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Shadows of Distant Nightmares: Blood for Blood
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Member Posts: 5,050,278 Bounty Hunter
A Note From The Author(that's me): The following adventure takes place during the time of the Neverwinter Nights Campaign. As such some of the Non-Original characters from the campaign and side quests from the game will be making appearances. However I would like to stress that this adventure is completely separate from that of the NWN campaign. Also, All Characters are the properly of their owners, blah, blah, blah, and all that good "Intellectual Property" stuff. And now, wit out further delay I give you the first installment of. . .
Shadows of Distant Nightmares: Blood for Blood
Gungrin's sight blurs as he staggers back from the blow he'd been dealt.
"Jerome you. . . argh!" Gungrin gasps as the pain in the side of his head flares, and he realizes he's bleeding. A solitary and unbidden tear runs down his cheek as he turns to stare Jerome in the face. The two were destined to be rivals from the time Gungrin had joined this little band of lowlifes.
"What? did I bust your little half-elf ears a little to hard?" Jerome laughs and lifts the wooden great sword he had hit Gungrin with up so they both could see the dark splotch of blood on the side. "Why don't you find a real weapon to fight with? Instead of that lady's needle you call a sword." He snarls down at the fencing saber Gungrin had dropped.
"Why am I not surprised that your little half-orc brain lacks the capacity to understand that bigger is not always better? Not too mention that only a coward attacks an opponent from behind." Gungrin chides as he kneels down to pick up his practice weapon, the rhythm of a quickening pulse beating in his head.
Gungrin was a slender young man, elegant and lithe. He was not the most handsome of creatures, with his hair black as mid-night and his nose that had been broken more times than he cared to admit. But he was charismatic and frightfully cunning.Few in his position would have mad it this far in ice, he was one of the lucky ones, at least thats what he told him self ever time he walked past the prison on his walks through the peninsula district.
Of course everything Gungrin had, his half-orc counterpart seemed to lack. Jerome had been around the cutthroats of the Docks for a long time that of course was after he was banished from his tribe for reasons no one in the gang dared to whisper.
"you think you better than me little half-elf? you think your so much smatter than the rest of us. Maybe I should drag you back down to where you belong." Jerome pounds against his plate mail breastplate with a bare fist, leaving a few more dents in it. "Pick up your little lady weapon half-elf, I teach you a lesson you will never forget."
sucking in a deep breath Gungrin straightens himself, taking his stance. Standing sideways, head turned toward Jerome, blade in his left hand pulled back as if he was drawing a bow, and his right resting gently on his belt. He sighs, "If you insist." and he smirks at Jerome.
The half-orc bellows in a sudden burst of rage and brings his weapon straight down towards Gungrin's head. Gungrin steps to his right and spins on his front foot raising his back to aim a kick at the outside of Jerome's left knee. the half-orc growls as his leg buckles and he begins to fall. instinctively Jerome throws his arm out to try and balance himself then gasps out a swear as Gungrin lands a punch to the the half-orcs armpit with the hand guard of his sword and then quickly parries a swing at his legs. Gungrin smirks again as Jerome blindly swings his sword again and again. The fight seems to be going well in Gungrin's favor when his sight suddenly goes dark and he begins to sway. He takes a labored step back when his feet gig out from under him. Realization hits him, along with the floor, as pain flares in the side of is head and blood begins flowing harder than ever from the wound.
Gungrin swears under his breath as consciousness begins to slip away from him, and Jerome lands a hard kick into his stomach.
Pain filled thoughts echo through his mind for a time as he briefly comes back, then they're gone. On the brink of consciousness Gungrin feels his head aching with the dull throb and persistent itch of a healing wound. with a slight groan he opens his eyes and lifts his head. Looking around recognition comes to him. He was lying in his bed. His head was wrapped and there was a thick pad of cotton where the one gash was. Old Fin's work. The old cleric had also shaved much of the hair around the wound off, leaving Gungrin with a peculiar haircut. Sighing he lays his head back onto the pillow.
"You know, I've never found straw mattresses to be very comfortable. Though I'm getting rather old now, and it's getting increasingly hard for me to remember clearly the days of my youth."
Gungrin bolts up in shock. "Boss. What can I help you with? I'll get out of bed, I've laid around long enough. I'm fine." He moves to climb out of bed.
"Stay in bed boy. I've a very important job for you to do. But first you must listen. I have a tale to tell you."
The Boss was the only man in the gang older than Old Fin. Some even said the boss was Old Fin's father. But all things aside Boss Verum was a kind man, and a good one, for the most part. His hair was a long as his beard and both ended around his knees. He was an old wizard and human. and like all humans he was coming to his end.
With a long sigh he began his story, "There was once a time, long ago, when I was a young protege. I even had the pleasant honor of meeting our king. I'm sure your wondering how one goes from being so highly regarded to the leader of this lot, but that is a tale for another time. While I was surrounded by the high society of Neverwinter I had the shane to meet many influential people. One of these people was a man from Waterdeep. He and I shared many nights talking, I gossiped of the things happening around the city. While he filled my head with many a tale of the world beyond the walls. He told me of Dragons and Giants, that lived in the southern mountains. He spun tales of bugbear tribes, and told me of the great Underdark. With all his tales I soon grew restless of my life. I wanted to travel and see the many things that my friend spoke of, and so I took my leave of the city and vowed not to return until my thirst for adventure had been satiated. I spent many years wondering the frozen north. I made many friends and just as many enemies. I have fought tribes of giants and even a dragon or two. But now I am old, I cannot fight like I once did, and I can feel the coming of something terrible. This is why I need you. I have a job for you, and Jerome. First I need you to go see my old friend she lives deep in the heart of the the spine of the world in a cave. You can't miss it. I am told she hears whispers of strange comings and goings among the trees. She will have another tale to tell you. You must listen and listen well. She has lived much longer than I and knows much more. Now then I suggest you go into the armory and grab yourself a nice sharp blade the wilds can be treacherous and the wild things will not show you mercy. Now go. Jerome waits for you at the city gates. I've managed to get you a short window in which you can break the quarantine. So if you'll excuse me I am very old, and my bed calls to me." THe old man stands and hands him a sealed envelope then leaves.
The 'armory' was just a corner of the large warehouse the gang called home, but it was better equipped than some of the guard posts around the city. Gungrin scans the weapons rack looking for something he could use when his eyes fell upon a gleaming rapier with an intricate hand guard. Word was some one had pulled it off the body of a merchant in the docks. After arming himself Gungrin filled a pack with supplies and headed out.
"Poor thing. It's never even been used." belting the sword on he moves to grab some light leather armor and a dagger. and heads out. He passes a few people he knows as he walks through the docks district and nods to the guards at the gate as he hands them the letter Boss Verum had given him. Gungrin smirks to himself as the gates close behind him. One of the guards had eyed him suspiciously after he noticed the glint of gold at his waist.
Jerome towered over the guards at the gate of the city. He wore his plate mail breastplate and a large helm that looked stretched to fit his head. at his waist swung two two-handed swords, which he could swing with one hand easily, and a pole axe stood out above his shoulder.
"Silly half-elf thinks to slay creatures of the wild with his little toothpick. I'll be sure to bury you with it."
"Jerome, I don't intend on fighting anything on this little trip unless I absolutely have to. Did you bring anything that isn't a weapon?"
The only answer from the half-orc was a deep frown.
Sighing, "Well I suppose it can't be helped. Lets go then. The faster we get this over with the better. Even a straw mattress is better than none at all and I've never been one for wondering outside the city." He pulls the pack filled with supplies onto his shoulder and hands the guards at the gate the letter given to him by Boss Verum.
The guards look at the two half breeds. The captain of the guard looks down at the letter one more time, "Sorry for the delay. May Tyr guide your steps and bring you back to us with your mission accomplished." He salutes the two and his men fall in line as they open the gate and let Gungrin and Jerome pass beyond the city walls.
As the gates close behind them Gungrin looks up at Jerome's confused face, "The Boss apparently still has some rather influential friends."
A grunt of agreement from the half-orc as they begin walking down the long road north to the Spine of the World by way of Lusken.
Shadows of Distant Nightmares: Blood for Blood
Gungrin's sight blurs as he staggers back from the blow he'd been dealt.
"Jerome you. . . argh!" Gungrin gasps as the pain in the side of his head flares, and he realizes he's bleeding. A solitary and unbidden tear runs down his cheek as he turns to stare Jerome in the face. The two were destined to be rivals from the time Gungrin had joined this little band of lowlifes.
"What? did I bust your little half-elf ears a little to hard?" Jerome laughs and lifts the wooden great sword he had hit Gungrin with up so they both could see the dark splotch of blood on the side. "Why don't you find a real weapon to fight with? Instead of that lady's needle you call a sword." He snarls down at the fencing saber Gungrin had dropped.
"Why am I not surprised that your little half-orc brain lacks the capacity to understand that bigger is not always better? Not too mention that only a coward attacks an opponent from behind." Gungrin chides as he kneels down to pick up his practice weapon, the rhythm of a quickening pulse beating in his head.
Gungrin was a slender young man, elegant and lithe. He was not the most handsome of creatures, with his hair black as mid-night and his nose that had been broken more times than he cared to admit. But he was charismatic and frightfully cunning.Few in his position would have mad it this far in ice, he was one of the lucky ones, at least thats what he told him self ever time he walked past the prison on his walks through the peninsula district.
Of course everything Gungrin had, his half-orc counterpart seemed to lack. Jerome had been around the cutthroats of the Docks for a long time that of course was after he was banished from his tribe for reasons no one in the gang dared to whisper.
"you think you better than me little half-elf? you think your so much smatter than the rest of us. Maybe I should drag you back down to where you belong." Jerome pounds against his plate mail breastplate with a bare fist, leaving a few more dents in it. "Pick up your little lady weapon half-elf, I teach you a lesson you will never forget."
sucking in a deep breath Gungrin straightens himself, taking his stance. Standing sideways, head turned toward Jerome, blade in his left hand pulled back as if he was drawing a bow, and his right resting gently on his belt. He sighs, "If you insist." and he smirks at Jerome.
The half-orc bellows in a sudden burst of rage and brings his weapon straight down towards Gungrin's head. Gungrin steps to his right and spins on his front foot raising his back to aim a kick at the outside of Jerome's left knee. the half-orc growls as his leg buckles and he begins to fall. instinctively Jerome throws his arm out to try and balance himself then gasps out a swear as Gungrin lands a punch to the the half-orcs armpit with the hand guard of his sword and then quickly parries a swing at his legs. Gungrin smirks again as Jerome blindly swings his sword again and again. The fight seems to be going well in Gungrin's favor when his sight suddenly goes dark and he begins to sway. He takes a labored step back when his feet gig out from under him. Realization hits him, along with the floor, as pain flares in the side of is head and blood begins flowing harder than ever from the wound.
Gungrin swears under his breath as consciousness begins to slip away from him, and Jerome lands a hard kick into his stomach.
Pain filled thoughts echo through his mind for a time as he briefly comes back, then they're gone. On the brink of consciousness Gungrin feels his head aching with the dull throb and persistent itch of a healing wound. with a slight groan he opens his eyes and lifts his head. Looking around recognition comes to him. He was lying in his bed. His head was wrapped and there was a thick pad of cotton where the one gash was. Old Fin's work. The old cleric had also shaved much of the hair around the wound off, leaving Gungrin with a peculiar haircut. Sighing he lays his head back onto the pillow.
"You know, I've never found straw mattresses to be very comfortable. Though I'm getting rather old now, and it's getting increasingly hard for me to remember clearly the days of my youth."
Gungrin bolts up in shock. "Boss. What can I help you with? I'll get out of bed, I've laid around long enough. I'm fine." He moves to climb out of bed.
"Stay in bed boy. I've a very important job for you to do. But first you must listen. I have a tale to tell you."
The Boss was the only man in the gang older than Old Fin. Some even said the boss was Old Fin's father. But all things aside Boss Verum was a kind man, and a good one, for the most part. His hair was a long as his beard and both ended around his knees. He was an old wizard and human. and like all humans he was coming to his end.
With a long sigh he began his story, "There was once a time, long ago, when I was a young protege. I even had the pleasant honor of meeting our king. I'm sure your wondering how one goes from being so highly regarded to the leader of this lot, but that is a tale for another time. While I was surrounded by the high society of Neverwinter I had the shane to meet many influential people. One of these people was a man from Waterdeep. He and I shared many nights talking, I gossiped of the things happening around the city. While he filled my head with many a tale of the world beyond the walls. He told me of Dragons and Giants, that lived in the southern mountains. He spun tales of bugbear tribes, and told me of the great Underdark. With all his tales I soon grew restless of my life. I wanted to travel and see the many things that my friend spoke of, and so I took my leave of the city and vowed not to return until my thirst for adventure had been satiated. I spent many years wondering the frozen north. I made many friends and just as many enemies. I have fought tribes of giants and even a dragon or two. But now I am old, I cannot fight like I once did, and I can feel the coming of something terrible. This is why I need you. I have a job for you, and Jerome. First I need you to go see my old friend she lives deep in the heart of the the spine of the world in a cave. You can't miss it. I am told she hears whispers of strange comings and goings among the trees. She will have another tale to tell you. You must listen and listen well. She has lived much longer than I and knows much more. Now then I suggest you go into the armory and grab yourself a nice sharp blade the wilds can be treacherous and the wild things will not show you mercy. Now go. Jerome waits for you at the city gates. I've managed to get you a short window in which you can break the quarantine. So if you'll excuse me I am very old, and my bed calls to me." THe old man stands and hands him a sealed envelope then leaves.
The 'armory' was just a corner of the large warehouse the gang called home, but it was better equipped than some of the guard posts around the city. Gungrin scans the weapons rack looking for something he could use when his eyes fell upon a gleaming rapier with an intricate hand guard. Word was some one had pulled it off the body of a merchant in the docks. After arming himself Gungrin filled a pack with supplies and headed out.
"Poor thing. It's never even been used." belting the sword on he moves to grab some light leather armor and a dagger. and heads out. He passes a few people he knows as he walks through the docks district and nods to the guards at the gate as he hands them the letter Boss Verum had given him. Gungrin smirks to himself as the gates close behind him. One of the guards had eyed him suspiciously after he noticed the glint of gold at his waist.
Jerome towered over the guards at the gate of the city. He wore his plate mail breastplate and a large helm that looked stretched to fit his head. at his waist swung two two-handed swords, which he could swing with one hand easily, and a pole axe stood out above his shoulder.
"Silly half-elf thinks to slay creatures of the wild with his little toothpick. I'll be sure to bury you with it."
"Jerome, I don't intend on fighting anything on this little trip unless I absolutely have to. Did you bring anything that isn't a weapon?"
The only answer from the half-orc was a deep frown.
Sighing, "Well I suppose it can't be helped. Lets go then. The faster we get this over with the better. Even a straw mattress is better than none at all and I've never been one for wondering outside the city." He pulls the pack filled with supplies onto his shoulder and hands the guards at the gate the letter given to him by Boss Verum.
The guards look at the two half breeds. The captain of the guard looks down at the letter one more time, "Sorry for the delay. May Tyr guide your steps and bring you back to us with your mission accomplished." He salutes the two and his men fall in line as they open the gate and let Gungrin and Jerome pass beyond the city walls.
As the gates close behind them Gungrin looks up at Jerome's confused face, "The Boss apparently still has some rather influential friends."
A grunt of agreement from the half-orc as they begin walking down the long road north to the Spine of the World by way of Lusken.
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"M'lady a man has come from Lord Nasher. He says the King wishes to see you."
THe thought of an audience with Lord Nasher lifted the woman's heart some, "Thank you. Where is our messenger now?" She had sent word to Lord Nasher only two days past. Hopefully this meant he was as worried about her dreams as she was.
"He is waiting in the front room m'lady. He insists that you come with him to see Lord Nasher immediately."
'As he should.' her mind flashes back to the dream. "Take me to him. After I have left see that the house is locked up tight and go about you day. I will not be coming home till very late Lord Nasher and I have much to discuss."
THe man that paced the floor of her front room was a tired looking old man. Though he was dressed like a commoner he stood with the posture of a noble, his presence commanding respect and awe. He had hair as white as fresh fallen snow that hung down to his knees in the back, and a beard that did the same in the front. He turns and makes there shallow bows to her then turns to head for the door.
"If you don't mind my dear it is best we see to this matter quickly. Lord Nasher fears the worst of these things. It is all I could do to keep him from coming her himself. As is if the Wailing Death wasn't enough for our poor city. Now my friends out side the city send me word of strange goings on in the wilderness. THe whole of the world seems to be going mad." The old man wrings his hands as he storms from the house and into the Black Lake district.
The woman follows behind the old man. "Dear sir, what do you mean by strange goings on in the wilderness. The gods have not spoken to me about such things." She hurries to keep up with the surprisingly quick old man.
He shakes his head and mutters, "So much yet to learn. She is too young Nasher, too young." Then he stops and looks her in the eye his bright emerald green eyes boring into her soft grey ones. "You still have much to learn youngling. The gods do speak only of the things that concern the gods. They care little for the things that threaten the vary land beneath our feet. Needless to say its probably for the best that Nasher sent word to me about these little dreams you've been having. I think they may be connected. Now then we must hurry, there is much to be send and even more to be done." He turns and ears off again.
Five men step forward as they reach the gate connecting Black Lake with No-Man's-Land. A small contingency of Grey cloaks. They all had brave faces, but their eyes showed all. They city guard was drawn so thin that Lord Nasher was putting his own guards on constant duty in the castle so the city guard could do what they could to keep the peace. These men sent to escort them hadn't seen a proper nights sleep in days. They would probably get themselves killed if they were attacked.
"You men should go back to me home. Make yourselves comfortable and gather your strength. The servants will see to your needs." She bows slightly to the men as they send side long glances at each other. "Go. the city will not fall this day, and your king will not need you this hour."
As the soldiers begin to head off the old man grabs one by the arm, "Your sword young man. Give it to me. Yes that's it. Good. Now be off with you."
The old man looked rather comical holding the sword but never the less he held it with purpose as he strode through the gates, and into No-Man's-Land. As the traversed the small place that had once housed the servants of the Black Lake district everything was fire and destruction. The occasional dog howled in the distance, and twice the woman that she heard screams from with in a house as they passed but the wizard payed no mind to his surroundings His eyes looked distant as he walked, sword in hand, ever forward. When they reached the City Core the lady took in a deep breath of fresh air and closed her eyes. She could here cries of pain floating through the city and she knew that somewhere the plague was taking another life. The plague fires, from what she understood, burned day and night.
"The dead. What are done with the remains after they are burned?"
"The ashes pile up, or they are blown scattered in the wind. People are dying to fast to properly dispose of the ashes. Not that the fires have kept the plague from spreading. Come now youngling. We have business that needs tending to."
Within Castle Never their footsteps echoed eerily off the walls as they moved from on empty room to another. Finally the old man lead them into a dark corridor. With a quick mutter the old man summoned a light and they continued on. upon exiting the corridor they found themselves in a low room with a round table and chairs sitting in the center, Lord Nasher sat waiting at the far end of the room.
The frown upon Lord Nasher's face was deep. his face had grown long and he seemed slightly ill. "Sit. Both of you. We must speak quickly."
The woman sits, her mind racing at what evil could have caused such a meeting as this. She casts a glance at the old man but his face is calm, as if nothing in the whole of Faerun could be wrong. His serenity sent a chill own her spine.
Lord Nasher looks from one to the other, "I would be wrong if I assumed that you too had spoken on the way here. Correct?"
The old man simply nods.
"You haven't changed much have you Verum. Well lets start with you then. Explain what exactly your wild friends have heard."
The old man bows his head and crosses his fingers on his chest it takes him some time to begin as if he's contemplating a very complex problem, "Well my Lord, there seems to be a strange restlessness growing in the wilds. Whispers have reached my ear of an uncommon aura that has been moving from place to place. Normally I would not find this to strange, men pass through these land often and an unfamiliar aura would make most of the wild bests a little skittish." here he pauses for a time, "But, whispers have reached me that this same aura has been sensed by my friends in the Spine of The World I have told you of these friends. They are of the scaly reptilian type, and as such their concern is now my own. few things will send a chill own a dragons sine, and I would not like for one of those things to be wandering to close to my home. As such I have sent to of my finest boys north to speak with Gorgotha, the golden dragon."
At this the woman gasped, "You sent your men into the lair of a dragon? Do you really care so little for their lives?"
"calm your self youngling. I care more for the lives of my young men than I care for the lives of everyone else in this city. The real world is no song, and Gorgotha is not a simple beast. She is more cunning than any other being I know. But fear can corrupt even he strongest of minds, and that is why I sent the two young men I sent, Jerome thinks with his blade and his heart, which makes him a hard man to shake, while Gungrin is sly and charismatic, he'll avoid any fight he can't win and when I fund him he had talked his way out of the gallows. Remember that day Lord Nasher?" The old man gives the King a sly smile.
"Verum is right my dear, I trust his judgment in these young men. But they will need support when they return and as such I need more from you on test dreams, perhaps the one f the gods has sent you a message in these dreams of what darkness may be causing these disturbances. So please, if it is not to much to ask, will you recite your dreams to us?"
The old man nods slowly, "I see. Lord Nasher, if I may, I think it would be in our best interest if we kept this young woman in the care of some one other than her servants. Might I suggest that she come and stay with my men, I would see to it that she was treated with respect and dignity, plus she will be able to learn from Old Fin, the coger may be a tade on the bitter side but he's a good cleric none the less. That is if the lady is willing." He gives her a long glance.
"I agree." Lord Nasher's reply is quick and curt. "It would be good for you my dear to begin a serious training regiment so that you can become a proper cleric. We may have need of your skills in the time to come, and should this dream of yours turn out to truly be an ill omen for yourself, or Neverwinter, we will need all the help we can muster. So Lady Doriana what say you? Will you go with Verum and learn to be a proper cleric?"
Doriana pauses for a moment, looking from one of the older men to the other, then nods, "Yes, I shall do everything in my power to help protect Neverwinter."
On that Lord Nasher stood and left the room. After the king has left Verum stands setting the sword he borrowed from one of the kings guard on the table.
"Well lets get on with it then. I'll have to have a special room all made up for my special guest." He heads from the room, Doriana following close behind. After they have exited from the castle Verum makes for the docks district.
Confused Doriana pauses for a moment, "Lord Verum? Should we not be heading back to the Black Lake District?"
The old man smiles, "My dear, I have not been a 'Lord' for many years. I am just Verum, and I live in the docks with the rest of villainous crew." a chuckle escapes his lips as he turns from her and continues on.