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

Coreska wrote:Baelather let out a sigh of relief as he made his way towards the Elven settlement, sliding back his hood and letting the mist soak into his hair with a bit of a smile. He muttered something under his breath about how he really needs to get better at discerning paths in forests and that he's been near stone for too long. Taking a quick gaze across the settlement from the entrance he spoke to a ranger before standing against a tree and appearing to converse with himself quietly.

Mendel returns from the South, looking very tired. Still the sight of a new Tel'Quessir inside the village makes him smile. He slowly approaches Baelather, interested to learn what brings him to this secluded village.

// PM me when you are able to meet in game

A group of elven rangers are patrolling the entrance of a cavern at the Misty Forest. They are not allowing anyone to enter or approach too closely. At the same time, at the nearby elven village many rumors circulate about a discovery involving some ancient elven ruins.

That night some N'Tel'Quessir were allowed to stay at the village. Food and water were provided to all of them.

Kaienrai leaned against the rail, steadying himself. With everything going on in the Village, he just needed a moment.

He was home. It was overwhelming and he basked in the joy of it all. But with all good things, business pressed on him and his moment of happiness was cut short, much to his sadness.

News of the attack was still fresh in the village and he sat there, taking it all in, horrified. Eventually, he made his way to find the Selu'Onal whom he was told was busy managing a new discovery. He fondly grasped the hilt of the longsword on his hip...one that served him well and took comfort in knowing that it would find good use with the leader of Dharasha.

He then found his way to Deacon's abode and knocked a few times with no luck.


Everyone is busy with the ongoings and he was foolish enough to try to waste thier time. With a determined nod, he set his own troubles aside and set forth to assist with the efforts.

*Mendel and Nai return to the depths of the Misty Forest to assess the damage done by the undead horde, golems and the lich. *

*Deacon retreats into his mushroom home, seemingly sheltering himself from the world outside*

After getting the scouts' report one thing was certain. The undead hoard was marching slowly but at a steady pace towards the Misty Forest. Many were wondering why the undead army was coming here - as far as they know, there is nothing of great importance in the area. However, most were worried about the survival of their village.

In this time of need, En Dharasha Everaes' allies and friends were all there. The Knights of the Silver Rose, The Order of the Radiant Heart, Druids and Rangers of the Elder Circle, the elves of Doron Amar, the Dwarves of Kraak Helzak, the Lathanderites and the Everwatch Knights. They all gathered to stop the undead and protect the elven village.



Celduil had already scouted the enemy and provided detailed information of their numbers and formation. With the help of the Ahk'Aegis Elindarian a plan was made and presented to those gathered. The allies added their own ideas and they all agreed to a final strategy.

Suddenly, a ranger patrol interrupts the meeting. The enemy has been sighted close to the village... too close to wait any longer. With a plan ready, the allies gathered any supplies that were available and together they marched against the undead army.

They all knew what they were after. The Demi-lich that was controlling the undead and which went inside a cavern. Having gone after it, they realised that the cavern led to an ancient elven library. The demi-lich was searching for something, refusing to reveal what. As expected the confrontation quickly escalated to a fight and the vast numbers of the allies, put the undead to rest with no casualties.

It was decided that elven arcanists should be the ones to research the ruins, to protect any Tel'Quessir secrets. Any information related to the undead threat in the North will be shared with the allies. The entrance was sealed and elven rangers were guarding it at all times, till the time the elves were ready to search it...

He could feel his left sleeve soaked with blood, the words of his kin, his friends, his family, the ones he loved still ringing in his ears. The Agelong. There had been little reason to celebrate in the last couple of years, and right now, more than ever he felt old...much older than even his centuries made him...

He had seen his people suffer, fought to protect them, barely survived...then he had been killed by the power of Shovotar, brought back by love and the Seldarine's powers...changed.

As he gazed upon the vast amount of orcs thirsting his blood, he glanced towards his companions. Each and every one of them felt differently: rage, fury, exhilaration, anticipation, zealous fervor...even pain, and a sense of resignation in one or two...But all of them found a common ground in the steely resolve to hunt and destroy their ancestral enemies. To honor their Father.

As the battle began, arrows flying, lethal spells being woven, steel meeting steel, he stood, taking it all in. A fire spell was absorbed by his wards, while a few of his mirror images were shattered by a volley of arrows coming from the right flank. He ignored both. There was another battle in his mind. One had fought a year and a half ago. One that he concluded alone. It was another place, another life, and another Kael. But the hatred...that was the same, unchanged.

"There is hardly ever anything as pure as hate... "

Invoker wrote:

He watched his companions through one of the tavern's windows and a smile curved his lips. Talking, feasting, comforting each other in the warm light of the burning braziers...the bards' music filling the air as they danced...They looked so happy. So serene. He was glad for them.
He longed for those feelings, and he thought this victory, this revenge, would fix him, bring back what he had lost. Now these people...HIS people...his family...a family he had long sought and finally found, were safe, and free. So why could he not fully enjoy the celebration? Why was this darkness creeping around the edges of his happiness, like a hunter in the night patiently, relentlessly waiting for the firelight to fade?

His sad smile waned, then vanished as he raised his rune-engraved hood and turned away from the window in a single, fluid motion, the power of the persistent wards woven on his robe just as enveloping as his dark cloak, falling in place after swirling behind him. A shadow among shadows, he headed for the edge of Darasha, towards the forest. Once in a secluded glade, he lay in wait, perfectly still...it could be any moment, now...

As the first set of the Alarm weaves he placed on the narrow path connecting the High Moor to the Misty Forest alerted him, he snatched the Weave and almost instantly a slice in the fabric of space opened in front of him. He quickly entered the Gate, and flames preceded him out on the other side as he whispered in the arcane language of magic "Killing Rampart". The enormous wall of flames he evoked cut the large orc party's retreat, leaving them no other choice but to face him or die a fiery death. Even if battle weary, wounded, with their morale broken, he knew they would fight him. Just like he knew they would not have the time to regret not jumping into the fire in the first place...

He fed his emotions to the darkness within him, as he uttered in a blank voice: "Grief Elementals". When dawn would come, nothing would be left of the savage mosters but ashes in the wind...

As the world exploded around him, Archmage Kael of the fallen Kalinor, now Dharashan in body and soul, stepped forward into the inferno his companions were already experiencing for endless seconds. He began weaving, aiming certain spells towards key targets like powerful shamans, and others at the largest formations of orcs he could spot, maximising the level of destruction.

And by the time it was over, the orcs had realized why they called him Kor'Vain...

The elves of En Dharasha Everae and Doron Amar, were all gathered at the small village in the Misty Forest, to celebrate The Agelong. Its mystical atmosphere was perfectly suited for this celebration and its close proximity to orcish war bands was ideal for the battle to come.

Clerics, mages, druids, warriors rangers.... They all formed a circle while the two priests of Corellon - Kirias and Baelather - chanted lowly. Once the circle was formed and after Kirias blessed those gathered, Baelather pulled a ritualistic obsidian blade. Each elf, in turn was cutting his palms, letting the blood flow to the ground the same way Their Father bled upon their creation.



With their heads lowered they were listening to the priests prayers. After a moment of silence they gathered their weapons and let the rangers guide them to the nearest Orcish patrol. It wasnt too long till a large group of Orcs were founded. They all charged against their eternal enemy - with no strategy and no preparation. It was a brutal and bloody battle. Spells, arrows and swords were all efficently used to swiftly kill the orcs and shed their blood to the ground.

Finally, after the last orc was slain, the elves standing on top of the hill, were looking at their souroundings. Orcish corpses and blood was everywhere. Most elves were filled with sensations of satisfaction and gratitude towards Their Father...

// Now I may say looking at the picture... did anyone stated elves were good fairy bloody folk?:)

Shad wrote:// Now I may say looking at the picture... did anyone stated elves were good fairy bloody folk?:)

///Nothing of the sort, human. I might have mentioned before we are intolerant, violent, brooding and of course superior to anybody else in every possible way...

Even the most battle-hardened individuals weep in the shadow of terror cast by the Elv-....me. By me. My friends here are actually pleasant fellows, as a matter of fact...

The Search... (Part IV)


'There is not much to say Kael. I know as much as you do. Aza never spoke of someone called Jay. Nor of a 'she' that is supposed to be after me.' She tiredly turned her head towards him. 'We should move back. Perhaps we can still be on time to aid our brothers and sisters in the battle.

The archmage pondered for a moment, his gaze fixed on the broken fragments on the ground but obviously looking far, far beyond the actual scene. After interminable moments, he finally spoke in a soft whisper:
Unless...Aza also had no idea about this, or at least not all the pieces of the Mosaic...What i- Ithilwen...?
He could already hear her footsteps getting farther. Muttering a potent curse into a fortunately long-dead language, he paced to follow her once again...


Once outside she welcomed the cold wind, the few snowflakes falling down and touching her face. She loved this place, she always had. It was a place she could return to in the past, a safe haven. But now it no longer was. She recovered the beacon she placed not too far away from the cave complex. It was useless now the sphere had been broken anyway. As she raised herself from the frozen floor and took a few steps she sensed something with her gift. After lingering for only a moment, as she determined where it came from, she took a few steps forward. She turned around to search for Kael. The snowfall had picked up and it made it difficult to see. She saw his dark form plowing through the snow. She raised her voice somewhat.

'I sense something here, someone teleported from this location. It is old but the magical residue is still strong.'

Staggering towards her through the deep snow, which did not do much to improve his already killing mood at all, he already knew what she would say before he even made out the words she was screaming to him. After all, it did not take the First Mage of Dharasha or its Loremaster to sense what had happened. The fading weave had been cast by a considerably powerful individual. Nowhere near his own level, of course...but then, who was?!

Yes...I can feel it.

She knelt down. Yes, this had been someone with considerable power. She didn't believe in coincidences. This desolate place had been wandered by very few only. She spoke some words in the ancient arcane language as she seized the Weave to try and trace the teleportation. What she sensed, she didn't like one bit.

'Amn... By the Seldarine this leads to Amn...'

She watched towards Kael for confirmation, inwardly hoping she had her directions mixed up this time.

Wait, don't tell me: Athkatla, here we come...?!

He chuckled sarcastically, but there was no mirth in his laughter. Not in his eyes. Especially not in his heart. All of a sudden, he felt bone-weary, and found himself longing for that very goblet of wine he always tried with all his might to avoid...

-Recited to the children of the Misty, while the Elder's were out on the Agelong.