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

Despite the troubles in the North and the Undead threat, a group of elves can be seen celebrating inside the Tel'Teukiira Tavern. A new Tel'Quessir, a ranger of Rillifane Rallathil, has joined the village and after showing Lucan around, Deleniel, Raven, Nai and Mendel visited the tavern for some drinks. Everyone is keen to learn more about Lucan, especially Mendel since Lucan reminds him of himself, when he first arrived on the Sword Coast

After a meeting with the Seluonal in the council chambers, Aeili made her way to the Arcane Study to briefly look for implements pertaining to the apothecary's craft. Content with what she found there she knocked at the door of the First Mage to she if she was in.

Some time after Aeili could be seen leaving the Arcane Study, parchment in hand, which she took downstairs and hung above the water fountain outside the Tel'Teukiira Tavern.


The priestess would later be seen discussing the collection of good quality clay and river stones with some of the rangers who approached her before she returned to the Arcane Study.

After reading the parchment that Aeili hung above the water fountain, Mendel makes certain that every ranger is aware of it and ask them to look for the herbal medicines on the list. Having some time he asks Nai and Lucan, the most recent ranger that joined their ranks, to join him on a patrol.

While on patrol they showed Lucan the shrines that the rangers and druids take care of. The first they visited was the shrine of Silvanus. Nai taught Lucan how to collect the leaves from medicinal plants.



The shrine of Mielikki was the next stop. After letting Lucan hunt those goblins around the shrine they let him collect the leaves on his own



On their way back to Misty Forest, Lucan was asked to gather as much healing moss he could find deep inside the Hiltop Ruins and meet them at the village. While back on the vilalge Nai was preparing the leaves to give them to Aeili, while waiting for Lucan to return.

A letter arrives for the Archmage Kael, brought by an unseen messenger, which departs leaving a cold puff of air and the lingering sound of falling icicles.

The scroll bears the the seal of the elven house Avlanti.

//pm sent

At the edge of En Dharasha Everae the turquoise robed Mystran stood upon the path leading from the forest into the village. For now it was still peaceful, serene, tranquil. Crystal clear water continued to tumble over the edge of the ridge and into the pool below. It was her favourite spot of all in the village and her lips creased into that familiar, faint smile which was often present upon her face. With a turn of the head her long golden hair caught the glimmer of sunlight peeking through the canopy of trees about the glade. She moved slightly out of sight of the rangers and took hold of the hands of a human, a man, who was standing there.

"This is where I live, Charraj. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

He nodded in assent, his mouth gaping open at the splendour and natural beauty of the village.

"I cannot take you in just now. I will have to ask the elders. They do not like outsiders having knowledge of this place, but I just could not withhold it from you," she said softly as her eyes met his. He embraced her petite figure and their lips locked in a kiss. The two exchanged a few more words before he eventually turned, with great hesitation and deliberation, back towards the grove of the Great Tree in the Misty Forest. She watched him until he was out of sight, following him ten or twenty feet towards the gorge which lead out of the place. Her heart was skipping within her chest as she turned back towards En Dharasha; her steps were slow, gentle, meditative.

Having returned from her overnight stay in Baldur's Gate, the priestess of Mystra resumed her life of busyness in the village. It would not be long before she could be seen overseeing the construction of a simple wood-fired kiln, built of large river stones and caulked with an adobe mixture of clay and dried grass. Several of the villagers would help her with its construction, especially lifting the stones into place.



Once the kiln was ready Aeili then began to instruct the rangers in the construction of round wooden potter's wheels, to be spun by hand. It would be a several days-long project but once complete Aeili sought to gather any of the local elves and the children so as to instruct them in the process of creating small clay vials. The rangers had collected bark from any cork oaks to be found in the forest, so that it could be carved into suitable stoppers for the vials. She then began to instruct a select group of interested women in the procedures of processing of the herbal medicines collected by the rangers.

The Arcane Study would begin to clink and clatter with the sounds of mortars and pestles grinding and crushing leaves and berries, cauldrons and pots bubbling with fragrant medicines. Outside in the village the laughter of children wafted through the glade as they happily toiled with the clay, throwing significant portions of it at one another before being told off and reminded of the importance of the task at hand.

Soon enough, boxes of corked vials began to be sorted into wooden crates with sphagnum moss stuffed between them to prevent them from moving or tipping, in addition to their purpose to be used as emergency bandages. En Dharasha Everae would be ready should war arrive at its doorstep.

While deep in reverie after an exhausting day of work the priestess of Mystra received a vision in the dark of the night. Being an experienced diviner she followed the details of the vision, although not without great trepidation and fear for what she saw. Her heart raced, her breaths were shallow and as the vision began to recede she immediately jolted awake with a loud gasp for breath, a sound which was quickly followed by the sound of flesh upon wood as her weakened frame fell upon the floor of her room.

After several minutes of hyperventilation, Aeili began to recover her composure and state of mind. With some effort she arose and stumbled off towards the residence of the Selu'Onal.

"A vision, Mendel! I have seen a vision! An ill omen sent by the gods!" she cried outside his door as she waited for him to stir from his reverie.

Mendel hearing Aeili's shouts, opens the door to see what is going on. He has never seen her in this condition before so he could tell there was something important she needed to tell him

"Please sister, come inside" Says to her as he opens the door to his office wider.

"There is some tea for you on the desk, unless you prefer something stronger" he points to the wine cabinet, very proud of his wine collection. He then sits behind his desk and asks Aeili to do the same.

"So... what made you run all this way here?"

"I. . . I saw. . . I saw the armies of undead marching across the lands, and everything that they touched turned into a great fetid rot," she replied with accompanying expressions of concern and worry.

"Four of them stood out in particular: there was a massive skeleton with a greataxe, as well as a bony abomination driven mad, and another skeleton in fine purple robes leading a force of drowned zombies. Along the fringe of the vision a vampire moved in the shadows alongside other creatures, but they were all apparent, inconspicuous," she continued. She was not quite looking at Mendel, instead staring at an emptiness just to his right side as she recalled her vision.

"But there was something else. . . something else that Mystra wanted me to see but I could not see it. Something dark, enigmatic, brooding, just beyond the reach of my sight. Something emanated unbridled plague, disease and rot. . . I don't know. I could see no further; the vision faded and I stumbled out of my reverie and fell to the ground, gasping for breath. I can only suppose it was Talona herself who prevented me from seeing more."

"Something is stirring, something not yet seen. I will try to divine further clues, but the overall sense I have is one of peril for this region. I felt I needed to tell you immediately. . ." she concluded, finally turning her seemingly absent emerald eyes slowly towards Mendel.

*Nai sits near Mendel listening to the story with wide caring eyes, wondering what to make of it. She offers her some fruit and pours some tea for her, looking then at Mendel questioningly to hear what he has to say about it.*

"Finally!"

He grinned. An evil grin, sinister and joyous, in stark contrast with the reactions of his companions: Vincent and Deleniel's widening eyes...Raven's incredulous "what the...?"...Bathsheba's scream of terror...Ithilwen's frozen, blank mask, her attention all focused on the object lying in the long-dead Giant's grip...Nai's urgent "We gots company!!"...Faelwen's desperate "Oh Hells...really?!?!"....Nymmestra's hanging mouth...or even Eleanor's simple, level stare towards the monster.

Right beside him, with the corner of his bloodshot emerald eye he could see Mendel walking to his side, his own lips curved:"...finally?!"he repeated, a disbelieving chuckle escaping him. The Archmage's grin broadened further.

The creature's massive body emerged from the shadows, now fully visible despite the gaseous haze. Each of its booming steps a death knell, its huge wings scraping against both sides of the large cavern, its voice a guttural symphony of fear:

"AT LONG LAST. THIEVES BURIED AMONG THIEVES."

Cultists began to mass around it, pouring from its sides as if extensions of the long shadow it cast. Meanwhile, the Undead corpses of a large number of deceased explorers came from behind, cutting any chance of retreat. But the dark wizard had no intention to flee...

"THERE IS NO ESCAPE"

He heard one of his allies scream "No...NO!" as he replied:

"Yes..."no escape for you...small cave, your men all around you...I doubt you'll be able to run away, this time...

As the banter continued a while longer, he could see Ithilwen using her power over cold to break the skeletal giant's icy grip and recover what they were looking for...what EVERYONE was looking for...Everyone but HIM: what "Kor'Vain" was looking for stood right in front of him. It was massive, dead, rotting, ugly and winged. It was a monster, just like him. It was wonderful...an enemy requiring all of his power. Finally...

"YOU WILL ROT FOR AS LONG AS YOU HAVE LIVED. NOW. LIE DOWN, AND DIE"

As he lifted his hands, reagents already flying through the acrid mist, he whisperedYou and your friends are the only ones who are going to die...and you're already rotting...

The battle began. And it was brutal. Waves upon waves of crazed, bloodthirsty cultists and their leader, Brann, the Angel of Decay on their front...a relentless army of decaying corpses approaching their rear. Steel flashed, Nai's fangs snapped, destructive weaves followed one another on both battlefronts. Screams of agony, corpses shattered, immense powers bent to mortal will. It was glorious. It was perfect.

And then, it was over. The bodies, fresh and long dead, equally butchered. The Angel of Decay fell with its back to them, trying to flee. The Archmage moved towards it, stepping on its head and crushing it beneath his heel:

"As I said...nobody here is going to die, aside from you. You thought you were special, but you are nothing...just another disappointment"

He should have felt relieved, like his companions. Joyous for the great victory. Happy to breathe relatively fresh air again. But the only thing he felt as he walked away from the burning remains of Harrad's Rest, after having personally torched the place, was longing. He longed to meet this Blight. He longed to crush him underfoot, just like he had done with his pet...

"Soon enough...you can't hide from me forever...and then, we will see who's the real monster..."

After their last meeting, Velaris leaves the village with a purposeful stride, questions flowing through his head...

"Who are these Ebon Blades, what is their intention toward the People? Are they for good or ill?"

The next few days pass as the sun elf drifts through the lands to the south, gathering information on this mercenary group. Some good, some bad...but that is true of most mercenary bands.
Other questions form in his mind that need answers, so he cloaks himself and walks unseen amongst the city folk, through the wilderness, and where he finds common folk gathered.

"What are their connections, who are they tied to?"
"How far must we go to protect ourselves?"

He frowns with worry for the young elves he now feels responsible for...then suddenly a new question forms in his mind and he cannot help but smile and chuckling softly speaks the words aloud...

"How do I keep Kael and Nai from killing them all?"

His energy renewed, he takes up a quill and starts writing his latest report. When finished, he summons a small imp made of ice to take the message to Mendel.

He sits back and tips back the last of a small flask he's been testing, and rising, heads over to his alchemist table to continue brewing more for Mendel, his leader, his friend...

//pm sent

Tirion, Nai and Mendel spent a lot of time talking inside the Seluonal's office. When the come out, they all seem in good spirits, however Tirion, carrying his travelling pack is saying goodbye to those around the village, then using the portal exits the village.

When Mendel or Nai are asked about Tirion, they say that he was send to Calimshan to retrieve an item for Mendel and that it might take some time till Tirion gets back.

He was falling. His weave had killed or incapacitated many of the ambushers, but it had not been enough. Not enough...
Mendel had fallen. Nai had fallen. All the members of his new family had been slain by one of the Trickster's minions or the other. Only Celundel and Ithilwen were safe, vanished into the shadows, and himself...well, till now.

Another corpse on the battlefield...

The fall lasted forever, and then some more. But all along, the pain was gone. And with it, everything else. He was still falling, but his spirit had already moved on. He looked back on his mortally wounded, frail self...

Another corpse...just another corpse...

...and for the first time since Kalinor was destroyed, and all those he loved slain, he felt relieved. He was embracing death, welcoming it. No more suffering...he had avenged Kalinor, and defended Dharasha more than once. No reason to linger anymore...

Another corpse...another failure...

...and fail, he did. Not in death, but right before. He allowed his friends to be harmed...how could he? How could his power be insufficient? How could it have been not enough?

All your power. All your studies. All your talent...and yet... Not enough. Simply not enough...

Archmage Kael of the fallen Kalinor, now defender of Dharasha, Master of the Shadow Tower and one of the most prominent mages of the Coast and beyond snapped out of reverie and stood. Half of the furnitures in his room atop the Bridgefort ruins had been deleted by a disintegration weave: his own...

The elves of En Dharsha may notice that a trio of humans along with an elf have camped a distance away from their village at a very large tree stump. It would seem that Herran has been escorted there by Nea, Ameris and Telia. Word has been sent to the village by Nea, of their arrival...