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"Dancing with the devils in the pale moonlight..."
jadescimitar
Member Posts: 716 Arc User
(Intro to the meeting of Jade and Endingdawn Part I)
It was well past midnight when the double-masted brigantine silently pulled into an isolated part of the inlet that served as a harbor for the sleepy little town of Port Llast approximately 40 miles north of Neverwinter. She bore no name on the escutcheon at her stern and no colors on her square-rigged foremast save for the black sails currently trimmed as her crew dropped anchor. The brigantine was surprising well armed for a ship of her size but still was woefully outgunned by any conventional warship. Speed was her main weapon and she was perfectly built for her purpose of lightning fast strikes and even quicker escapes across the rolling waves of the Sea of Swords.
Seatrade had greatly increased in recent years post Spellplague as many cities along the Sword Coast were well on the road to recovery if not already prospering. One of the main trade routes, which spanned Luskan to the north, Baldur's Gate to the south and had stops in Neverwinter and Waterdeep, was particularly busy this time of year. Numerous merchant fleets sailed up and down the Sword Coast heavily laden with fine wines from Amn, prized scrimshaw from Icewind Dale, and gleaming gold by the chestfuls obtained in trade. And w'ere thar be rich merchant ships, thar be pirates...
[...]
Captain Lucian Ebonheart walked the top deck of his beloved brigantine as he observed his crew quietly scurry around preparing the ship for a well deserved night's rest. He was a tall man dressed from head to toe in his signature midnight blue, darkest blue almost to the point of black nearly matching his name and his dark reputation. A huge brass pommeled cutlass hung to his left suspended by a large bandoleer of leather across his massive body and he sported a large webbed scar across his left cheek. A souvenir from a near deadly encounter with a skilled pirate hunter, he would tell people, but in reality a rather stinging reminder of betrayal from the only woman he ever thought he loved.
It was not long before the muffled sounds of the quietly working crew died down and was replaced by the gentle lapping of water along the side of the ship as she gently rocked in the surf.
Captain Ebonheart pulled out his spyglass from the right pocket of his heavy overcoat and observed the flickering torchlights that marked the docks and shoreline of Port Llast in the distance. He heard footfalls, lowered his spyglass and turned to see his first mate Pieg Dekkar approaching him.
"The Raven be ready fer 'er bedtime, " Dekkar whispered, referring to Captain Ebonheart's pride and joy. "We be still decently stocked on provisions, cap'n, why be we stoppin' 'ere?" He indicated towards the lights in the distance.
"We be havin' business 'ere," the captain replied simply, "and that be all ye need t' know!"
He stared long and hard at his first mate. Dekkar was a lanky man, dressed in a simple grey shirt, trousers, and boots. He had faithfully served on board the Raven for a few years now, and the captain had never met a more skilled sailor, other than himself of course. However, Dekkar had always had the bad habit of nearly always speaking his mind.
[Luckily, he never did so in front of the crew otherwise "steps" would have to be taken, ] the captain thought darkly.
"I be takin' the first watch, Dekkar. Prepare fer a dawn departure and is the dinghy made ready as I asked fer?"
Dekkar nodded. "Should ye be goin' alone?" he dared to ask.
"Tis nay fer me, " the captain hissed. "Now get below an' get some sleep before I run ye through wi' a harpoon..." he added as he continued to scan the coast. His tone left no room for arguement.
"Aye, cap'n, " Dekkar softy replied as he shuffled off.
[...]
"Are ye sure ye be wantin' t' do this?" Captain Ebonheart softly muttered when he was finally "alone."
A diminutive cloaked figure emerged from the shadows of the main cabin, glided silently towards the captain and settled on the rail along side the large man.
"Thar`s nay much o' a town thar, but we be nay that far off t' Neverwinter, " the captain continued, "about one t' two days set by horse." "I would've drop ye off closer but our kind be nay exactly welcomed warmly in that thar town or any other 'civilized' town fer that matter..." he softly chuckled.
He looked down at the cloaked figure next to him, who was easily a head and a half shorter than him. "Ye be havin' a horse in that thar fabulous magic bag, aye? he quietly joked with a big crooked smile.
"I will make due, " the cloaked figure replied in melodic but hushed tones from deep within the darkness of the hood of the cloak, "as I need to be in Neverwinter before the rise of the next new moon."
Captain Ebonheart lowered the spyglass and looked up into the night sky. "Ye be cuttin' 't close then." he remarked as he indicated with a slight nod towards the waning crescent moon."
The captain folded up the spyglass, dropped it back into his pocket and turned to the cloaked figure.
"Ye be one heck o' a pirate and a good seafarin' mate to boot, " Captain Ebonheart smiled as he extended a gigantic gloved hand, "and I be sorry t' lose ye, Jade o' the Blade."
The cloaked figure looked up at the tower of a man and grasped his hand with a much smaller gloved hand. The hood of the cloak fell back and hair, the color of spun forest green emeralds, spilled out into the moonlight.
"The pleasure and a rather large share of the booty was all mine, " Jade quietly replied with a wry grin. "Try not to kill those that don't truly deserve it, " she added sternly after experiencing another of her mercurial mood swings.
The captain took back his hand, backed up a step and raised his hands in mock surrender.
"No promises little grass-haired conscience o' mine, " Ebonheart softly jested, "in fact, me thinks I be forgetting how t' e'en take an innocent life since ye boarded the Raven all them moons ago."
"Oh, before I be forgetting, " the captain added as he reached inside of his overcoat with his right hand and withdrew a tiny brown leather pouch.
"A going away present, " Ebonheart stated as he casually tossed the pouch over to Jade, who deftly snatched it out of the air with her left hand.
Jade pulled on the leather purse strings, opened the pouch and looked inside. "But this is your..." she started to softly stammer as she extended the open pouch back at the captain.
Ebonheart raised a gigantic gloved hand to silence her. "I can take care o' me-self without 't an' I be havin' a feelin' ye probably be needin' 't more'n me." he added with a grin.
"Thank you, Captain" Jade replied with a warm smile , "for everything..." And with that, she vaulted over the wooden rail, climbed down the wet rope ladder and silently deposited herself in the leaky dinghy.
Captain Ebonheart watched the dinghy until it slipped into the inky shadows along the shore of the cove and turned back to the deck of his beloved Raven.
"Yeah, I be goin' t' miss that one, " the captain sighed.
"If only she nay be older'n me great grandmother..." he chortled as he walked the deck for the umpteenth time.
(to be continued...)
It was well past midnight when the double-masted brigantine silently pulled into an isolated part of the inlet that served as a harbor for the sleepy little town of Port Llast approximately 40 miles north of Neverwinter. She bore no name on the escutcheon at her stern and no colors on her square-rigged foremast save for the black sails currently trimmed as her crew dropped anchor. The brigantine was surprising well armed for a ship of her size but still was woefully outgunned by any conventional warship. Speed was her main weapon and she was perfectly built for her purpose of lightning fast strikes and even quicker escapes across the rolling waves of the Sea of Swords.
Seatrade had greatly increased in recent years post Spellplague as many cities along the Sword Coast were well on the road to recovery if not already prospering. One of the main trade routes, which spanned Luskan to the north, Baldur's Gate to the south and had stops in Neverwinter and Waterdeep, was particularly busy this time of year. Numerous merchant fleets sailed up and down the Sword Coast heavily laden with fine wines from Amn, prized scrimshaw from Icewind Dale, and gleaming gold by the chestfuls obtained in trade. And w'ere thar be rich merchant ships, thar be pirates...
[...]
Captain Lucian Ebonheart walked the top deck of his beloved brigantine as he observed his crew quietly scurry around preparing the ship for a well deserved night's rest. He was a tall man dressed from head to toe in his signature midnight blue, darkest blue almost to the point of black nearly matching his name and his dark reputation. A huge brass pommeled cutlass hung to his left suspended by a large bandoleer of leather across his massive body and he sported a large webbed scar across his left cheek. A souvenir from a near deadly encounter with a skilled pirate hunter, he would tell people, but in reality a rather stinging reminder of betrayal from the only woman he ever thought he loved.
It was not long before the muffled sounds of the quietly working crew died down and was replaced by the gentle lapping of water along the side of the ship as she gently rocked in the surf.
Captain Ebonheart pulled out his spyglass from the right pocket of his heavy overcoat and observed the flickering torchlights that marked the docks and shoreline of Port Llast in the distance. He heard footfalls, lowered his spyglass and turned to see his first mate Pieg Dekkar approaching him.
"The Raven be ready fer 'er bedtime, " Dekkar whispered, referring to Captain Ebonheart's pride and joy. "We be still decently stocked on provisions, cap'n, why be we stoppin' 'ere?" He indicated towards the lights in the distance.
"We be havin' business 'ere," the captain replied simply, "and that be all ye need t' know!"
He stared long and hard at his first mate. Dekkar was a lanky man, dressed in a simple grey shirt, trousers, and boots. He had faithfully served on board the Raven for a few years now, and the captain had never met a more skilled sailor, other than himself of course. However, Dekkar had always had the bad habit of nearly always speaking his mind.
[Luckily, he never did so in front of the crew otherwise "steps" would have to be taken, ] the captain thought darkly.
"I be takin' the first watch, Dekkar. Prepare fer a dawn departure and is the dinghy made ready as I asked fer?"
Dekkar nodded. "Should ye be goin' alone?" he dared to ask.
"Tis nay fer me, " the captain hissed. "Now get below an' get some sleep before I run ye through wi' a harpoon..." he added as he continued to scan the coast. His tone left no room for arguement.
"Aye, cap'n, " Dekkar softy replied as he shuffled off.
[...]
"Are ye sure ye be wantin' t' do this?" Captain Ebonheart softly muttered when he was finally "alone."
A diminutive cloaked figure emerged from the shadows of the main cabin, glided silently towards the captain and settled on the rail along side the large man.
"Thar`s nay much o' a town thar, but we be nay that far off t' Neverwinter, " the captain continued, "about one t' two days set by horse." "I would've drop ye off closer but our kind be nay exactly welcomed warmly in that thar town or any other 'civilized' town fer that matter..." he softly chuckled.
He looked down at the cloaked figure next to him, who was easily a head and a half shorter than him. "Ye be havin' a horse in that thar fabulous magic bag, aye? he quietly joked with a big crooked smile.
"I will make due, " the cloaked figure replied in melodic but hushed tones from deep within the darkness of the hood of the cloak, "as I need to be in Neverwinter before the rise of the next new moon."
Captain Ebonheart lowered the spyglass and looked up into the night sky. "Ye be cuttin' 't close then." he remarked as he indicated with a slight nod towards the waning crescent moon."
The captain folded up the spyglass, dropped it back into his pocket and turned to the cloaked figure.
"Ye be one heck o' a pirate and a good seafarin' mate to boot, " Captain Ebonheart smiled as he extended a gigantic gloved hand, "and I be sorry t' lose ye, Jade o' the Blade."
The cloaked figure looked up at the tower of a man and grasped his hand with a much smaller gloved hand. The hood of the cloak fell back and hair, the color of spun forest green emeralds, spilled out into the moonlight.
"The pleasure and a rather large share of the booty was all mine, " Jade quietly replied with a wry grin. "Try not to kill those that don't truly deserve it, " she added sternly after experiencing another of her mercurial mood swings.
The captain took back his hand, backed up a step and raised his hands in mock surrender.
"No promises little grass-haired conscience o' mine, " Ebonheart softly jested, "in fact, me thinks I be forgetting how t' e'en take an innocent life since ye boarded the Raven all them moons ago."
"Oh, before I be forgetting, " the captain added as he reached inside of his overcoat with his right hand and withdrew a tiny brown leather pouch.
"A going away present, " Ebonheart stated as he casually tossed the pouch over to Jade, who deftly snatched it out of the air with her left hand.
Jade pulled on the leather purse strings, opened the pouch and looked inside. "But this is your..." she started to softly stammer as she extended the open pouch back at the captain.
Ebonheart raised a gigantic gloved hand to silence her. "I can take care o' me-self without 't an' I be havin' a feelin' ye probably be needin' 't more'n me." he added with a grin.
"Thank you, Captain" Jade replied with a warm smile , "for everything..." And with that, she vaulted over the wooden rail, climbed down the wet rope ladder and silently deposited herself in the leaky dinghy.
Captain Ebonheart watched the dinghy until it slipped into the inky shadows along the shore of the cove and turned back to the deck of his beloved Raven.
"Yeah, I be goin' t' miss that one, " the captain sighed.
"If only she nay be older'n me great grandmother..." he chortled as he walked the deck for the umpteenth time.
(to be continued...)
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
Post edited by jadescimitar on
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Comments
Pirate speak is hard to write and even harder to read sometimes but I just finished watching "Pirates of the Caribbean 1" and couldn't resist....
At least, Captain Ebonheart did not wear mascara... b:shocked
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
Oh, and thank ye fer da story me lassie wench!
However ye still should be given to de spiders!
Lol!
Well, now! It's always nice to be appreciated, even if only as a meal! b:laugh
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
Nice! Add that to my Game Launch Plan as an Easter Egg I plan to hunt down.
And you are most welcome, but we ain't done yet! More parts of this story to come and more stories yet to come at least until game play starts...
JS
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
What if they would spit your skin and meat out 'cause you taste so terrible?
You're right, feeding me to spiders, bad idea! b:spit
And spiders actually inject their victims with digestive juices and drink the resulting "soup" like their victim is one big Capri Sun. They technically don't "eat" skin or meat, per se...
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
Fine. Figuratively speaking I can speak about eating and spitting! b:laugh
Yes! Figuratively agreeing! b:pleased
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
*hums Final Fantasy Victory Fanfare*
Anyways, seriously speaking; waiting for de next part
[...]
<Translated from Elvish>
<Mommy, what is that over there?> the tiny elf-child inquired as she pointed out over the white painted bow of the swan-boat. The regally dressed elf-woman seated across from her shifted in her seat and looked over her left shoulder to see what the elf-child was pointing at.
In the center of the serene lake, the elf-woman saw what had drawn the attention of the elf-child. It was nothing less than the most magnificent of all castles. The unearthly structure appeared to be constructed entirely of crystal, gems, alabaster, and marble, as it rested upon four great crystalline pyramids. What made it truly amazing was that the structure seemed to float without support 200 feet above the surface of the lake!
<That, Iralen> the elf-woman reverently replied, <is the Summer Palace of our beloved Queen Amlaruil.> Cylyria turned back around and looked lovingly upon her child, who was dressed in a flowing white gown of gossamer silk, nearly identical to the one she wore herself.
[She has her father's eyes, ] Cylyria thought as she gazed into the elf-child's eyes of gold-flecked green with her's of gold-flecked blue. [But that hair?] she thought as she adjusted her gaze a little higher. [Never has anyone seen such tresses before, which remarkably matched her eyes...]
Iralen shifted uncomfortably under the focused gaze of her mother.
<Want to see a trick uncle Kyrin taught me?> Iralen impishly asked in an attempt to shift her mother's focus.
<Of course!> Cylyria joyfully laughed and leaned forward.
<First, I need this...> Iralen suddenly declared as she grasped her mother's right hand and effortlessly removed an ornate ring from her ring finger.
<What?> Cylyria started to say but was immediately hushed by her daughter.
<Watch, Mommy!> Iralen announced, as she grandiosely placed the ring in her small left palm, closed her fingers, blew through the clenched little fist, and threw her empty palm into the air with a smiling flourish, <I can do magic!>
<Yeah!> Cylyria exclaimed while enthusiastically clapping. <But what is in this hand?> she knowingly asked touching Iralen's closed right hand.
<Nothing!> Iralen happily shouted and opened both delicate little hands in front of her to show that she did indeed have nothing concealed.
<Iralen...> Cylyria stated in a concerned tone, <where is mommy's ring?>
Iralen excitedly jumped off her seat, stood up in the boat, reached into her mother's blonde hair and proceeded to pluck the ring from behind her pointed ear.
<Right here!> she declared, dropping the ring back into her mother's hand, sat right back down and giggled uncontrollably.
[I'm going to have a long talk with uncle Kyrin when we get back, ] Cylyria thought to herself as she placed the ring back on her right hand.
She suddenly reached over and proceeded to attack her daughter with tickles which only made Iralen giggle that much harder.
<You little thief.> Cylyria sighed happily.
[...]
<You little thief..>
<You little thief.>
<You little thief...>
CRUNCH!!!
Jade was roughly shaken from her reverie as the dinghy ran aground on the rocky shore just east of the docks of Port Llast. Her face felt wet in the cool night air and she proceeded to rub away the "salt spray" from her cheeks with the back of her right hand as she jumped into the surf and pulled the dinghy closer onto the beach.
Jade reached into a belt pouch and retrieved a stoppered glass bottle. Using the dropper contained in the stopper, she squeezed off a few drops of black dragon acid onto the bow of the dinghy that was clear of seawater. The acid immediately hissed on contact and made short work of the wooden planks that made up the dinghy's floor. Jade gave the prow of the boat a swift, hard kick and it immediately retreated back into the waves and promptly sank out of sight. With a final look at the big looming shadow of a ship just off shore, she turned towards the flickering lights in the distance and headed towards town.
[...]
Crossing Port Llast undetected was rather easy for Jade as few were up at this time of night and the two sentries that she did encounter were too engrossed in their dice game to even notice her as she flitted by among the shadows. It wasn't long before Jade found herself surrounded by farmhouses and barns.
She heard a soft whinny coming from the barn in front of her and went to investigate. Jade silently approached the barn door, unlatched it and tried to open it when her elven ears picked up on the hinges as they began to creak. She reached into another pocket and withdrew a small oil can and quickly applied a generous squirt of oil on each hinge of the barn door. Jade tried the door again and, to her satisfaction, the door swung open smoothly and, more importantly, silently. Inside of the barn she found everything you would expect to find in a barn: hay, farming tools, a plow but Jade was most interested in the gray mare that was penned in corner of the building.
Jade was no stranger to animals as members of House Korianthil were also well known as beast masters and trainers. Her family's horses, hunting hawks, and dogs were considered to be the finest in Faerun. By the time Jade finished putting on the bridle and saddle on the mare, she fully trusted Jade and was eagerly eating sweetened oats right out of her hand. Jade reached into another belt pouch and produced a good sized bag of silver, easily ten times the worth of the mare and likely more than a year's earnings for the farmer that owned the horse. She placed the bag into the mare's feedbag attached to the pen where it would be easily seen and led the horse out of the barn.
Jade quickly mounted the horse once they were clear of the barn and headed east until she came upon the Highroad, the main land trade route running from Luskan through Neverwinter and ultimately to Waterdeep. She turned south to follow the High Road and rode the mare into a night haunted by mental images of blonde hair and blue gold-flecked eyes...
(to be continued...)
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
Anyways well made chapter, waiting for next one!
Thank you!
Jade was indeed born on the Green Island but like most of her noble House, left the island in search of adventure. In fact, her parents and she left Evermeet shortly after the events of the dream/memory/reverie sequence you just read above as it occurred over 100 years ago and right before the Spellplague ravaged Faerun. Post Spellplague, where most of the inhabitants of Evermeet were transported to the Feywild or Faerie, the remnants of House Korianthil reestablished a base of operations in Evereska, the last elven stronghold on Faerun. In the chaos of the Spellplague, Jade lost contact with her parents but that is a story for another time.
Time for work...
JS
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
But try as she did, the diligent gray mare was well past her prime and more suited for a simpler life of plowing fields rather than as an urgent conveyance for "would-be" heroes who always seemed to be in a desperate rush to get somewhere far away...
[...]
Jade heard it in her labored breathing, felt it in her faltering stride, and saw it in the foaming of her mouth. This horse was willing to run itself to death to help her before it was ready to admit defeat and succumb to fatigue. She was nowhere near Neverwinter and, as usual with all of her "family missions, " time was of the essence as she looked up at the waning crescent moon. Jade had to recover the Mhaorkiira before the new moon could recharge the corrupted elven artifact. She gritted her teeth in frustration and made her decision...
... to pull up hard on the reins!
The thoroughly confused mare came to a complete stop after sliding for more than 30 feet. Jade promptly leaped off of the soaking wet animal. "I am in a desperate hurry, " she whispered to the mare, "but it's not worth your life." Jade led the horse off of the road and over to a patch of long grass. She removed the saddle and bridle and the dead-tired animal laid down immediately. Jade kneeled and stroked its head and mane lovingly. "Rest well, my friend and thank you!"
With a lighter heart and a frustrated sense of duty, Jade, pulled up the hood of her cloak, got back on the main road, and proceed to walk to Neverwinter...
[...]
[Gods, I am tired!] Coram thought to himself as he lean forward on his ebony longbow, [I hate 3rd shift watch.] He suddenly heard a rustle in the bushes to his left just outside of the camp and immediately snapped wide awake. Without hesitation, Coram pulled an arrow out of the quiver strapped across his back , nocked it and peered out into the darkness. With the moon behind the trees, it was extremely hard to see anything, but he heard the sound of the soft crunching of leaves slowly approaching him. Coram raised his longbow as soon as he saw a large hulking shape, pulled the nocked arrow back along with the bowstring and made ready to shoot.
"Put that thing away before you hurt yourself or worse, make me want to hurt you!" a gruff and familiar voice floated in from the moving shadowy hulk.
Coram lowered the bow and arrow as Paragon emerged from the shadows of the underbrush and back into the moonlight. He was dressed in dusty brown traveling leathers and well worn dark brown suede clodders at his feet. A unadorned longsword was sheathed at his belt on his left hip along with a matching dagger on his right. His brother Coram was dressed similarly for the road as both were serving among the mercenary contingent hired to guard the caravan who were over a week out of Luskan.
"Have a nice walk?" he smirked.
Paragon snorted derisively, "there's no sign of the fool!"
"Good riddance, " Coram started to answer his brother, "I never liked..."
"Has he returned yet?" a soft disembodied woman's voice whispered from behind Coram and startled him in the process.
Coram clumsily pivoted where he stood, dropped to one knee, raised the bow and arrow and shakingly took a bead on the woman that was standing directly behind him. She was in her late twenties a little on the girthy side but still very attractive dressed in her maroon tunic and doe skin breeches. She had thick bouncing curls of auburn hair that cascaded down to her shoulders, but most amazing were the deepest blue eyes that the auburn hair framed on her cherub-like face currently etched with lines of worry.
"Has he returned yet?" the woman repeated seemingly oblivious to the drawn weapon pointed at her face.
Paragon rolled his eyes and shook his head as he slowly walked over to his rather nervous brother and gently took the ebony bow and arrow out his hands. He hoisted his brother back on his feet, took his quiver of arrows, and pushed him off towards the circle of wagons ringing the campfire.
"Get Farak to relieve you, " he instructed as his brother ambled off, "you're done for the night."
Paragon turned back to woman. "My apologies, Miss Aleria, for my brother, " he nodded off towards the fire, "he's not much of a sentry but he's unquestionably loyal."
Another man dressed similarly in the garb of a caravan guard and sporting a trimmed black moustache and goatee approached the talking pair.
Paragon handed the quiver and bow to him. "Check the perimeter Farak, " he stated as the man shouldered the quiver and tested the string on the ebony bow. Farak nodded and headed off into the night.
"Any sign of him?" Aleria tersely asked the hulking man before her. An edge of emerging ire was noticeable in her voice.
"No, my lady, " he replied, "I went out as far into the dark forest as I dared and found no sign of him."
Aleria nodded and slowly walked dejectedly back towards her wagon haunted by red hair and silver eyes.
Paragon watch as Aleria silently enter her wagon and close the cloth curtain before he started off in the same direction as Farak.
"All this, " he mumbled into the night and shook his head, "just for an elf..."
[...]
Jade walked, jogged, and ran for what seemed like hours until she noticed a flickering point of light in the distance. [At last!] She thought while picking up her pace. She briefly considered a more discrete approach, but time was not in ample supply. [Since they are camped so close to the road, ] she reason, [two things are most likely. One, they are probably not bandits and, two, there's probably a large group of them. Best to try the direct approach and negotiate for a horse. I hope they're a friendly bunch...]
[...]
Paragon finally caught up with Farak after walking about three quarters of the perimeter around the circled wagons.
"Can't believe that silly woman is pining for that elf, " Farak softly jested when Paragon walked up beside him.
Paragon gave a disinterested shrug as if it hardly mattered to him.
"He probably got tired of her and left to get his excitement elsewhere, " Farak continued, "now's your chance to swoop in and comfort her while she's vulnerable."
Paragon glared at him as he grinned wickedly back.
As the two continued with their patrol, they walked the perimeter closest to the main road and noticed a slim and diminutive cloaked figure slowly walking towards them.
"Guess who's back, " Farak whispered as he not so gently elbowed Paragon in the ribs a few times.
"Hey, elf!" he called out in a louder voice, "guess who has been worried sick about you?" "Aleria is going to be so happy to see you again!" he added with a sly glance towards Paragon who was silently fuming next to him.
"I'm not sure who this Aleria is but I would so happy to see her if she happened to have an extra horse..." the stranger replied from deep within the hood of her cloak.
As soon as the stranger's voice floated over to them, Farak's bow snapped up with a noched arrow and Paragon's longsword hissed out its sheath.
"Who are you and what do you want?" Paragon shouted out.
With the hulking man's exclamation, Jade saw the camp come to life as merchants peeked out of their wagons and other caravan guards started groping for weapons in the light of the dying fire and sighed in frustration. [Should have just "borrowed" a horse...] she thought.
"No one of consequence... " the dark stranger replied, "and I believe I have already told you what I seek."
"He's probably a short and stupid bandit, " Farak whispered to Paragon from the corner of his mouth, "look at him, even you can take him."
Glad to no longer be the focus of Farak's attention and even more glad to find a potential release of pent up frustration and aggression, Paragon approached the cloaked stranger and assumed a fighting stance.
"Well, if you won't tell me who you are, I will have to figure it out from... YOUR CORPSE!!!" Paragon shouted as he lunged at the cloaked stranger, who deftly dodged to the right. He tried another lunge to skewer the stranger again but missed by inches as the stranger danced to the left. Paragon backed up a few steps angrier than ever. He was not about to be made a fool of.
Jade stood there calmly as if nothing had just occurred. She had sized him up the moment the hulking man assumed a fighting stance and realized that her attacker had probably gone through some extensive training in the past. A distant past, she confirmed by the rather clumsy nature of his first strike and the desperate nature of the second. [No imagination... Soft caravan life must agree with you, ] she thought wryly.
Paragon moved up to strike again and his soldier's instincts , after years of languishing in caravan duty, finally allowed him to feel the flow of the battle. He lunged forward again but it was only a feint. He shifted most of his weight onto his right foot and at the last instance of his lunge he changed directions and instead slashed downwards to the right where he expect the shadowy dancer to dodge to.
[Bravo!] Jade thought as she did indeed dodge to his right. [That is much better!] she added as blade sailed but an inch over her head and back. Jade had not only dodged to his right but also bent over at her waist, pivoted on her left foot, and placed her right foot behind the man's right foot. She popped back up, after the sword passed harmlessly over her, and grabbed man's wrist as he followed through with his sword slash. Jade gave that wrist a quick twist and the sword went flying off to her left. She shifted her weight onto her right foot and pivoted on it to fully maneuver herself behind the large man. She completed her pivot with a hard kick behind both of the man's knees with her left shin which drove the man to the ground on his knees and down to her height. Jade pinned the man's right arm up against his back with her right hand and had a dagger at his throat with her left by the time he fully registered what had just happened.
"Let him go or I will shoot!!" Farak shouted as other caravan guards and a few of the merchants came running up behind him.
"Shoot me and shoot him, " the stranger replied applying pressure to the small of Paragon's back to which he issued a soft grunt.
"Please, " a woman's voice called out, "tell us what you want." Jade turned herself and her "involuntary shield" to the right to address the woman with the auburn hair.
"I only came to inquire about a horse, " the stranger replied, "but your guards seemed a bit too eager for some action."
"My name is Aleria and I do own a few horses here, perhaps we can make a deal?" the woman asked with a strange look of hope in her eyes, "but please let Paragon go." Aleria motioned for the archers in the group to lower their weapons.
Jade scrutinized the woman and felt that she did sound sincere. She obviously had something in mind and supposedly a horse for her which drew Jade's complete attention.
"As it was not my intention to kill anyone tonight... I agree, " the stranger replied, released Paragon and backed away from the sleepy and angry mob.
"Please meet me by the road, " Aleria stated as she rushed to Paragon's side and with the help of a few others got him onto his feet. She motioned for the others to take him back to the wagon circle and walked towards the road. A few of the archers lingered around the edge of the camp watching Aleria approach the stranger.
"What do you have in mind?" the cloaked figure asked Aleria when she finally got to the road.
"I saw the way you moved when you easily defeated Paragon, " Aleria said, "you move like he does..."
"He?" the stranger inquired.
"His name is Logaine, "Aleria explained, "he is an elven warrior with red hair the color of blood and has the most silvery of eyes..." She paused briefly and then continued, "He was originally hired on to be a caravan guard, but, judging from his clothes and gear, he was not in it for the money. During our trip to and from Luskan, we grew... close." She blushed and continued, "He often goes out at night to hunt for fresh meat for the caravan but has never gone out this long. I am really worried for him and am afraid that something terrible has happened to him. The guards, " she indicated back to the circle of wagons, "never really got along with him and only pretended to try and find him when I asked them for help." She sighed and continued, "You seem like quite the capable sort, will you help me find him and return him to me?" She rubbed a tear from her cheek.
"Once you find him and bring him back, you can then have one of my horses to do with as you wish, "Aleria finished up and waited for the stranger's reply.
"So, I hunt down your wayward elven beau, drag him back here and you give me a horse, " the stranger summed up, "I accept."
"The caravan won't wait for Logaine's return, " Aleria sadly mentioned as the stranger started walking away and into the shadows of the forest, "we are headed to Neverwinter and plan to leave at dawn. Please hurry."
"I will find your lost elf, although I make no promises as to the condition he will be returned in, " the darkness whispered back to her...
(to be continued...)
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
Thanks,
but wait there's more!
Same bat-time, same bat-channel...
Okay may be not the same time, but part IV coming soon...
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
No more flashbacks! (no no, do whatever you want, i don't mind 'em flashbacks)
Yeah waiting with bated breath
I don't anticipate any more flash backs but who knows where muse takes me?!
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
Thank you Endingdawn, and never belittle yourself in writing talent. Your story has inspired me to imagine and write so much. It's interested as I feel a little bit like what R. A. Salvatore talks about in writing inside of a "shared world." I feel like I am writing my story in the world you created and weaving my story around the details to which you have supplied. Thanks for letting me play in your story to tell one of my own. 3 chapters down and I predict 2 more to go to complete my tale of our first meeting. Working on chapter 4 as soon as I finish perusing the forums tonight and I am really excited about chapter 5. I can't wait to start on it soon!
Thank for reigniting this passion for stories in the Source Stone Tavern, looking forward to catching back up to you in the forwarded timeline in the Tavern since your return, but need to finish this little blast from the past tale first....
*takes a swig of beer*
back to Neverwinter, <click> <click> <click> of the keyboard...
JS
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
Jade was no ranger by any means but she did possess the instinctual woodland skills that every elf was born with. The fact that the ground was still damp from the heavy rainfall a few days ago also helped Jade's tracking progress. [The hulking caravan guard's trail was easy enough to follow but an elf's would be much more subtle, ] Jade mused. A short while later, she came upon a fresh set of tracks headed northwest but quickly dismissed them as belonging to her elusive elven prey as they were less than a hour old judging by the sharpness of the edges and by the fact they were barefooted and over two feet in length. [Definitely not elven...] Jade thought as she slipped from shadow to shadow among the great oak tree trunks along the forest floor of the Neverwinter Woods.
She continued east through forest until she came upon a serene moonlit glade. To the northwest, Jade was able to see the peak or what was left of it of Mt. Hotenow and the steady plume of greyish smoke billowing from the top of the volcano, an ominous reminder of the incredible devastation that occurred 30 years ago and of the massive flames that continued to burn deep within the mountain to this very day.
So absorbed was elven rogue in the volcano that she failed to noticed that she was no longer alone in the glade. When Jade finally tore her eyes away from Mt. Hotenow, she felt the weight of eyes upon her and scanned the tree line in front of her and saw a large glowing pair of yellow eyes. She crouched down low in the tall grass of the glade, closed her right hand around the familiar grip of Forya, her trusty enchanted glassteel shortsword, belted on her left hip and her left hand around the equally familiar grip of Rakka, her drow-sleep-poisoned enchanted glassteel dagger sheathed at the small of her back, as an enormous brown wolf entered the glade in front of her.
Jade's first instinct was to draw her blades but something stayed her hands. Although the wolf's gaze was intently fixed upon her, there was no malice in those eyes, no bared teeth, and no low growl emanating from the wolf's throat. In fact, the wolf was giving her a look of... curiosity? From the corners of her eyes Jade saw multitudes of movement as other wolves began to emerge from the forest all around her. She was completely surrounded.
<Wonderful night for a nice walk, wouldn't you say?> Jade called out in elvish to the first appearing and largest of the wolves.
The large brown wolf began to shimmer and it slowly morphed into a tall dark-haired human male wearing the simplest of brown robes and leather laced sandals on his feet.
<Moon elf, who are you and what business do you have in the Llewyrrwood?>, the human male inquired back in elvish as he invoked the ancient elven name for the Neverwinter Woods.
Jade released the grips of her blades, stood straight up and pulled back the hood of her cloak. <Good druid, > she replied as she slightly extended her arms forward and raised up her open, empty palms in the elven gesture of respect, <I am Jade of House Korianthil of Evereska and I mean you, your kin, and this beautiful forest no harm. I am seeking another of The People, an elflord with hair the color of blood and eyes the color of truest silver. He may have passed through your woods near here perhaps as recently as some time tonight.> Jade paused ever so briefly to subtly check on the other "wolves" that still surrounded her and continued. <Perchance you have seen him tonight?> she inquired.
<I am Quilliam, > the dark-haired druid replied, <and my brothers and sisters, > he indicated to the assembled "wolves" surrounding Jade, <are all that remains of the Ring of Swords, the guardians of the Llewyrrwood.> A look of sorrow and regret washed over Quilliam's face.
<What happened?> Jade asked prompting Quilliam to continue.
<The Netherese... > he angrily replied through his teeth as he clenched his jaw and fists. <We tried to stop them when they first started encroaching upon the forest near Neverwinter, but we failed. Their numbers were far too great and their foul shadow magic was far too strong. They are holed up in several camps all throughout the Llewyrrwood. Your friend was taken when he tried to attack a particularly powerful group of them earlier this evening. If he still breathes, he will most likely be found in their camp not too far due north of here.>
<Thank you Quilliam, > Jade replied. <Is there anything I can do to help you?>
<After you have learned the fate of your friend, please go to Neverwinter and warn the people about the Netherese, > Quilliam answered, <I can spare no one to go as we need everyone here to try to hold back their approach to the city, > and with that he morphed back into a large brown "wolf."
<It will be done!> Jade swore as she watched Quilliam and the other "wolves" melt back into the dark forest.
[...]
Jade headed due north for almost two miles before her elven eyes picked up on the tell-tale glow of another campfire roughly three hundred yards to her right. [I think I won't be just walking into this camp, ] she wryly thought as she stealthily approached the camp from the southwest. The Netherese contingent had chosen a rather large clearing to set up their camp, Jade observed as she drew closer. She decided to stop at approximately two hundred yards from the Netherese camp at a particularly ancient and tall oak tree and climbed its thick and gnarled branches as nimbly as a squirrel. Jade did not want to risk running into sentries or activate any warding magic that might have been guarding the camp's perimeter, at least not until a time of her choosing.
While rogues, like she used shadows and darkness, the Netherese had come to fully embrace them even going as far as to make a part of the Shadowfell their primary base of operations. The Netherese from the Shadowfell had successfully imbued themselves with the power of shadows by each voluntarily sacrificing a piece of their soul in order to create a void that was filled with a shard of shadow essence. This reputedly painful process allowed one of the Prime Material Plane to become a being of shadows or a "shade" with powers and skills of shadow and darkness far beyond those of even the most skilled of "mortal" rogues. Jade had always been fascinated with the level of shadow power they commanded but the idea of giving up a portion of her precious elven soul absolutely revolted her.
As Jade neared the top of the tree, she chose a vantage point that provided her enough foliage to hide in but a good field of vision to see into the clearing. She reached into her belt pouch strapped on just to the right of Rakka and the small of her back and retrieved her spyglass. She quietly unfolded the most amazing gnomish device of glass and brass and peered into the camp.
Through the spyglass, Jade was able to discern eight figures in the firelight each dressed in the same dark robe bearing the sigil of the Netherese. [They are most definitely shades, ] Jade confirmed silently as she zoomed up and focused on the closest figure to her. She saw the grey hued skin on the face of what appeared to be a male dwarf, a warrior judging by the double-bladed battleaxe he had lain across his lap as he sat. She jumped from shade to shade and made mental notes of everything she saw in the firelight. In all, she counted three males: the dwarf, a tiefling, and a human. For females, she made out six: three humans, two tieflings and of all things, an elf! Jade felt a sudden wave of revulsion and had to pause for a bit. Once she resumed her scrutiny of the camp, she next noted whatever visible equipment each shade had. Most carried some form of melee weapon like the dwarf. Notable exceptions were the female elven shade who carried a shortbow, the male human and one of the female tieflings, both of which displayed no physical weapon that she could detect. [Most likely the spellcasters of the group, ] Jade surmised.
An enormous dark red blob suddenly filled her field of vision and she reduced the level of zoom on her spyglass. What she proceeded to see made her blood run cold and she nearly dropped the spyglass to the forest floor.
[...]
*{Translated from Supernal, the infernal language of devils}
{YOU WANT TO DO WHAT???!!!"} Mordekai exclaimed, with a look of utter disgust, up into the canine-like face of the seven foot tall war-devil or greater malebranche that stood directly in front of him a few yards away from the campfire.
His angry outcry elicited more than a few furtive glances from the shades surrounding the campfire. However, none dared to do anything but subtly shrug much less make even the smallest of comments about their war leader, a shadowy magelord who apparently and quite easily consorted with devils! He was dressed in a similar black robe as the rest of the shades but while their's were old, threadbare and ordinary, his looked brand new with the Netherese sigil seeming to radiate a glow independent of the fire or the pale light of the waning crescent moon. The huddled group of shades wondered about the sigil as it seemed to glow even brighter as the magelord grew even angrier or was it just a trick of the ambient light?
Moriera half expected the huge war-devil to pound the enraged magelord into a shapeless mass of goo with the affront of being berated as such. However, she, along with the rest of the shades by the campfire, were none too surprised when the war-devil dropped to one knee and started what appeared to be an effort to plead his case to the magelord. She couldn't be sure as she did not understand devil-speak but guessed from the displayed body language and tone of the animated exchange of hisses, gluttural tones, and throaty growls. Moriera clutched her cherry wood shortbow closer to her chest in an effort to calm the shivers which coursed through her body and had nothing to do with cold night air.
{Fine, fine, FINE!} Mordekai huffed in a tone of finality, {just do it on the other side of the clearing, the FAR side of the clearing.} He emphasized and indicated with a raised hand and pointed finger to the tree line towards the northeast. The greater malebranche wickedly grinned an impossibly wide smile full of jagged, yellowing teeth which turned even the iron constitution of Mordekai and looked down at the two medium sized piles at their feet and just to the left of them. One was a chaotic pile of gear gathered upon a cloak laid out flat upon the dirt ground which included a pair of silver leather boots, a pair of bronze metallic armbands, and a long, curving falchion with a beautiful white gem mounted on the dark metal crossguard. The other pile, which slowly stirred like a child caught up in some frightful nightmare, was none other than the crumpled unconscious form of Logaine dressed only in his undershirt and leggings. He was battered, bruised and still sported a wicked shoulder wound that had started to fester but he was still very much alive!
The greater malebranche reached down, easy lifted the elf up off of the ground, and flung him none too gently over one massive shoulder. With a final nod to the magelord, the greater war-devil ambled off towards the other side of the clearing where the other three minor war-devils had kept themselves busy by gathering wood.
Mordekai watched his summoned greater malebranche walk off with its prize and shook his head. Sometimes he really wondered why he dealt with such bizarre and wretched things but then he recalled the death and devastation that that one massive creature had single handedly wreaked over the last few weeks, not to mention the subordinate war-devils he commanded, and Mordekai realized that he really had no problem dealing with the "eccentricities" of foul denizens from the lower planes.
Mordekai strolled back to the campfire, looked over the silently sitting group of shades and rested a malevolent sneer upon his favorite "pet" shade. [More like favorite scapegoat, ] Mordekai thought with dark glee. "You, grey elf!" he bellowed with an evil smirk as he reached the edge of the campfire.
"Yes, magelord!" Moriera snapped off as she jumped up off of the ground and bowed before Mordekai in an act of fealty. She knew to hesitate was to invoke the wrath of the magelord which was a thousand times potentially worse than death itself.
That term of "grey elf" immensely stung Moriera and on so many levels. Before the painful process of becoming a shade, Moriera (who went by another name back then and only started calling herself Moriera meaning "Female Dark One" in elvish after the process) was a sun elf, a member of the proud Ar-Tel'Quessir. Back in those days, the term "grey elf" was a derogatory term ("grey" meaning "dross") used by sun elves to refer to the silver or moon elves that they felt were second class beings compared to the magnificence, intelligence, and wisdom of the Ar-Tel'Quessir. Mordekai intentionally misused that phrase in the first stinging meaning to insult her but purposefully meant the second meaning to painfully remind her of her current status as an elven shade sworn to serve him.
"You look like you could use some exercise, " Mordekai nonchalantly stated, "be useful for once and patrol the perimeter."
He knew the multiple layers of magical wards that he and Thyola the tiefling cleric had already laid down upon the ground surrounding the camp were more than adequate to warn them about any impending danger, but he always welcomed the opportunity to torment his favorite "pet."
"And mind you not to be too perceptive when you reach the northeast corner of the perimeter of the camp, " Mordekai wickedly smiled and indicated to the war-devils in the distance with a nod.
"You might not like what you see, hear or smell..." he added, his voice dripping with venom.
[...]
The greater malebranche was still grinning horn to horn as he approached the most remote corner of the forest clearing. He acknowledged his approval with a smiling nod towards the large pile of wood gathered by two of the minor war-devils and towards the gigantic spit fashioned from practically an entire tree trunk that was assembled over the wood pile by the third war-devil.
The greater malebranche then triumphantly dumped Logaine on to the ground next to woodpile and evilly announced in Supernal, {We eat well tonight!}
(to be continued...)
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
P.S. Yes! More users of Sleep Poison of the Drow. Thank you Liriel Baenre for making drow equipment and magic working on surface
Thanks! Hehe, no comment about the "eating of treehuggers part?" Your previous comments about eating elves no doubt were part of the inspiration for the end of chapter 4. Wonder if the devils will spit Endingdawn out if he tastes bad? ... b:chuckle
JS
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
Logaine is not going to die 'cause of his story and the Tavern :P
However it would be interesting to see.
And the malebranche spits chewed Logaines ear out alongside some of his crimson hair and spits how terrible the taste is
Just some poor text what i made up in fifteen seconds
Nice! b:laugh
Spoiler alert! : "Yeah, Logaine is not going to die, but the devils might chew on him a little bit, he does have like 2 legs after all right? J/K Endingdawn! *ducks under a thrown flaming dagger*"
Look for chapter 5 soon!
*eagerly rubs hands in anticipation*
JS
This city promises death for the meek, glory for the bold, danger for all, and riches for Jade!
Elven Trickster Rogue: Two-bladed elf, tons of stabby stabby and that sort of thing...
| R. A. Salvatore | My Minions | Forgotten Realms Wiki | Elven Translator |
And do they all taste like chicken?