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

Decisions...




The cold wind had picked up since she arrived. Tiny snowflakes were traveling in the gusts that swept around her. She did not mind. In fact, she welcomed it.

She removed the wards she had put in place and entered the cave, meandering through the small corridor until she stood in one of the larger rooms. With a simple wave of her hand the cave illuminated with a blue-like arcane light, exposing her private little palace of ice and frost.
After making herself comfortable in one of the chairs she took out the amulet. She let it hoover and turn in front of her. Such a small trinket, so incospicious, yet so much trouble...

They had driven off one of the attacks on the city's walls with her brethren of Dharasha, together with the humans and their allies. Even if they retreated themselves from the council of knowledge and the war council, they could not let them fight alone. It would be their last gift to the human city, however.

With the exception of her own self, of course. The paladin Aelcar had asked her to stand with him once more, on the wall. This fight was different, heavier, more intense. Yet, brave hearts did not give up and fought on. Despite all odds, and the very commanders shouting to retreat inside the inner city, they held the wall. It drained her to her last drop of energy she had. Other parts of the city were not as successful and hordes of undead now entered through the northern breach, pouring in every moment. The defense of the city looked dire. Didn't the elves do enough already? Was this worth even more of her people's blood? Was there even a chance of success? There was no despair, nor other emotions inside her. All was cold logic. A frozen pond.

She knew Kael fought an inner battle. He probably cared little for the city itself or its people, but she knew he loathed leaving their friends and allies alone...and letting Magmire go free. They could have made a tremendous difference in the defence of the city, probably turn the tide of the entire siege. Maybe they still could. Kael or her. Bound by blood, the pact made it so that it could be only one of them. If only they decided to use it. Such a small trinket, so incospicious, yet so much trouble...

She would rather not let Kael use it if she could help it. He had too much anger in him, too much hatred, too much emotion in general. But the alternative was not exactly appealing. What would the consequences be? After everything that happened? It could mean the end of her, and not only that. If anything happened to her, would she not bring another danger to the coast? She was well aware of the potential the archmage had. She was his anchor, his soulmate, his balance. If she was to fall away, she was sure he would take his revenge on everything and everyone directly and indirectly responsible, carelessly slaughtering the innocents in the process...He would challenge mortals and immortals, even the gods themselves. He would stop at nothing to reach his goal then, no matter how destructive, nor dark.

Their friends...death was just one step behind them. The Order of Lions she was part of, the Order of the Silver Rose that had helped her unconditionally back in the Shovotar days, Sir Aelcar himself. Should the city fall, they would all fall with it. She closed her eyes and relaxed back in the chair. She knew what had to be done, it was only logical to do so. The needs of the many, outweight the needs of the few. She opened her eyes and took the amulet out of the air in front of her. Such a small trinket, so incospicious, yet so much trouble...

Hoihe and Mendel have a long talk over wine, inside the Tel'Teukiira (Moonstar) tavern.

The air was so thick with pestskulls that it quickly became hard to see ten paces ahead. Close to the Western Wall's central tower gate, Mendel emerged from the shadows like a Displacer Beast with two long fangs of enchanted steel, and ripped a ten paces radius of them to shreds. He then nodded towards him as he dodged three more diving for him while sheating his blades and extracting two blunt weapons looking like heavy cudgels. He then unleashed a flurry of attacks so fast his movements became a blur, carving himself a path towards the edge of the walls. The Behemoths carrying the bulk of the Undead army attacking the human city were closing in. Good...

Already in proximity of the rampart's edge, using her elemental form to crush enemies by the dozens and subsequently wash their carcasses through the battlements' merlons so as to prevent them from hindering the defenders' movements, Nai fell in beside her beloved, using her formidable spells to ward him against any harm and incinerate everything approaching his blind spots, allowing him to unleash all his devastating offensive power in direction of his chosen attack vector.

On his right side, words of power summoned forth a burst of divine energies burning to ashes an entire cloud of the foul creatures. As the masked figure turned, the smoke cleared to reveal Kirias' shining figure, fully armed and armored, a beacon of light in the Gate's darkest days. He arched an eyebrow towards him, and the priest grinned back, before willing out of existence two more monsters. The Plaguebearers were going to have a bad time, and the thought brought a wan smile on the black wizard's pallid lips.


The chill in the air announced First Mage Ithilwen even before she materialized right in front of him. She had already snared the entire landing section in front of the Behemoths with multiple Web and Grease weaves, slowing to a crawl the invading forces.
"Sorry to disturb your elucubrations, dear. Are you going to stay there in your brooding mood for long? If you have time, it would be advisable to actually enter the fight. The Northern and Southern sections need our assistance. They are being overrun" Her beauty always got him, even when she was...like that.

Sighing deeply and muttering something about young, impatient people, the Master of the Shadow Tower turned towards one of the first few Rotting Corpses that made it through the southern defensive line and glided towards it in a cloud of dark robes. Not hasty. Haste was...well...undignified. What mage needs to run in battle? That reeks of poor planning, limited foresight and an INEXCUSABLE, overall lack of class.

"You"

The rotting corpse turned towards him raising one of its powerful claws to strike. However, the arcane weave enveloped it in its dark embrace right before it could act. The Walking Dead stopped, empty eye-sockets staring at the dark-clad wizard questioningly.

"Very good. Now, off with you: go back to your comrades, and start to hack them to pieces, yes?"

The Undead flanked his former allies, and empowered by its new master's weaves, it shredded a handful of them before they even detected it for the threat it was. In the mayhem, none of the living even noticed. Kael smiled sardonically.

"Come forth, Magmire. Come, and learn how a true Mage of power does battle..."

"It's your money, and your life, old man...nice staff, by the way...if you hand it over now, I'll kill you quickly. I don't want to risk ruining such a piece...must be worth a fortune...". The man grinned.

The dark-robed, hooded figure calmly came to a halt mere paces away from the bandit blocking the way north. The war that devastated the Gate brought this kind of gifts to travellers, of course: the law enforcement assets and resources were focused inward, overseeing the restoration of the city and preventing pillaging and scavenging as much as possible...or at least, limiting it to their own good selves...As a consequence, the roads were left to the wolves. Well, cockroaches, really...

His hooded head raised slightly, two pools of emerald light pointed towards the brigand's face. The dark figure's shape's gaze shifted as he slowly moved his cowled head from the speaker, to the figure behind him. A faint arcane aura emanated from that one. A mageling of sort, then. How amusing...
Right behind him, he could hear the muffled steps of the two hidden ones closing in, almost within striking range now. His pale lips formed a thin, sardonic smile under the mask.

"Open your mouth, old man...don't force me to carve you another..."at that point, the mageling whispered something to his ear, and they both laughed"my friend, here, says you are a sort of mage...an unwarded mage...that would explain the staff, and those runed robes...Tell you what, if you give me all you have, AND your clothes, I am going to let you go...and only cut your tongue. But if yo-

The dark wanderer whispered something, then laughed softly to himself.
His eyes narrowing, the bandit's tone became less condescending, and more threatening:

"I think the grandpa has gone insane. Hey, old man!! Hello? Let me break this down for you: we are armed and ready, and you are alone and unprepared. We've got you. If you don't-

The black wizard raised his left hand, producing a dismissve gesture as he murmured some unintelligible words and the bandit's words died in his throat. Gurgling, his eyes bleeding and fluids pouring from all over his body, he fell to the ground and began contorting himself in excruciating pain.

"Enough".

Before the two aggressors behind him could recover from the sight of their agonizing leader in a pool of his own blood coming out from every orifice, he added: You want my walking stick? Why, of course...Here you go, friend and he let the artifact drop right on him. As soon as the blood-red gem on top of it touched the skin, the outlaw began to wither at alarming speed.

The mageling was the first one to react, using a wand to create an aura of silence all around him. "Good move...", he thought approvingly,...for an ant.. An instant later, the bandit caster exploded in a burst of blood, the dark wizard right behind him and casually adjusting his cape and robes. "Just not quite good enough..."

Finally, the two want-to-be backstabbers forced their weak-willed legs to move, their hearts beating twice as fast as before.

"When will you ever learn..."

Knowing they had been detected, they hastened their pace, now steps away from his spinal cord.

"...that crossing me..."

Their daggers and shortsword had almost completed their deadly arcs.

"...is a mistake that warrants extinction?"

The blades connected. Twice. Three times. The expert cuts and stabs, all hitting vitals, would have ended any of their usual victims, as they had in the years. This time, their target slightly staggered, no blood coming from the entry points. His hands raised once more, tracing a glyph of power as he uttered words of an ancient formula in the arcane language of magic:

"Curse of Years"

He turned towards the dessiccated husks that were his aggressors, stepping over them as he picked up his cane from the corpse of their leader. The Staff of the Invoker pulsed of a renewed, sinister red light. Hungry.

"Is that all you've got? Four cutthroats? Lamentable..."

The Master of the Shadow Tower continued his stroll north, studying the devastation brought by the Blight's invasion with critical eye, and pondering its deeper long-term consequences.

*The Misty forest is buzzing with activity today as Mendel gets some nice gear for Deleniel to wear and keep her safe from harm to Nai's relief. The three stand and talk about a new kitchen for Deleniel and her delicious cooking and baking, to be built in the tavern, saying they will have to begin saving up for a proper oven.*

"As you probably know, though the eras, countless arcanists of power have fallen in pursuit of supreme arcane mastery. Some of the mightiest mages in history, driven by greed, compelled by necessity, desperate to save their loved ones, or themselves, delved deeper and deeper into the secrets of weaving...boldly staring into the abyss until its darkness seeped into them..."

The dark-robed figure spoke softly, yet his voice somehow was clearly audible in spite of the furious roar of the creature behind him. Motionless and inscrutable in the glacial air of the Keep, the black wizard leaned casually on an exotic-looking ebony staff of exquisite make, decorated with crimson inlaid and a blood-red gem mounted on top of it, glowing with a pulsing light...almost hungry...
The dead bodies of the Frost King's retinue were scattered all around him, with his majesty himself blocked inescapably in the force vise he evoked. A wall of flames woven right under it was slowly melting the monster, the excruciating pain adding to his fury and outrage.

"Necromancers, Blood Magi, Demonologists, Diabolists, Witches, Warlocks...contrarily to common knowledge and what the ignorant and simple-minded believe, many of them embraced corruption, damnation and death for the greater good. A noble cause, of sort...but I digress. What does this have to do with me, you might wonder...?!"

The Giant screamed louder, his mighty limbs almost breaking free from the holding spell, the flames still consuming him. The dark wanderer did not seem to notice. He kept speaking in his low whisper, almost to himself

"Absolutely nothing. Yes, I do serve my people, and thus a greater cause. Yes, I turned to less...conventional means in order to increase my already vast power. And yes, some of my actions would probably be deemed...ah...morally questionable by a few overzealous individuals, but there is one huge difference between me and the others...

In the brief pause that followed, the Frost King managed to take two large steps towards him, moving away from the wall of magical fire and with the blade of his immense axe mere paces away from his cowled head. The mage turned towards his royal opponent, two burning pools of emerald light piercing the darkness of his hood's depths and locking into the Giant's eyes.

"The outcome. I will succeed. Unlike my more or less illustrious predecessors, I cannot be stopped. And this partly thanks to you, and your generous donation...ohhh, yes, I forgot to mention: it's full moon tonight..."

His gloved fingers expertly traced glyphs of power in the air, as the ancient formulas he pronounced ignited them with power. The scarlet gem on his staff grew brighter...
Radiating negative energy, the glyphs became a weave, and the weave enveloped the King, slowly starting to transfer his vital strength to the wizard.

Steal Life

Less than a candlemark later, a withered husk with an icy crown laid among his dead retinue. No trace of his treasures, nor his executioner.

A letter send, addressed to the inhabitants of En Dharasha Everae.

Dear friends of Doron Amar,

we are hosting a general meet and greet for the elven community at the Sword Coast, taking place on the balcony area in front of the Jest in Doron Amar. It is inteneded to get to know each other better and each may bring forth his or her individual talents to contribute to a success of this event. Friends are also welcome.

Signed,

Laya,
Cookiemaster of Doron Amar

///Planning to start this on Saturday, 19th march @ 20:00 GMT+0. This is meant as an open event. People may join and head out whenever they like. I'll do my best to bring enough cookies

Subject: Intrigues of the Sword Coast (Player/DM IC RP) - Black Orc Menace

Black Orc Menace

Assembly.

---

Arriving at En Dharasha Everae, she would attempt to find Mendel, Nai or Elindarian. Having made haste over the coast, she searched for at least one of the three. Should she find them, she'd start explaining after having given greetings to her cousin. "I wish to speed the start of this interrogation. Thus it will be two fold. I'm attempting to get all neccesairy support assembled at the Hunters so we may proceed." She would pause for the others to reply. "If you would be ready, there may be others waiting at their compound." Should they be unaware of where it is, she would lead them to it.

Before she departs however, after having heard their answers, she would make two sendings, slighty to the side in a corner.




((to be clear, this is all forum interaction in the links, so everyone could be available without scheduling conflicts.))

A newly arrived sun elf, named Kanai, had been asking after the elves of the North of any kin he finds around. He has asked to meet with any who might introduce him to his local kin.

Kanada wrote:A newly arrived sun elf, named Kanai, had been asking after the elves of the North of any kin he finds around. He has asked to meet with any who might introduce him to his local kin.

Kanada wrote:The sun elf spellblade and wizard Kanai has spoken with Sirion and Elyssa about the Doon Amar community and sent a formal notice to its gate requesting a tour of the mage tower.

Since the elf has already left the village in the Misty Forest, noone would be able to find him

After careful planning, the homeless elven children were succefully teleported to the village in Misty Forest. Much effort was put to welcome the children and raise them in an elven environment, following elven traditions.

The Elves of En Dharasha Everae, heard the rumors about the Dragonspear Castle being infested by Orcs. They all met at the Boareskyr Bridge and quickly travelled to that location by using druidic magic. After fighting the orcs and their leader the elves enter the castle.



Fighting their way thoguh Orcs and Kobolds they explored the area and solved many of the puzzles that led to secret locations with treasure. They could tell though, that the further they went the more dangerous it became. Soon enough they knew why. An intimidating Black Dragon was guarding one of the rooms. It didnt take long for an epic battle to begin. After much fighting and spellcastingm the elves managed to slay the dragon and loot its vast hoard of treasure.



However, that was not the worse of it. One of the corridors led them further below... to an one way portal from another plane.



Not being able to do anything about the portal, the elves decided that it was time to head outside. Even though the portal is still a mystery to them, the Dragonspear Castle became a regular patrol destination for the elves of En Dharasha Everae. Both the Orcs and the Portal are something to keep an eye on.