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

My days as of late are filled with grief. I have lost two people very close to me. I have lost Valge, my mate and I've lost my apprentice, Kelburn Ironfaar. Even though I have lost a part of myself I am yet proud. But how did I lose her? The answer is simple, her goals. She claims to have been a dragon and I believe her. her goal is to reclaim her old form. I offered her aid through my arcane powers. While I learned a ritual to transform someone else into a true dragon she also learned of yet another way, a safer one. The aforementioned new method requires her to break her attachments to everyone, be more chaotic and wild. It includes our love. Because I place everyone above me, I went along. I rather make sure she is alive than risk killing her, even if I may no longer reap the fruit. I pray to Asgorath to fulfil her desires, maybe.. once she succeeds we may reunite, maybe we will not. Only time will tell.

I am now once again alone. All the members humanoid family discounting my nephew are dead; my apprentice is gone and I know nothing of his whereabouts, I pray for his safety; Many of my friends went their way, such as Mateo for example; My other friends are busy and not available ; Jilnpel flew to other regions in quest of tale ; Kifel is busy researching the location of a gold dragon ; The Silverstone clan is too far away for me to communicate with them casually ; Valge took a vow against emotional attachments and I've not yet found any adventurers capable of accompanying me on my adventures either.

I have used to look up to the sky after a most difficult adventure in long forgotten places. I searched for either Selune or the Sun, depending on when I emerged. When I looked to the sun's rays I beheld the sight and offered praise for my survival. The glow and warmth of the flaming orb comforted me for I felt Valge's smile in it. When I looked at Selune I was reminded of her silver hair and kept going to see it for real. It is now bleak, not symbolic in any way. It is.. disheartening. I am thankful for her releasing me of my duty though, saying I have completed them with utter success. That is what keeps me going now, that I can succeed at my duties, not only fail. I do not believe I will avoid such attachments, but I will not be seeking them actively. If such a situation arises I will tackle it with my best, try to avoid being reluctant.

((



Hoihe basically


Determination trope

((

Kifel to a guard: "Eh, never seen a winged old man?

Just recording it here since I omitted it from my signature.

((I have like 10 A4 pages in my english excercise book as journal entries but I am too lazy to copy them over.. however The Dacino of Starwars are awesome! I didn't attend the RP community I was in for a few months.. I thought the Dacino Order's territory was captured by the Sith Empire... However..


Pietro Broccoli: Being a badass: You help the teacher teach the class because the program is using english interface.
Pietro Broccoli: So..
Pietro Broccoli: I taught the teacher
Pietro Broccoli: The teacher in turn taught the class.
Pietro Broccoli: I want a paycheck!
ϟαηcтцs Jaиgо Fётт: Rofl.
ϟαηcтцs Jaиgо Fётт: 5?
ϟαηcтцs Jaиgо Fётт: xD.
Pietro Broccoli: Anyways..
Pietro Broccoli: What's going on on your side?
ϟαηcтцs Jaиgо Fётт: Not much (plot-wise) yet.
ϟαηcтцs Jaиgо Fётт: Dacino went big.
Pietro Broccoli: They went what?
Pietro Broccoli: Btw.. I blew my old VGA
ϟαηcтцs Jaиgо Fётт: Big.
Pietro Broccoli: I had to downgrade to an Ati X600 Radeon
ϟαηcтцs Jaиgо Fётт: Territorial speaking.
ϟαηcтцs Jaиgо Fётт: And, oh dear...
Pietro Broccoli: They expanded?
Pietro Broccoli: How o.o?


(notice the big cluster of planets? That wasn't part of the order's territory before I went AWOL. )

((


Recording the concept art there.))



"It has indeed been a while since the last time I've recorded my thoughts. This accursed tavern is a rather bad place to do so but at least I'm left alone as I wait for her. I have no idea why she wanted to meet in Roaringshore over the cozy ship of Whistling Wanderess. I suppose I'll just adapt.

What am I to write? Perhaps I'll write that ever since the dark evil I've been chasing in the quest related to Avereon has returned? Indeed it has or so I believe. The darkness has returned in form of cryptic carvings upon the walls of the caverns that once were a iron mine in the Cloakwoods.

A man named Plissken uncovered them and as Fate has it, he activated them and got cursed. Nightmares are apparently assailing him. I've given him a list of things to do as per testing it to know if it's the same thing. Even if it isn't I must chase after this for the time being. Once I've exchanged my fortune for the Draconomicon that belongs to this "Jon Smythe" I will go down there and explore. I must admit I have my doubts, this may be something I did not prepare properly for but I hope I'll manage. You can not win by not taking risks. I will not risk another, however, it is against my Duty.

So much for the relief with nothing major happening. I was hoping for a few months of simple, classical adventuring after the black orc war.

The Guide has retired and Laitae was put in the rank of his. I did not know however and I jabbered on to her about my wish to become a Reader. I was stunned when I found out she is the new Guide. I wonder what will come of this jabbering. She did admit I make a good leader, that people tend to follow me easily. Only problem is that I've led warbands and such, not bands of scholars. But I'm a human adventurer, for now at least for I'll one day turn myself into a dragon, I am pretty adaptable.

((Placeholder. I think the story fails in 3rd person view. I'll write a journal entry about it. It's going to be here until I'm in writing mood again so I won't forget the general-what-happened


Hoihe as always was busy mixing various essences and potions, trying to find something new. His trusty companion, Alquedrah the cat was being bitter as always at the cold the cave is filled with, but quickly stopped once his master casted a spell of Endure Elements on him using a scroll.

With the cat quiet at last, he had the peace required to take a look at his notes. He neatly placed them in various piles from the chaotic pile they were originally in. He collected them in piles of: "Averëon Elestar, Black gem phenomena", "Plissken, possible black gem phenomena", "Blood tests of various sorcerers' heritage", "The mysteries of draconic blood", "Weave", "Psionics", and at last as he was about to place his draconic transformation ritual notes in a pile he found that snow covered one of the papers. He swiftly brushed it aside and read it, he quickly became excited at what was written "30 000 gold as component?! You hear that Al? I can proceed with the ritual!" The cat shook its head and through telepathy warned Hoihe which he ignored by saying "If I'm a dragon then I can easily make the gold back to pay Jon Smythe!"

Shoving his work aside for the time being he cut off his ponytail, for it's a component. He took large samples of his blood, enough to knock himself out a few times from blood loss that his cloak recovered then distilled the blood to extract the diluted draconic influence then try to purify it for the ritual. He then piled up the 30 000 gold coins in a ritualistic circle and stood in the middle.

It was done just outside the entrance to his lair atop the Cloudpeaks, not far from his hand-crafted shrine to the draconic gods. The blood he purified was placed in direction of Asgorath's large shrine while his cut off hair covered the areas between the piles of gold. With everything ready he performed the final preparation: Scrolls of Shapechange in all the columns of the ritual circle. He took one in hand and began.

Focusing on what he had in his own body and what he extracted, alongside with the hair of his he tried to transmute himself into a wyrmling of a silver dragon. Which he failed, the gold quickly was used up , far too soon to continue with the ritual. Sensing his failure he tried to recover the gold he wasted and managed to do so with it's half. In an attempt to halt the failed ritual he casted a Mordkainen's Disjunction on the ritual circle, disrupting the powerful arcane energies gathered and caused a sizeable explosion throwing off the snow from the peak. He was glad the disjunction did not destroy his regeneration cloak for he was still in the process of using his blood as a component for the ritual, a guide. As the explosion went off it's shock wave sent him flying into the shrine he made, luckily not knocking anything over. A good quarter of his blood was used up in the ritual, the rest pouring outside from the cuts the sharp ice made on his skin. He was "Stable" for the cloak regenerated what he lost but the wounds were too large for it to halt. In a last attempt to stop falling into indefinite coma, he attempted to mend his own blood through stilled arcane forces, grunting various incantations of transmutation. Eventually it worked, he successfully staunched his own wounds and fell unconscious from the blood loss.

With the cloak working it's magic, it removed the wounds from the body of the sorcerer and slowly but definitively refilling his veins with his slightly altered blood. If he succeeded with anything, he increased the concentration of the draconic influence but not by much. After a day of laying unconscious atop the cold peaks he awoke to see his cat worriedly looking him over. From it's mouth hanged a restored note, explaining that the ritual required 3 000 000 gold and not 30 000. He just grunted "I hate snow when it does that" before pulling himself together to rest in the lair of his, staring at the barren rocks. He just plopped down on his bed and got some proper rest.

A day later

Awoken and fresh once more, he grabbed himself some proper robes and proceeded with a meal. As usual, he ate a lot. He felt off, as if he weakened himself but brushed it aside. He soon found out what happened.

Outside his lair, looking down the trail down towards the other trail that connects Lake Weng with Nashkell he began to ward. Extended Shield, extended Cat's Grace, Extended Bull's Strength, False Life, Mirror Images, Stilled Greater Magic Weapon, Stilled Improved Mage Armor, Stilled Keen weapon.. Stilled Displacement?

He just blinked and stared oddly at the displaced images of his. His blank expression soon turned to a grin: "At least one part of the ritual worked. I managed to change my spells!" - then chuckled excitedly. "I wonder what else did I manage to change. Al, aren't you curious?" - he asked the feline companion of his. Hoihe proceeded with his wardings and came to a halt when he couldn't cast True Seeing, Shadow Shield, Premotion and Greater Shadow Conjuration. Instead, he casted various cantrips and sometimes wild spells that he had no idea what they were. He tried again but failed. "Damn it, It seems I can't control my stronger spells like after my last ritual..." - soon he entered a discussion with his cat and came to a conclusion. "Damn it, I need to practice casting magic all over again. Damned ritual and DAMNED SNOW! I hope at least my bloody dragon breath works." Indeed it worked, only a little bit weaker than it was and harder to control with his weakened health. Satisfied it is only because of the weakness after the ritual, he breathed on his greatsword and proceeded downwards.

Yeti ambushed him and he fought back. Displacing himself to compensate for his lack of Shadow Shield and Premotion he powerfully struck his greatsword into a yeti. It was a bad idea. The frozen metal splintered into bits, parts of it stuck in the ape-like creature and parts of it flying all over. He spoke curses that he did not speak in months and quickly grabbed a rune to teleport away. Arriving just outside the walls of Baldur's Gate he dusted himself off and dispelled his wards. "Damn it.. I need to practice my Elemental Weapon all over again.. seems I can't control my dragon breath well enough to avoid freezing my weapon..."

Not long afterwards he met with Luthien, Durin and a few others who called him a batty because of the ritual. Inside, he agreed. How could he forget that such a ritual costs 3 000 000 coins of gold?!
))

Hoihe sat down on a rock after leaving Doron Amar and contacting Elvorfiwien, after his meeting with Tyressen, and took out his journal with a sigh and scribbled as he rested his feet.

"Selande and Selengil were right. I'm overworked. I'm going to list my duties to get an overview.

• Protect elves whom are not inherently evil and are also not out to harm others undeserving. Especially the females are the focus.
  • Stop this black gem curse or whatever it is
    • Do my best so Averëon Elestar won't come to irreversible harm. Must exercise caution
    • Plissken is a human and I'm not that much bound by my sworn duty. I still must do my best to avoid unneeded cause of suffering. However, as a human his mind can be examined without the additional risk of Ill-alignment of them.
    • Visit the carving in the Cloakwood mines Plissken found. Face it. Figure out what is behind this all and survive.
    • After surviving the carving, visit the Underdark
      • Ssamath first, for I must see if there is even a single Illithid that might be willing to barter such information in coin
      • If not, then find an Illithid Hive.
        Note to self: Must exercise caution around the Drow, contact Izzi'Irik for help and guideance.
  • Solve the shadow case
    • Help Elvorfiwien
    • Help Laitae
    • Help Auric
• Ensure the victory of the Silverstone over Raugarathisj and his disciples of the Red Dragon and Tiamat.
  • Recruit Dragon Warriors
    • test Oggle Steambottle
  • Complete the shrine of Asgorath
    • Take Mando, Kelburn Ironfaar and maybe Oggle Steambottle if he can prove himself worthy to a gold dragon under Kifel's guideance.
  • Avange Sarah
  • Recruit allies
• Vows of the Avowed
• Ensure safe voyages of the Whistling Wanderess
• Find the meaning of the word "Kirate'ykh"
  • Might be a word from the Old High Wyrm language.

Hoihe finishes collecting the firewood for his make-shift brewery in the cave of his residence in the High Moors and sits down beside a fallen tree trunk he brought inside to use as a desk. He opens his blood-stained journal, casts Prestidigitation on its pages and cleans them. Then he takes a quill and an inkwell and prepares to write with a sigh. He holds onto one of his veins pained, then to the magical scar on his palm. He dismisses the scar by casting the spell stored within on the pages, displacing it for a good minute and a half. In that while he sighs, drinking a potion of cure serious wounds and watches as the scar disappears without a trace. "I should try to make my way south.. despite all the blood I've lost I retained two doses of invisibility and some other spells inside it... No, I rather not. It would be far too risky to pass south without a proper spell-collection at hand at the moment."

Once his journal reappears he takes his quill and begins to scribe.

"
Journal, I record my thoughts in you only when bad things happen apparently. I plan to make that false eventually. I shall record the success of my curing of that foul vile that has stricken Plissken and Averëon. But for now, I must record what is sour.

And it is indeed sour, for I have lost the place I enjoyed the most in the environs of the Sword Coast. Triel has fallen to the black orc horde and I could barely do anything against it. It made me despise my kind, the one whose traits are more apparent. The human-kind. Such lack of unity and greed... All races have them, even my descendants, the silver dragons but they hold back usually and do not do such foolish things as allow themselves to be bribed by the Zhents.

The mercenaries who were hired to help in Triel's defence turned out to be turn-coats. They attacked us from within while we were assaulted by the orcs. I was left alone to fight many of them. I quickly activated the magic stored within my blood and disappeared into thin air. They did not know where I was and I quickly fell back to the fort, and that was my fault. There I was shot by the bolts of our own men, apparently they had a way to see past my illusion. I tried to make for cover but I was quickly overran and began to bleed. By this part of the battle I was grandly out of spells because I did my best to displace the images of our own men and help out with what arsenal I possess magically. I did not have much magic in me to recall enough blood to rejuvenate myself, I only had enough to keep myself from dying and bleeding away. It is what has saved me but is also the reason of my current grief. When Amarven saved me I felt pain in my veins and also all over my body. The excessive stress my veins had to endure from the magical forces was coming back at me and gave me pains. I could barely cast a proper spell, only but a few. Luckily, I managed to keep the enchanted blood within me, so I could activate them to help Amarven, that barbarian of a wild elf and myself to reach Laisren's hold-out.

I remained there with the elves for a while and set up my alchemical apparatus to make some salves to help with infected wounds. Only but a few survived and many were missing even from the people who are known for their grand survival capability. The majority of the Silver Rose was out of our reach, for example. The Order of Radiant Heart had its survivors, and also its missing members. The elves of En Dharasha Everae got off without anything too serious, save for wounds that magic and potions can heal. The elves of Doron Amar got off okay as well. There are exceptions though, like Luthien who has lost her right eye but luckily Amarven recovered it. I feared it may have been gone for good but thankfully, by Correlon and Asgorath, it was not. The same can not be said about the barbarians whose fate I do not know. I saw Lilith get off alright and I pray she make it safely to the south. I also saw Thedran, he has broke his arm. He will get better.

I've had a few surprises, pleasant ones. Valge has returned and took part in the fighting. She made it without injuries I could see. I joined the elven group of En Dharasha Everae on their journey home, splitting off at the High Moors. There I conversed with Valge and Luthien in Draconic, exchanging a few ill-fitting but humorous remarks. I have also gave my salves and potions to Amarven, knowing they can use them better than me. Infections of blood and wound do not concern me, for I can eject them using my blood magic. Amarven reacted curiously to my tribute to her people and gave me a hug. It was the most undivined thing I experienced that day. When I admitted my surprise the elves just grinned.

Blood magic, it saved my life but it's also causing me much trouble these days. The excessive use of blood draughts and scars has made my magic unstable and I can not properly recover my spells. I cast spells that I have not learned or I do not want to instead of the ones I want to. This tends to happen when I'm under great stress.. and I might be. I will have to remain in the north for a few days to regain control over the Weave. I'll also have to see to the magic stored within my veins so that it remains stable. All the bleeding must have wrought havoc upon them.

And humanity, I am starting to despise this bunch of no-good, no sense-of-unity people. Blessed be the exceptions but the majority is as I described.. I can barely wait until I collect 3 000 000 golden coins and have completed the majority of my duties so I can transmute myself into a silver dragon.


I pray to Sehanine Moonbow that she gives me strength on my quest regarding the dark curse.

A Dacino's duty may never end without a success. I am glad I did not swear on my duty regarding Triel else I would have to take my life. Thanks you Asgorath, for the wisdom in this. But I will not stop until I solved the mystery previously mentioned."