Derik Ranloss, Caravan Guard and Sellsword.

[artemitavik]

Standing on the shore of the beach at Ulgoth's, Derik looked out over the grey sky and rolling waves of the winter ocean in storm. Rain pelted down, but his hood was up and cloak was on, so for the most part water soughed off the water-repellent scales from the giant snake on the outer lining. He watched the tide slowly come in during the storm, whitecaps forming further out with the larger waves.

He was quite fond of watching the waves, actually. Having grown up inland in foothills, the largest nearby body of water was a sizable pond that was referred to as a "lake". The vastness and sheer scope of the sea and ocean still held a fair bit of appeal to him, hence he came here often to watch the waves despite the weather.

"Well, another year older today..." he spoke to the wind. "Another year more or less alone. Lylan would probably be smacking me for saying that, because she's there, Niy's there, and of course I can always finalize things and move to the Moonshaes with the Clan but," He pauses with a sigh, "it's just not quite the same."

"No matter what I do, can't seem to get things back on track. The Anchor stands more or less idle, the Foundation has had a great surge, but is floundering on and off again. At least the gods are back where they belong and keeping things more or less normal." He chuckles quietly "And at least I'm still alive, right?" He continues to ask the wind.

He chuckles again, perhaps a little bitterly. "Gods, I can't even get killed properly."

A glance over to his left at the wrecked boat on the shore and the right to the empty, bare sand with a longing look, then a sigh as he looks back out to sea. "I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to be accomplishing anymore. Why am I holding on so tightly? What am I holding onto?"

Another bitter chuckle at his self-reflection and he turns to go, heading through the town to the pub that is the Last Anchor on the far side of the vilage.

[artemitavik]

As had become more or less his tradition when he was feeling contemplative, Derik went to the beach at Ulgoth's Beard. This time he carried a small cake with a single candle, a bottle, and a glass.

Setting them down on one of the logs used as benches, he lit the candle and poured the contents of the bottle, a high-grade hard cider, into the glass. He sat down and watched the setting for a few moments.

"Happy Birthday, Gem." He spoke to the air. "I hope you're at least partially enjoying yourself out there today." He sighed and then chuckled.

"Was moping in new the new outpost yesterday, Lylan and Niy came by and was having none of it. Sere and Hera showed up later. You'd like Sera, skittish little tiefling girl, getting better though. Pretty good at the lute. You'd likely have adopted her in about 3 seconds. Hera is a ex-courtesan, also a tiefling I think? Pretty sure it's ex-. Anyhow, they all randomly showed up and made me at least pretend to enjoy the evening." He chuckles quietly to himself again.

He falls silent, watching now the waves past the burning candle. "Believe it or not, I even asked a girl on a date. I'm not expecting that to go anywhere though. Just struck me that she seemed to never have been on a excursion without expectations, and never as herself and as a person it appears. Always the toy, the decoration. Felt she needed to be shown at least once what it would be like to do something with someone with no expectations. We're going fishing of all things, then a meal. Hera's apparently never fished before."

Derik fall silent again, once more watching the waves and the candle burning down.

"Happy Birthday my Strength. I miss you. I wish I could join you... but it's not time yet..."

A few more minutes of silence and Derik stands, walking back to the Anchor. The cider and cake are left where they are.

[artemitavik]

The soft, warm late spring evening in Ulgoth's once more sees Derik Ranloss sitting, staring out at the water, this time up on the cliff.

"Hey Gem..." He says to the air, once more placing a cake with a small candle in it and an open cider on the ground. He lit the candle, watching it burn for a moment.

"Sorry I haven't been around much. Been a crazy year. Happy birthday. I know whatever you're doing in the Veil, you've probably adopted half the wayward spirits by now." He chuckles quietly "About to walk into a huge mess myself. Castus the Fallen Celestial... was the Inquisition's perfect weapon against mages in Amn until he lost his mind even more than them. Now he's crusading to fight the gods and end all magic using his anti-magic ability and a bunch of us are going out to fight him. Should be a lovely, chaotic bloodbath I'm sure. Especially when a third or fourth faction shows up like I'm sure it will, and then there will be a fight after the fight."

"I'm told by the Seer, um, what's her name... Linthiel? Something like that... that the ability isn't actually his but some spirit guide he's absorbed. Perhaps that'll help if it's separated. Maybe not. Plans are in motion on both sides. It's going to get insane fast. Might be seeing you soon I suppose." He laughs a little bittersweet.

"You'd be proud of Lylan. She's gotten her head on straight now. All responsible doing stuff to help people, but still with a flair of 'ooh, that's shiny, what's that?' every now and then. Grown up a lot. Haven't seen Teris in ages, who knows what he's up to? Hera's off on whatever it is she's doing now. Adrian is Adrian... not sure you ever met him in this life, actually. Things have gotten a little blurred of late. Rather tired actually."

"Again. Happy birthday. I know none of that matters in the Veil, timeless, spaceless, an existence of mind, will, and dream. But hey... to us mere mortals they can't be important." He smiles to himself a moment. "To some of us... /you/ are still important."

"Love you. Miss you."

He falls silent, watching the waves. The candle burns down all the way to the cupcake and is snuffed.

It and the drink are left there when he eventually departs, hours after the stars come out, as is his custom.

[artemitavik]

The battle for Ulgoth's Beard finally started, the massive group of adventurers following the Damn of Tyr that was in charge while General Scar and the Flaming Fist held the fall-back points.

To say it was chaotic was an understatement. Derik barely remembered half of what was going on, the battle was so large and the enemies numerous. First there was the skirmishers, some quasits and vroks, then the wave of aquatic balors, that ended in one of the two demon commanders remaining being downed. All this took place along the river

When the group finally made it to the town itself they were greeted with an entrenched front line of demons. That was quickly destroyed though, but not by the adventurers. but by the Hell-fire dragon that was nesting in the area near Baldur's Gate. A creature specializing in political destabilizations and take overs, it raved that the city belonged to it, and strafed the demon line, then left. This cleared a path for the adventurers to once again engage in the heavy shock troops of balors, vroks, the drowned, and eventually massive Marliith that commanded it all.

Eventually it was done. Details blurred in his mind. Derik found himself by the ruins of the Anchor, his hand on the sign post that was still standing... somehow.

"I'm sorry Gem... I tried. I really did..." he spoke to the air. There were people around him, they were speaking. Something. He couldn't focus. Not sure who was there saying what...

"I would go to the graveyard, but I'm not sure I could handle the judgement..." He announced to whoever it was that was with him. He headed back towards the Gate.

"Thank you." Said to Maevyn, the last thing he really remembered for a while. He was drained. Tired. Instinct took over.

Instinct. And rage. So much rage. At the Coast. At the gods. At himself.

The rest was kind of even more a blur. There was... a large field? Gnolls, definitely gnolls. Some ruins. Really tall. Then wyverns. Ooh, roasted wyvern. That sounded delicious... and... minotaurs? Why are there minotaurs? Ok, they're taking swings, fine, they can die too...

Eventually he found himself back at the Foundation, in the Warrior's Rest. He was covered in dried blood of multiple colors. People might have said something to him, Derik wasn't sure. But he was tired, and there was a room with a bed here.