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

*Delivered about the coast by the fleet feet of a handful of elves, fliers begin arriving in the hands of those interested. First the Radient Heart, then the Flaming Fist, The Wardens of Beregost, and slowly begin to make their way into the hands of interested individuals.*

The Shadow Druid leader, known to go by "The Shadow Master", "The Dark One" and "Mauglir", is in fact the Elven druid Faerynn. As confirmed by the accounts of his associates the elven outlaws Rysdan Sith and Erwin Merikel.

They speak of how they collaborated with him in plots to take over Doron Amar by repeated assassination attempts and use that city and it's forces as the staging point to take other lands by force.

This information remained a guarded secret to ensure peace until his most recent string of attacks including those against the Fist, innocent travelers, and most recently the assassination orders against those under my protection.

Do as you will with him.

By mere chance, Elessar gets ahold of a copy and can barely believe his eyes.

"Faerynn? The Shadow Master?" he lets out a long and loud laugh, now determined to find his old friend and tease him with the flyer.

If asked Rhys admits such accusation match archived reports.

Alone in his banishment, Charraj holds one of the fliers in his hands. He stares at it intensely, his wizardly mind working furiously to put the pieces together.
The wizard frowns.
" . . . Who's 'Faerynn'?"

Wendel holds the flier in his wrinkled hands. Slowly and methodically he reads it a second time. The paper is crumpled, the old Wizard wincing a bit from his arthritis as his knobby fingers crush the paper.

Wendel thinks back to his recent battle in Cloakwood, with one whose companion ineptly referred to him by his name, Mauglir, before the battle commenced. That one looked little like Faerynn, the elf he has encountered several times. A brief frown crosses his face as he considered who would pen false lore and in so doing offend Oghma.

Mauglir the Dark, in the form of a huge, black dire wolf with amber eyes, paces in his cell within the Flaming Fist Prison. The huge wolf was a form of power and grace and terror. Mauglir, as the wolf, was likely the greatest of its kind in the Sword Coast. A form of such presence that the guards would no longer approach the cell door.

The cell is charred and smoking as if the place had been razed by a fire elemental. And indeed, it may have been. The walls were blackened all around, and the bed and stool and everything organic was destroyed by fire. He speaks no words and will not change back into his natural form. Thoughts continue through his head as he goes over and over the battle that took place before his capture. He was certain he had killed the elf named Siveyn, as well as one other female elf, hardly worth thinking about. Few have the internal power to resist the spell he cast. Kald, on the other hand, was more difficult to kill than those two. Especially when he was not trying to kill him. But it matters not. His plans had changed. Everything had changed.

The wolf continued to pace and think. No one could distract him.

Two Flaming Fist soldiers walk slowly down Wyrm's Crossing, making their way towards the south side of the bridge to relieve the guards on duty there. As they move, they chat idly about the capture of "Mauglir," revealed to be Faerynn.

"Does it surprise me?" One guardsman asks the other, with a derisive snort. "Of course it doesn't surprise me that the lord high druid -- or whatever they call themselves -- was some mass-murderin' psychopath! Have you ever met a druid who didn't want to burn Baldur's Gate to the ground?"

The other guardsman rubs the back of his helmet. "Well, I don't know. I mean, I can kind of understand the need to preserve a balance between the natural world and the civilized world."

"Pah!" The first guard says. "They can plant all the trees they like. But that 'Faerynn' and his 'shadow druids' destroyed an entire patrol squad on the Trade Way. An entire squadron! He deserves everything he's going to get."

The two guards were not alone in their trouble. Few people who had known Faerynn had suspected that he was the Shadow Master, and it had caused quite a stir among those who were friends to the druids -- as well as those who had suffered losses to the Shadow Druids.

The pair finally reach their destination, and relieve their comrades. Another long night lay ahead of them, spent reminding adventurers to put their weapons away before entering the city.

(( OOC: I'm receiving an awful lot of questions about this, so let me just take the opportunity to say that, yes, OOCly Faerynn and Mauglir are the same person. Now stop asking me! ))

Elohir paces in the Enclave Grove thinking of the recent past events. Kiowa, his faithful companion, sits and watches as he paces under the Tree of Life gifted by Silvanus.

Many things stir in Elohir's mind. How to inform the Enclave of Faerynn's fall? Though they most likely already know. How this may cause fractures within the Enclave. Faerynn will obviously need to be removed from his leadership position. Elohir thinks to himself as he paces; 'I must act quick to reduce the damage to the Enclave and bring us all together. The balance must be maintained, and right now we are failing.'

Elohir stops for a moment to pet Kiowa. "Its going to be okay girl. This will all work out in the end." Elohir sits next to Kiowa under the Tree of Life watching the waterfall and pulls out the pipe weed he stole from his brother. He packs his pipe and begins to smoke.

"I wish Faerynn was here to enjoy his pipe weed with me." An emptiness begins to fill Elohir...one he has not felt since their parents had been murdered.

Elohir sits and smokes his pipe weed in the Grove for many hours and thinks to himself while praying to Our Lady of the Forest.

"May she guide our path in these difficult times."

*Calen, fully aware of the tragic events that have passed recently concerning Shadow Druids, sits high up in an oak tree near the entrance to the Grove in the form of a hawk.

*Tsali, his faithful companion, roams the Woods of the Sharp Teeth below.

*In the tree, many thoughts come to Calen's mind. He just sits there, motionless, and ponders.

The jailor approached the cell of Faerynn, just a bit wary, but found Faerynn sitting quite peacefully on his bed.

"Time to die, scum!" the jailor stated flatly.

Faerynn stood up and walked closer to the cell door, "we'll see about that," he stated in calm tone.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure your going to die today. We got the noose all ready for you. Tis' to be a private hanging so none of your friends can try to save you at the last minute."

The jailor, surrounded by Fist guards fully armed and armored, pulled his keys out and unlocked the cell door. More than one Fist guard shifted nervously.

Faerynn smiled and walked out of the jail calmly and was quickly surrounded by the Fist.

"No funny stuff, Druid!" one guard exclaimed.

Faerynn smiled.

The guards bound Faerynn's hands tightly behind his back and were ready to cover his eyes with a blindfold.

"Don't cover his eyes! I want him to be able to see his death waiting for him as he approaches the gallows."

More than ten armored guards escorted Faerynn out of the prison. Outside the Fist Captain waited.

"Good riddance tree hugger!" spit flying from his mouth as he yelled it, but cigar profoundly not falling from his lips.

Elohir stepped from the shadows at that moment and pulled down his hood.

"Captain, I am here to bargain for my brother's life."

"The Dukes have spoken. There will be no changing their mind on this one. The Druid dies today!" the Captain replied.

"Don't worry about me brother. I've taken care of everything." Faerynn calmly stated.

"Don't make it worse on yourself brother, best to just not talk right now." Elohir replied.

A Fist guard poked Faerynn rather hard in his side with his falchion. "Shut up, you!"

Elohir pulled his hood up and walked away, and the Fist contingent escorted Faerynn out to the gallows in the Palace District.

No citizens were invited to the execution. Only Elohir his brother was allowed to be present, but his weapons were taken from him in the event he decided to "rescue" his brother.

An enormous Fist guard was present with a huge double-bladed war axe, and apparently he was in charge of the event.

Faerynn surveyed the scene when he arrived. Apart from the ten escort officers Faerynn had to the gallows, there was another contingent of approximately ten guards standing around the gallows when he arrived.

"Step up to the gallows, druid! Time to meet your maker!" the very large Fist guard said in a very gruff and commanding voice.

Faerynn walked slowly, arms still bound behind his back, to the foot of the gallows. While he was walking he closed his eyes and started to whisper. The whisper became louder and the guards could hear him.

"Tell him to shut up!" yelled a guard. And another yelled, "someone stop him from his chant."

But it was too late. Faerynn's voice was heard and huge phase spiders started to appear. The spiders began attacking the guards and the attention was drawn from Faerynn to them. The guards had their hands full in the attack and several guards were slain by the spiders.

Faerynn closed his eyes and concentrated and his body shift from his human form to the form of a wolf and the binds securing his hands fell to the ground. Then he quickly change back to his normal form. Faerynn rubbed his wrists and looked around as the spiders attacked, and he smiled.

By now the guards were fully engaged in battle with the spiders and several treants had joined the fight. Faerynn smiled as he watched the battle progress. The guards began to gain the upper hand as the brute of a Fist with the double axe literally chopped the treants down and quickly dispatched any spider who got close.

Faerynn saw this as his opportunity and he calmly walked to the middle of the fight, now surrounded on all sides by his enemies. Several of the guards noticed Faerynn and immediately attacked him.

But it was too late. Faerynn raised his hands and spoke a few simple words. The power of the spell had begun. To Faerynn, everything seemed to move in slow motion now. Some guards rushing him to try to tackle him to the ground. Other guards with their falchions raised high to strike him down. One falchion did bite deep into his back, what could have been a mortal wound to a mere mortal, but to Faerynn it did not matter now. His spell was nearly complete.

The power of the Vampiric Feast had begun. The power rushed out from Faerynn like a powerful wave of black tendrils of negative energy and sucked the life from all around him, and finally rushed back into his body feeding him with the life force of his victims.

A rush of wind and darkness ended the spell and all around Faerynn his enemies collapsed. All but one. Amid the carnage and death stood the figure of Fist brute with the double-bladed axe. Surprised, Faerynn reached out and spoke another word of power and the earth shook with the force of the spell. The Fist guard fell to the ground wracked from pain and agony as the power of the spell coarsed through him. But he did not die.

Faerynn raised a brow. "Interesting," he said. The guard slowly rose to his feet, blood covering his armor. He reached down and picked up his axe and then watched as Faerynn's shape changed into that of a huge raven, and he flew away south.

The Fist guard looked around, everyone else was dead, and he would soon die too if he didn't hurry and get help.

"Damn druid!" he stated, and ran back to the Fist prison to report.