he began to think what this being was after. Then his own abduction came back to him and the question asked him prior. "He is gone I told you....", though his own voice sounded weak he continued, "south". The figure closed it's lips and regarded Laisren a moment. Then it spoke once more, "And, just why would he do this dear boy?"

"He was going to research the blades I carry.....", Laisren began to say before he caught his own error. "You mean these....", the voice said as it turned and motioned a pale hand toward a table just steps away. "Yes, those...", Laisren responded in a quiet tone. "Quite remarkable blades they are.....", the being said as it began to glide towards them. Laisren began to shake his head, "No, you shouldn't...." but before he could finish the dark cowled figure drew forth one of the blades from it's scabbard and with it's back turned to Laisren began to look at the blade within a dim glow of light that seemed to emanate from cracks in the ceiling.

"Now, now.... no need for your concern", the voice said with mild amusement. "I am far beyond such concerns, I assure you", it said in a dry and confident tone before sheathing the blade and resting it back upon the table. It then turned to glide back before Laisren. "Do you know why I show such concern?", the voice asked him. Laisren shook his head, no, as he continued to peer with his one good eye into the dark shadow of it's cowl.

"I like you boy, but I liked Elundir much better....", it began to say before trailing off. "Once.....", it finished. The being began to glide down the wall away from the other men which suddenly left Laisren feeling much more vulnerable. "Why are you telling him this?!?", the tattooed man asked with a great exclamation. The cowled one turned back toward the other, "Because, one way, or the other, it doesn't matter....", it said callously then continued, "and you seemed to be at a crossroads in your own methods, no?".

The other elf shrank from this, as if deferring to the cloaked figure. Then the figure continued as if never having been interrupted, "I was the one who found Elundir, just as he found you, some centuries ago". "I found him, one of the proud N'Vaelahrn from a great family of Cormanthor, a family led to ruin during the fall of Myth Drannor", it said in some reminiscent tone. "Shame that was.....", the voice said callously then finished, "still, we are not to be finished there and such was his own great endeavor to return glory to his family's former home and in-order to do this well,.......he needed me". The figure turned toward Laisren and seemed to peer at him from the distance.

"So, I did my part to train him and bring him into the fold of those others like minded, the strong, the willing and the powerful", the voice continued. "In return, he acted his part upon my behalf and that of my brethren, upon which his travels led him to you", the figure glided back toward him and began to place it's pale hand upon his face. The figure suddenly recoiled it's icy fingers from Laisren's face as if suddenly shocked. "Interesting.....what poison did you give him Saeval to make his skin burn this way?", it asked. "Naught but a sleeping agent, same the damned use", Saeval replied while spitting on the ground.

"Hmm, does not matter.....", the voice said continuing to stare at Laisren. "So, you see he is much to me, as you are to him but save for one particular issue", he said as it leaned in close. "His duty to me is not done......", it now said in a hushed tone that Laisren could see the other men strained to hear. "Where is he, is he in Cormanthor.....do not lie to me boy?!?", the figure spoke with a restrained malevolence.

Laisren just looked into the beings face, watching it's lips quiver in anger. He did not answer right away, enjoying this one brief moment being in control. "I told you, he had gone south, into Amn and have not seen him since", Laisren finally replied in a similar hushed tone. The being simply looked to him for but a moment longer, "Very well then....", it said as it turned toward the other elves and nodded. They began to move toward him and Laisren figured what was to come next, offering a silent prayer to the great fire to find him and purge him from this place.

Then suddenly the cowled figure, back turned, lifted up a pale hand to speak, "Why did you not come to us before Laisren, bastard boy of the Moonshae people". Laisren felt a swell of anger over come him, "Because he told me to finish my mission...", he growled toward them. The cowled figure slowly peered around, the light finally catching his milky white eyes. "Which was....", the shrill voice asked.

Laisren began to shout a response but stopped to peer malevolently toward the being before saying through angry gritted teeth, "To protect my people....". The figure glided quickly back before him, this time grabbing chained elf by the jaw with his cold bare hands as he stared at Laisren. Laisren wanted to spit into the cowled man's face as it looked at him but did not. A smile rang upon it's face as it looked at his scars and into void that was his left eye, taken by the Curse of Lloth. "And so it seems you have payed the price for it, or should I say for her.....", the cold being said to him.

Laisren thought to scream out with all his fury but before he could, the being changed his grip and grabbed Laisren by the throat. Then the creature peered into Laisren's eye. Then it began to smile again and in a low, cruel whisper said to him, "Do not worry boy, your precious Saline and her green elves still have a role to play in the great war that is to come. So too, will your child..........."

He sat there beside the one he knew as Shyntavayas and another elf he did not. Customs were as they were meant to be, "Tell me, from where do you hail"?, he asked and as the young woman, Febriel her name, began to balk he encouraged her, "Please, we are all kin here..."

Though there was something that seemed terribly wrong to him. This feeling of deja vu which he could not shake. Then the old familiar remedy to the ills of his mind came back to him. He stood and walked directly over to the bar, from behind it he grabbed an amber bottle with a Moonshae Pine Tree upon it. Yes, this is it, he thought to himself as he walked back over to the table, grabbing two goblets along the way.

When the young elf stopped her story and looked toward him he raised one goblet and poured a clear brown liquid into it from the bottle. "If you should wish sister?", he asked the young elf though she refused. "Very well, more for us then ay Shynt?", he said with no sense of merriment. Passing the first goblet to Shynt, he quickly poured the second and took down a giant swig.

His mouth went numb, his throat and chest began to burn while his teeth grit. It was not long before his thoughts did as well, turning to see the two women looking at him. The normally cordial Shynt seemed to be eyeing him curiously as she slowly put aside her wine and took the goblet, gently sipping it all while continuing to watch him. While he found this odd, he let it pass as with all of his thoughts.

Thoughts of her, thoughts of them and all that stood between them, and all that did not. He took another strong pull and as his insides burned his mind cooled some more. The young elven woman continued
to explain of the meaning of the inner self and the corporal world but by now he was somewhere else.

How had he come to be here? Who were these elves to do this to him? How could he have been so wrong? He took another swig and now there was nothing but her, the smile she gave him as they lay within the fields before Gullykin. The times left unspoken as he stared at her watching her tea kettle patiently come to a boil. The very first time he met her, telling her of the return of the elves to the old ways.......

He felt his teeth grit though he did not drink and decidedly he remindied this by doing so. Until finally, he could see nothing before him but the half empty bottle and the two women staring at him. "Excuse me, I....I must be..", he said as he tried to stand but slipped, only to be held upright by the sturdy hands of Shyntavayas.

He turned to her, "Thank you, I don't know what has come over me.....", he spoke though he trailed off as he stumbled for the door. "I will see...you both in the morning....", he had meant to say, "yes" but could not finish his statement, concentrating on the making it through the door before him.



When he brambled out of the Tavern and out into the village, he felt the eyes of the wood elves upon him. He straightened and attempted to walk straight for his bed within the Skyway Place, though he knew he stumbled attempting just to place one foot in front of the other. The villagers eyes seem to burden him and a few times he felt his legs give way, only to catch himself.

It was then that he realized that he dragged the bottle within his left hand with him and to give him strength against their glares he put it to his lips and drank once more. Now, there was no concern, no worry for the eyes of others and only the task at hand. Though this seemed harder, he smiled to himself, though he know not why.

He hit the first stair and tripped forward. "Hahaha...", he laughed at himself as the world spun around him. It wobbled and spun as he felt his feet pound upon each step as they shifted left to right. Finally, he found himself within the straw and goose feathered bed staring at the wooden ceiling above. It began to spin, worrling faster and faster until it was fun no more.....

He felt the contents of his stomach begin to heave back forth and it took all he could to leap forth and to the corner of the room where he released them in violent fashion. He wobbled back to the bed feeling better but still ill beyond his ability to understand. It was then that he felt the hands of one comforting his back and pulling back his hood. "Saline...?", he asked in a sudden expectant tone as he turned to see this figure.

"No", the figure said shaking it's head sadly down at him. "Saline, I don't know what has....., I have drank so much since I was....but never...", he trailed off telling the false figure. Shyntavayas just looked down at him sadly and continued to rub his back gently as he fell into a deep reverie and dreamed of Saline.

All he could think, was how wrong he was.......he must get back to the one he loved, to their child, to protect them and tell her, how very sorry he was.........

He sat there sharpening his blades, quietly awaiting the others to finish. There was naught but anger and angst, though he did not know why. The woman Shyntavayas stood next to him and this did cause him some consternation. Never since he was a child crying before the smoldering body of his mother within the great northern city of Neverwinter had he been so weak as before this woman.

Still, his mind was only partially caught in this dance of sadness, for a more important matter lay ahead of him. The only thing that really mattered anymore, finding Saline. The others spoke, blustered upon what was trivial while his loved one, he felt, was in danger. It took all his will and self control not to burst out in the middle to the foray. So, he sat there and sharpened these blades he had yet to dance with.

Demons of eons hence and ancient organizations which did not make themselves known, these things were hardly important. He sharpened his swords and knives. He sharpened his thoughts and his memories. He tried so hard to remember her, the woman he needed to be with.....
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Playing along the bridge of Doron as the waterfall crashed behind them. She was there with her arrows notched but she did not see him. He tapped her on the shoulder and she sped around to fire as he ran and tumbled harmlessly out of the way of her arrows and disappeared from sight once more. She did not hesitate as he watched her, she notched another arrow and scanned around. He smiled at this.

He crept to the small camp below the bridge and when her eyes scanned toward the inn, he cast a spell of grease on the bridge beneath her feet. He watched as she started to slip, her feet kicking out from beneath her and he laughed but then she caught her feet and fired the arrow off. The laugh ceased and the smile ran from his face. It was all he could do to turn in-order to brace himself from the impact of the arrow and it struck him directly in his left cheek.

He fell to the ground holding his backside and letting out a slight grimace. "Arrghh," he said and pulled the arrow from his behind when suddenly she was upon him, not with an arrow this time but with a look of shame. "Are you alright?" she said trying to hold back a mischevious grin. "I might live from the wound but I then might die from this shame", he said and smiled back at her.

She stooped down to him smiling and kissed him deeply. "I'm sorry," she said without conviction. "No you're not", he replied and she broke out laughing. "No, not really but I still feel bad", was all she could say as she looked back down to him earnestly.......

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He was sharpening his blade when he heard his name being called. "Laisren, you needed something?" the new Aegis spoke to him. It was all he could do to stare back at the man and not cry out in fury. "I need those willing, I need to find my wife..............."

Though he walked alone down the path, he did not fear. Fhaeo was the name of this elf and as he walked, he carried with him the notice of the shadows beside him. Then came on first rush of Orcs. Fhaeo stood his ground, pointed his hammer at the leading Orc and then settled down behind his shield to brace for the impact.

That impact, at least from the first Orc never came for suddenly there was the sound of something whistling through the air. Next came the sound of a large body hitting the ground at Fhaeo's feet. He dropped his shield a bit to scan the pass before him. Orcs, three of them in total staring at the ridge above where the elven woman Shynatavayas stood notching another arrow. The sound of wheezing and gurgling came from the Orc at Fhaeo's feet, blood squirting from three arrows puncturing the creatures neck.

He did not hesitate, he called forth, "Come now, you sons of swine (germbag)!". The three orcs ten paces from his person, stopped looking upon the ridge, snorted and charged forth once more. This gave Shyntavayas the time needed and angle. She loaded and aimed and fired. She struck the last berserker Orc directly in the small of it's back but what would normally be a paralyzing strike simply slowed the furious creature, however wounded it was.

Fhaeo again raised his shield and this time he was not disappointed as the full weight of the two other adult males slammed into him. His feet partly gave way under the weight of the blow, sliding him backward until his heals dug into the dirt stopping their momentum. The two orcs clawed, stabbed and spit past his shield. The third, arrows still in it's back slowly made way for his right, more exposed flank. It never made it.

A shadow came out from the brush, to strike a glimmering point deep into the wound in it's back. Blood sprayed out, as the Orc's rage ended in a high pitched squeal. It's body falling limp to the ground, it's breathing had already beginning to slow. Fhaeo, could not concern himself with this, though the two other Orcs did. Their attention briefly turning to what happened to their now dying comrade. Fhaeo took this opportunity to drive up his shield into the face of one of the orcs, shattering it's tusks and knocking the creature to the ground.

Now, with his large war hammer he swung round from his waist, up over his head and drove down as if chopping wood upon the large creatures skull. There was a sickly cracking noise as it struck down on it's target. Still, although Fhaeo knew he had mortally wounded his opponent he turned in fear to his now exposed flank. There, what he saw, he did not know if he believed.

There stood eight shadows, dancing around the last of the orcs. The orc struck out with it's wildly with it's spear. It struck thin air and as it's body lurched forward from the weight on it's own strike, one of the shadows stepped out from behind it to stab deep into it's hamstring. The Orc limped around, blood flowing from it's wound, striking for wildly once more but this time as much out of fear as fury. It struck one of the shadows with a loud and terrible war cry.

This bluster disappeared as the shadow before it disappeared, yet seven others remained standing around it, silent as death. It let out one last war cry, when all the shadow figures disappeared at once. The orc stopped and whipped around crazily until another glimmering flash of a blade darted in from it's side to slice the Orc's neck, spraying blood out and silencing the beast for good. Before it could even drop to it's knees, three more arrows struck it the middle of the large beast's back, knocking it forward as if it had been kicked by a giant.

The seven shadows stood looking down at their prey when they turned to Fhaeo and Shyntavayas, who was now standing next to him. "You fight well young Fhaeo", they said as they walked by him to continue down the path. "Now come, we need to find my wife", was the last that they said before disappearing between the rays of light and shadow falling like an illusion of light from the canopy above.

Fhaeo looked to Shyn, who was suddenly was gone as well. He walked by the quivering orc which now held his war hammer within it's own skull. Fhaeo picked up the war hammer and without hesitation slammed it down once more to end the creature's suffering. He continued on and although he walked alone down the path, he did not fear...........

"You do not know what true survival is until you do not have a home," Laisren told the young Fhaeo, who simply looked back toward the dark hooded elf. "It is then that one might be forged in the fire....." Laisren trailed off, but then his head perked up. "They are coming, prepare yourself," he said while dropping a knife from the sleeve of his robes........

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Hobgoblin lay upon the ground around the two elves, some gasping their last breath on this plane and others motionless with arrows strewn about them. The young Fhaeo stood there panting, his shield still in position, but Laisren simply stood there silently until abrubtly he fell to a knee. "Are you alright?" Fhaeo asked. "Yes....I, we need to move from here to set camp for the night, it comes...." he said in a pained expression.

"Why, what comes this night?" the younger elf asked as the woman Shynatavayas materialized beside the kneeling Laisren. "The dusk hunters," replied Laisren as Shyntayas nodded in agreement helping him up. "Who....?" Fhaeo began but could not finish as the other two elves began walking from the village. He followed without hesitation, running before them with his shield still drawn.

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Night began to settle upon the southern High Moor and so too did the trio of elves. They set camp under the rising cresent moon and unlike many elves, they set a fire before them to sit around. Laisren sat there, all of his arcane magic having now faded from around him after their long journey, staring at the flames. "Laisren, what did you mean by the Dusk Hunters?" the young Fhaeo asked once more.

Laisren, still staring at the fire with his head drooping and nodding as if about to fall into a deep reverie replied, "You will soon see young Fhaeo...." when suddenly his head perked up. "Who are you, why do you watch us from the shadow!?!" he then demanded of a young woman standing in the shroud of a boulder fallen from the hills above.

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He apologized as much out of sheer exhaustion as true sincerity. He simply could not keep his eyes open any longer. His muscles burned, as did his eyes, his bones ached and the innermost of his being tugged at the call for rest. "I will guard the camp and keep watch of this woman!" Fhaeo exclaimed pridefully. It was all Laisren could do but to nod as he climbed into the tent and fell into a deep reverent sleep.

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He awoke alone, no tent covering his being, only mist. He began to stand and as he did the thick fog distorted his view. He began to call out, "Shyntavayas.....Fhaeo!!!", though no sound came from his voice. He peered desperately through the mist. He was all alone and a great impending fear entered into his heart.

"SALINE!!!!!", he cried out with all his might and all though he could feel the strain of his words, they carried not a sound but a hoarse whisper.

Then suddenly, as he frantically looked before him, he could see images in the mist. They were people, the mist in the shapes of people, blowing by him as if being pushed by some wind he could not feel. He tried to focus upon their faces but he could not tell who they were as they swept by him.

When he turned to look behind, he saw the images of mist stepping into a great abyss, dark and infinite. He began to move forward, first stepping gingerly, then picking up his pace as the fear began to build up within him. He glanced behind again to see the vast abyss swallowing up all the images billowing past him, his fear becoming greater and greater, he began to run faster with a sense of urgency and dread driving him forward. He only looked ahead now, the figures of the mist blowing by him. They looked at him as he ran, as if they knew him but he did not care to look back.

He ran as fast as he could until he could see the end of the mist and the people moving by him. He ran until he reached the end but before him was nothing but darkness as well. He spun round, as if attempting to ascertain a direction, a path for which to flee but there seemed none as the last of the images began to move by him.

It was then, that he saw her once more running in the distance. Her golden gown bright as the shinning of a star. His eyes widened as he stood in disbelief. "Saline!!!!", he cried out as he began to run toward her. The last of the images of mist was behind him and he was now alone running in the dark.

The woman grew no closer as he ran toward her and she toward him. It was then that a third figure appeared, rising as if from the darkness itself before him. It blotted out the image of the woman, and all before him, as Laisren came to an abrupt halt. The figure was silhouetted in pure darkness and extended his arm in a halting manner before lifting it's cowled to face in his direction.

All he could see was a shrouded face, blue lips curling into a smile. Its yellow rotting teeth then mouthed the words, "My boy," though he could not hear the sound. At that moment, a terrible dread overcame him and his heart sank. He stood there in disbelief, without hope, without reason, when suddenly he felt a warm hand take his and begin to pull him in another direction, though he continued to look on at the dark figure.

He watched it as its dark smile faded into the distance. He turned to look before him now as he felt himself running. He saw the woman in the golden gown pulling him and pleading with him as they ran toward a large dark silhouette of a structure in the distance. He had no energy left, it was only her pulling and pleading that drug him forth toward this omnificent structure.

That was until he focused upon her face. It was his wife pulling and pleading with him to follow her. When he looked up to see to where she was imploring him to go, he could see a tiny light shinning from upon what looked like a giant temple. As they grew closer he could hear a sound within the distance, calling for him..... "Laisren......." it called, "Laisren.....".

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He felt himself being lightly shook, "Laisren, it tis now past the zenith of light!!" It was the sound of Fhaeo's voice. He looked around and saw the inside of a tent and a light shinning through its entrance. He shook his head. "You have been in reverie for near half a day cousin," he heard the concerned voice of Fhaeo say to him. "Have I...?" Laisren asked as he saw the ever present, familiar smiling face of Shyntavayas looking down upon him and nodding.

"If you wish move deeper brother, before the coming of the dusk hunter's from which you speak, it must be now," he heard Fhaeo's voice say to him. Laisren nodded slowly, sitting up and peering into the light. "Yes, I need to find her..........."

"The Dusk Hunters are near," Laisren told the other elves as he looked into the moss filled oak branches, the dying light of the sun dimming the moor into shadow. "There is a path. Follow me closely and move swiftly", he commanded them.

Their bows and shields at the ready, they moved at a swift pace along the eastern ridge until they came to an old wooden shack nestled between the lichen covered hills. "Tis the witch doctor of this moor, they do not dare venture near," he begins to explain. "Do not offer word, I will question the old one of the travels of elves". The other elves nodded in agreement. Laisren walked toward the old cloaked doctor of this land.

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"What did he say?" asked the young Fhaeo. "He said nothing, but I know the wild elves passed this way" Laisren replied. "How?" the wood elf asked. "There is not time. Come, we must move" the dark hooded Laisren said, "this way before dusk settles this land". So the elves ran, forever looking and searching the distance within the fog that was the seemingly hellish deep moor. "Stop, there! Do you see them....?" Laisren motioned to a shadowy clearing not but one hundred feet from them.

There stood a figure cloaked in the shadow of the moor, its pale white skin seeming as if to glow and blue veins pulsing its wiry frame. It carried with it a bow and rotting leather armor, seemingly centuries old. It's ears were pointed as an elf's but it's eyes shown an eerie red. Laisren nodded in the beings direction, "That tis a dusk hunter", he said turning to look at Fhaeo and Anicel.

"Come, there bares little time before dusk, we must find them", he said to the young elves before rushing off for a clearing which led them by a great structure which began to cast a shadow over all the land beyond. They had little time to see, before a single path hidden by moss and vine opened before them.

There was a sudden cacophony of clanging, reverberating through them and bringing them to an abrupt stop, sword and bow drawn. They looked about to realize they stood surrounded by barrels seeping with tar. Upon glancing down, it came to their immediate attention that they were in fact standing in a pool of the gelatinous substance. Suddenly, three wild elves stepped from the small clearing before them wielding fire torches and arrows.

"Who dares disturb our people?" a male voice cried out in elven before them. The elves of the Misty Forest trained their gaze forward and slowly lowered their arms. They had found that which they had come for, or so they hoped.

"I, Laisren of the Misty Forest people....," Laisren spoke out, no longer whispering. "I have come to find my wife.......your Queen."

It had been three days since he had arrived, sitting by her side, dabbing her forehead with a wet cloth rag as she lay there in her fever. It had been three days, though he did not know it. Three anguishing days that she lay there unmoving, unknowing and pale. Throughout this time he felt as if his heart would burst, but he remained diligently by her side...........

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"Aegis of the Misty Forest, she has been taken by this for sometime now," the Wild Elven Shaman told him. "Her spirit has gone beyond our powers now, I am sorry", the wild elf said looking sadly down at a broken Moon Elf kneeling beside his wife and pleading to her. "Please, don't go, don't leave me.....", the Moon Elf pleaded to the pale woman laying upon her straw bed.

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He sat beside her now, three days latter, his eyes growing heavy and tired. He refused any aid from the wild ones as they entered the tent, never leaving her side to take respite, nor sustenance. She was all that had kept him alive and now she lay here in a place beyond his reach. He didn't know what he should do, he just knew he could never leave her again. He could never leave the child that she carried.........

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When he awoke, there was naught but the field in which the tent had sat, without any of its trappings. He awoke alone, alone with the breeze blowing upon his face and a soft morning mist sprawling around him. There in the distance, in the last vestige of the moon's twilight, stood the woman in her golden gown, a sad look upon her face. "Why!?!?" Laisren screamed to her. She walked toward him slowly, her eyes filled now with sorrow. Those eyes, those of his beloved.

"Because the will of the Gods is beyond all that you might comprehend," she said with a sigh. He wailed and beat his head within his hands as the dark sky began to brighten. "You did this!!!!" he screamed at the now glowing sky. "Do not be angry dear boy," the woman told him gently, "do not be scared". "I am not!!!" he tore his face from his hands and yelled to her. "Why did you take her from me!?!?!" his voice carried a terrible anger.

"I have not my boy, it was you left her but alas, she is not lost...", the voice said sadly down unto him. His tears suddenly stopped and he looked up to her pleadingly for an answer. "You will find her once more, when all things come to pass and your destiny has concluded........" the woman's voice told him as she place her hands upon his face and closed his eyes............

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He awoke, still reaching for the hand he had held for three days hence but his hand grasped at nothing, she was gone. His eyes flashed around, he whirled about attempting to comprehend. But there he was alone in this tent, with nothing left but her lingering scent.

It was then that the broken fragments of his dream began to come together within his mind. His anger and resentment began to fade being replaced with longing and abandonment. As reality of the situation began to substantiate, and the utter hopelessness and melancholy set in, he began to feel for the first time in his life at a complete loss of purpose. What am I supposed to do?

"No..noo..no..no...nooo....", he cried as he spun round looking for her. A shrill wailing sound could be heard coming from him as he grasped the empty woolen sheets where her body was lying but now sat creased and empty. Tears streamed down his face as he clutched the sheets toward him, falling backwards as he did.

He stared at the sheets, though her scent began to disappear from them as snot ran down in strings where it touched his face. He heard men enter the tent and yell down to him in a gutteral elven, "What, what did you do with out Queen!!!". He slowly turned around to view the two large figures standing in the tent entrance, both blurry from the water that filled his eyes. He held the sheets out to them, not as evidence of his innocence so much as a request for help. He did not want them to find the woman that was their Queen, he wanted them to find the woman for whom he loved.

He saw the figures look between themselves and then rush out of the tent yelling something he could not comprehend, though he heard horns and alarms sound from outside of it. Laisren began to loose all touch and sense of his surroundings. He tried to stand, falling once before catching himself and staggering for the tent's opening. He drug the woolen sheets behind him, though he did not know it.

When he exited the tent flap, a cold wind blew upon his face chilling his tears and face. He looked around to see blurry figures continue to run around him, one stepping upon the sheets which he tore up from the ground in an involuntary rebuke. He went out into an open space where a whirlwind of elves and noise blew round him like a storm.

He could not comprehend what was going on, it was too much for him to process. After all he had been through in his life, this was it, this was the event that was simply too much for him to bear. The cold continued to chill him and he felt himself begin to shiver. He wrapped the woolen sheets around him as he kneeled down shaking as a child.

It was then that he felt the blade at his side. The cold steel which had slid partly from it's scabbard stuck to his wrist as it brushed by. He opened up the sheets to look at his elven short blade resting upon his hip. He grasped it without notice, drawing it forth to see it's keen edge glint in the twilight. He stared at it for a moment, with it's precision and craftsmanship. It was so beautiful he thought. It was his answer.

So, as the whirlwind blew cold around him and the wild elves ran as wild as the world around them, without order, without reason, he shrugged the sheets he now wore from off of his shoulders. He put his one arm out before him and with the other he set the blades edge against the skin of his wrist. This cruel world would be over soon he thought, what else did matter..........

That is when he heard it, "THE QUEEN, THE QUEEN, SHE IS BEING CARRIED BY THE MIST!!!!!!....................

((Sorry, been busy with family obligations lately but taking a look at this last post I felt it a bit melodramatic but poignant. Still, I remixed the music a bit. Also, I will have the next post prepared for tonight:

As soon as he heard the shouts, Laisren's eyes darted up to the ridgeline above the eastern edge of the camp, where the wild elves were pointing. The light of the moon began to bath the ridge in it's glow and usher in the night, and there she was, illuminated within it's rays. Saline's prone body lie incased within a greenish mist and it floated slowly away from the camp, towards the central moor. As Laisren stared in disbelief, his blade dropped from his hand and he confusedly staggered forward in the direction toward his wife.

He began to pick up speed as the reality of the situation dawned on him and he realized this was no dream. He quickened his pace until he was running, but his momentum was impeded by the Wild Elves in his way who were still gawking at the terrible spectacle. His frustration and helplessness growing with each push through the crowd, he shouted "Stop them!!!" over and over, though he did not know who them might be.

When he saw some Wild Elven archers begin to notch arrows and draw toward the ridge line he ran for them and swatted their bows down. "No, you will hit her!!!" he yelled to them in their native tongue. Though his legs still felt a bit unsteady from exhaustion and lack of reverie, he forced himself to sprint ahead, quickly outpacing the Wild Elven guards behind him.

He noticed that the mist was moving beyond the camp now and beyond the moon's light. He reached for his spell book, hoping to hasten his speed more still but alas, he had left it within the tent. He kept running despite the fact that the mist was now beyond his vision.

He ran through the entrance of the camp where his people, Fhaeo and Arin, stood attempting to discern what was happening. They called to Laisren as he ran by, but he was unconscious of their presence. They began to run after him calling for him when suddenly a pack of worgs appeared. Their red eyes glowed in the darkness as they growled toward the on rushers. Laisren slowed his pace for a moment, enough to pull a dagger from his belt to accompany the one remaining elven short blade still held within it's scabbard.

He did not slow his pace until just before the creatures when suddenly he vanished and the on rushers behind him were forced to deal with the malevolent beasts. Fhaeo was first into the fray, slamming his shield into the first Worg's snapping jaws, knocking out a few of it's teeth and then battering it with his shield. Arin seeing the formidable nature of the beasts, stopped and cast a spell, dozens of darts flew from his extended hand to strike a remaining worg on the beasts flank as it darted in for Fhaeo.

Each of these beasts collapsed into mist, which then began to flow back towards the center of the Moor as well. Volleys of arrows flew to strike the remaining Worgs as the Wild Elves caught up in pursuit, chasing the beasts back into the moor. "Laisren!!!", Fhaeo called out to the darkness with no reply. He did not wait, running off after the mists that were once a pack of Worgs, hoping that their destination was the same as Laisren's.

After several leagues and with Arin and the Wild Elves in tow he saw where this destination was and it was as he feared, the dark temple of the Orzogoth. Before it stood the same pack of Worgs, turning now to stare back at Fhaeo and the on rushers, The worgs were now bolstered by a war band of Orzogoth vampires. Before Fhaeo could think a figure appeared from out of the shadows behind the wall of dark defenders, stabbing one of the vampires in the neck.

There was little time for thought as he watched the horde of vampire and worg whirl around to see their attacker. It was Laisren, who stood before the vampire striking several times with his sword and dagger. Fhaeo began to run forward, calling out to this unnatural foe before him. What happened next seemed more a blurr, as he entered the line of Orzogoth. Snarling, snapping jaws, arrows whizzing by and sharp claws tearing at his armor as he fought relentlessly swinging shield and hammer.

He fought until his muscles ached and there was finally a final cry of a worg shrieking in pain as he slammed his hammer down upon it's hind leg trapping it. Then it too turned into mist, which now lay as a heavy fog around him. A single silhouette he saw amongst the Mist not far from him. He dropped his shield and hammer instantly he moved to grab it as it began to move slowly toward the stairs of the tower.

"Laisren, you must stop!!!", the large Wood Elf pleaded with his commander. The smaller Moon Elf swung around as feral as the worgs they had just defeated together. "THEY HAVE MY WIFE!!!", he screamed at Fhaeo while pointing his blade at the top of the tower, struggling to be let free. The Wood Elf was too strong, holding Laisren where he stood. "Laisren, they will have you too, you can not go in there alone!", he pleaded.

Laisren began to growl toward Fhaeo, his one crystal blue eye staring at the wood elf with murderous intent. "We need the others Laisren, please I want to help your wife as well but we enter now without the support of others we will all perish and so will your wife!", Fhaeo said in a moment of solemn but undeniable truth. The moon elf shrugged Fhaeo off with one last effort and just continued to stare at him.

Laisren growled and then stopped. He stood there a few moments staring at Fhaeo and panting heavily. Laisren then looked to Arin and the Wild Elves surrounding Fhaeo. Laisren's scared face, no longer covered by his long forgotten cowl, was a mess of anger and helplessness but somehow he spoke with an intense control.

In a low audible tone he said, "Arin, go back and retrieve my spell book and belongings, I will put forth a call to Dharasha". He then looked up to the tower. "When they arrive, we will enter and we will retrieve my wife..........."

The full moon's light shown down on the elves gathered within the Moor, as he paced back and forth fitfully awaiting his people from the Misty Forest. Laisren, twirled his elven shortblade in his hand, while his one good eye watched for movement from atop of the Dark Temple. All within the Moor remained eerily silent. This only caused him greater agitation, as with each turn of his pace he quickened until he felt a presence by his side. "They will come, you must be patient..", the voice of Fhaeo told him before Laisren interjected, "They should have been here by now!".

He was right, the spell of sending should have returned the well trained Dharashans to their position before the night was through but still they heard not a word, until suddenly shadowy figures could be seen overcoming the horizon to the southwest. A cry in elven went out from amongst this number as the wild elves and others gathered began to notch their bows, "Laisren, we have come to your call". He eyed them with contempt as they came, until he had seen some of their number wounded and being carried by the others.

What troubled Laisren the most as the Dharashan came and laid their wounded at the feet of their former Aegis, the fletching of the arrows protruding the wounds of the injured. "We ran into some trouble upon the road", said the current Ahk'aegis, a sleek and cunning faced wood elf told Laisren. Laisren thought to ask, but there was no more time, his wife needed him and he would wait not longer. "Prepare your men to enter the temple, those able bodied, the injured leave with the Wild Elves", he said in a gruff and determined tone.

"Wait, what is this, our people are....", Slade began to argue before Laisren roared back at him while pointing back to the wild elves gathered, "MY WIFE, THEIR QUEEN, HAS BEEN TAKEN BY THOSE BLOOD SUCKERS!!!". Slade, looked between determined Laisren and the concerned looking wild elves before nodding solemnly. Nothing more was said, as Slade made few silent gestures while keeping his eyes on the frantic Laisren. The Wood Elves turned their wounded over to the Wild Elves and began preparing their blades, arrows and prayers to enter the temple.

When the last prayer was muttered, Laisren began to climb the steps of the temple..........

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A dark ritual begins, as the Orzogoth prepare the vessel of the now entranced Wild Elven Queen. They rejoice, their razor sharp canines all that is visible within the darkness of the temple, as they grin wickedly watching her usher in the harbinger of their new age..............