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

Rhys leaves the Lizard cave in Amn bidding farewell to Dajala. The night had been a long one and the past came back to haunt them both, The plane of negative energy is a cruel place and did not spare either of them from the pain of there pasts. So as Rhys arrived in Berogost he found him self an Inn and started to write

"To tell the story of me, you must first tell the story of my grandfather. Aelreth Feivra was a swordsman born in MythDrannor, the story goes as am told that Aelreth would of been a fine elven mage but just dident take the interest in the art. He loved his sword and trained often in it, he was a brave honest elf, and happy with out fail, he married and had children before the end. Now must know where the story will turn form here, The Weeping war came, the evacuation of my grandmother and child version of my father, and all other non combatants. In the end Aelreth stood with 3000 brave elfs and died in the final battle.

My parents tell me that they met on the road while evacuation MythDrannor as children they grow up and fell in love, and so my story starts. I was Born Rhys Feivra in the city of Silverymoon, my parants picked this city to recapture the glory of MythDrannor and in my opinion if MythDrannor was half as good as Silverymoon it must of been an amazing place. We lived in a little elven section of the city near Everdusk temple, i remember my time in Everdusk studying the Seldarine, i often thought of becoming a Cleric, but magic was in my blood and there was no better city to be a mage. even at the youngest years of my life i seemed to be a lonely child, never getting along with others children and never keeping any friends.

I was enrolled in The Lady's Collage of Silverymoon with around 80 other students, that's when i started to learn real magic and the knowledge to back it up....It is also when my heart started to fall, as i was a very lonely elf and kept secluding my self more and more, to this day i could never understand why i was the way i was back then, in the end the only thing i can think of is i made my self lonely that made me sad and then i got more lonely and secluded. The teachers give me projects and i find my self a nice spot near the Moon bridge with a bag full of books till i learned all i needed to complete my project. I did my best work in Transmutation magic and decided i study that school till i mastered it.

So life went on for some time, then everything changed as it so often does. The elven retreat was in full motion, in fact it still is, and my parents felt the call of Evermeet, I was heartbroken, i had no wish to leave to run like a coward, or so i thought, I still had too much to learn from this land and like my grandfather wanted to stay with it till the end. When i told my parents this, they where less then happy, They where loving parents no where near the best but no where near the worst parents to be born too. To a sun elf family comes first...but i had not connections with my family, and so my mother in a rage gave me a slap across the face, the only time she had ever done such, and that was it we bid our farewells. For the first time i was truly alone so i packed my things and bid farewell to Silverymoon, i needed to see this land that so many elves where willing to leave behind for myself. I ended up on the sword coast, then boulders gate making a living as an adventure, that's where i met Dajala and was invited to join Doron Amar, and so my goal was born, to change this land, just like my Transmutation magic i was going change this land to a place where an elven retreat was no longer needed and i was going to change myself, no longer lonely, no longer with no connections to family, for i had a new one in Doron Amar."

Rhys put his quill away finished and happy with his work he sticks the paper in a pile with others and finds peace, as the so called harsh memory's of his past the Negative plane showed him fade from his mind

Rhys sits in the temple of Tyr with far to much free time to himself, finding a table and chair he sits and empty's his backpack onto the table, from one pocket a cat jumps out of what seems like nowhere, Rhys gives a smile to his Familiar who then climbs a window and jumps outside to roam the street. With quill and paper in front of him he once again starts to write about himself, something he has not done in a long time.

"I am Rhys Feivra, Ive spent a hundred years traveling the land, more often times then not alone. It was Dajala Silverleaf who made me stop in this spot, and a wizard, whos names becomes harder to remember each day. Perhaps its for the best, it was the Balor he summoned that made me notice how simple it is to fall into evil magic.

Since leaving Silverymoon Ive never been so happy to stay in one place, i can make a real change here. It started with Doron Amar, i saw my goal in life put into a plane, i wanted to use my magic to change the world, an arrogant goal that only a sun elf would come up with am sure, but i did not care it was something to spend my life trying for. The same feeling i had looking at the moon bridge in Silverymoon i felt in this idea...it was pure beauty.

With someplace to defend, i can truly understand the feelings of my grandfather Aelreth Feivra, some days when no one is looking i will take my own elven blade, enchant it with a sprinkle of lime dust, and swing it in the air like an Ardavanshee with his first sword.

Then theirs the Academy, to be honest the idea at first was not mine, i thought it was given to me as a way to keep me out of Doron Amar politics after the orc tribe folly. I did what i always do, i took it, and changed it into the most powerful tool i could think of working. Magic Schools are nothing new too me, i studied at the Lady's Collage of Silverymoon, Ive been in love with the ideas of the Seven Wizard's School of old Myth Drannor as soon as i could read. The end game for the academy can be set into two ideas. The first is to tap into young mages in the area of any creed and teach them as much about the weave, its history, and safe use as i could. It has always saddens me to see wizards learn a fireball spell before they even know the nature of the weave. The second part of my plan was to make the academy into a very visible part of Doron Amar, a non hostile face, at least as non hostile mages can be. This would gain Doron Amar much word of mouth, as well as gain respect from the other groups in the area. Sadly being visible also makes you a target.

I recall to a time of my first Mage Fair. There where two teachers seeking apprentices, it was not long till the two masters of the Art took to the arena. i asked a bystander why they duel? and he told me "because the winner is more likely to gain more students" "and the loser?" i ask, and the man said "well hes going to learn his rivals techniques and spells and become a better teacher."

Rhys then enters his Reverie, leaving his notes on the table.

Rhys sits at the top of his tower, starring into the void. He feels the presence of his familiar as it enters the room to join him. He sits down and starts to write.

"Silverymoon was a wonderful city, i was so young in the days of my study in that fair city. I lived in a very elven section of the city, next to Everdusk temple, the temple for the Seldrine, but that did not change the fact that this was a mostly human city. By the time i came of age, so many in the city had died. It still amazes me....humans how a whole generation just died while i was coming of age. Simple people living simple lives. This was the early days of my life.

Then there's the me, here and now. I sit at the top of a tower that i run. People call me master, it ashames me of how much i enjoy that. Ive killed monsters, i teach students, and i build. If there's one trait that's been a blessing and a burden in my life it have to be my empathy. Ive always had the ability to understand the pain of other people, yet never enough power to help them. If used this gift to earn allys, to respect my foes even as i slay them, and to just simply wallow in self pity at times.

Those young Silverymoon nights, i always spend them under the Moon Bridge, to cry or to study that was my sanctuary. Reading, reading and reading...oh how i enjoyed loseing my self in such things, to try and understand the thoughts and mind of mages, and heroes of old. To figure out the mystery of the weave, to understand the very nature of the Raw Magic that gives the weave its power. Is this why i isolated myself? who can say.

Ive been asked many times...Do elves dream? The answer is less simple then a yes or no. Elves have the ability to relive there life in there Revere. Sometimes they pick such memory, other times the subconscious picks for them. They even have the power to see the weave. Rith says am a glutton for punishment, she has no idea how right she is, for in my Revere i relive my mistakes, the people i killed, and people i lost. I have no wish to ever forget such things, this is why am alive after all, to change the future for the better. I will build on the past, so tomorrow will be magical."

Rhys then closes his journal, leaves it on his desk and walks out the building, Familiar in tow.

The raid on the temple of Bane was now over, the excitement died down, and everyone returned to there own homes. Rhys sat down at his desk, letting out a cough here or there, from the inhaling of the black smoke the fire created. He lifts his pen and starts to write.

"What an empty victory, did we win only because we did not lose? Must of the church got away a long time ago, It seems Vallie's Master with them. There where very little issues, formation somehow managed to keep throughout the raid. The front line ran though our foes with ease. Then the fires started, it brings back memory's of the first Doron Amar, burn what we cant keep so our foes cant have them. There is an irony to it being used on us.

I write this hoping i made the right decisions so far. My students are so broken, perhaps am simply attracted to such people. Vallie now has to live with her masters soul out there somewhere, Bre is losing his mind, Echo is losing her sense of self, and Eli is heartbroken. What would Dajala Silverleaf do? Yes Dajala Silverleaf the elf i followed around like a puppy for so long, the elf that's name will bring up so many hurtful memory in my friends. I loved her, she was my young lady, my master, and my Friend. Perhaps i loved her even more then that. I was never a leader, i was the person who make leaders, the person who stood a step away from a leader pushing them forever upward, its what my house has done for generations.

Transmutation, the art of changing one thing into another. I picked this school because i wanted to change the world. One step at a time, one small change turning into large change over time. The truth is, Ive always been easily effected by what others think of me. When Rith looks at me with anger or sadness it hurts, that elf could control my every action with a stare. Then theirs Vallie, so strong willed, but easy to please, id fight for her smile. So many people i cant let down. So ill keep walking forward, ill admit my mistakes when they happen, and keep working to a better future."

Rhys then places his notebook on his desk before going out side for some air.

Rhys once again finds time to sit down and write

"Theres a time in my life i rarely talk about, the time from when i left Silverymoon, till i made it to Doron Amar. Perhaps its because i was young, restless, and foolish. I dident leave Silverymoon empty handed, i had some coin i saved up and a few wands given to me by my family and teachers. To a young wizard, wands and scroll are your lifeblood, they may very well be the difference between life and death on the road. I decided to travel east, to Sundabar, on the Silvermoon pass. With a few coins i traveled with a merchant caravan protected by hired guards. Perhaps not the most exciting and brave way to travel but i was more then happy with it. I quickly learned that reading and walking at the same time was an awful idea so i paid my way onto a wagon.

If one where to ask what my first thoughts where when i left the safety of Silverymoon i tell them the truth...it was cold. Yes i never felt more cold then on that road for the first time, Cloak or fire failed to warm me. The rest of the caravan barely spoke to me, unaccustomed to an elf. Some where not even aware i spoke common, or that i grow up in a mostly human city. So i did what i always did in such lonely moments, i watched the beautiful land, and read.

There is one event on the road i wish to speak of, in the many days of travel it took to reach Sunsabar. The first time ive ever saw undead was on that road. Highway bandits are not uncommon in most any road in Faerun. Most stay away from guarded coaravans like the one i road with but this group had a powerful and arrogant leader. So it was, another cold and lonely night when a group of bandits attacked, It started with a thud and a slice before one of the hired guards yelled of the attack. I had no weapons and only two wands at my hips, one of magic missile, and another of Shield. I quickly ran to the others, letting the guards do there job, they must of been well paid for they did it well. The fight was going well till there dark leader showed his face. I could see right away he was some kind of mage, he carried a wand at his hip and held a staff in his hand. It was hard to call this man human, he looked worn and almost dead, he was covered in dirt and grime, his hair looked cut with a dagger and wore a robe torn to rags. He looked over his fallen comrades, i saw no sorrow in his eyes. Out of the shadows they came, two monsters of humans, there eyes dead, there skin decayed....and most of all the smell, i remember that rotted smell more then anything else. I pulled my Magic Missile wand from my hip in fear, i never felt such fear. The merchants looked just as worried and fearful, more then one symbol of the gods where held in there hands. The hired guards? They acted so fast, a sling throw a rock right at the necromancers head before he even had a chance to chant a spell, then came the chopping of limbs from the monsters, and the crunch of bone being smashed. The man was slain, so where his undead, and a fire was made to burn all of the dead that night. The caravan was quick to move on, but ill never forget my first feeling of seeing such foul godless monsters, the mix feelings of fear and anger."