==========oOo========== NEVERWINTER NEWS Issue # 110 Week Ending 12-03-95 ==========oOo========== *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* FRONT PAGE *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Congratulations to Mershu for winning last week's News of the Realm contestwith "Lechery of Evil". Mershu has earned the choice of 4 Pearls or Access to the GOH (Guild of Heroes) WTG! <><><><><> <><><><><> Location Hunt - 11/22 Sun Cutter was the first to find the Neverwinter Map shop in the Location Hunt on 11/22. Congrats Sun Cutter, you win 4 pearls and 1 hour online! :D -NW Sparkle <><><><><> <><><><><> November GoH booth #2 "The second GoH booth for November was held, and the challenge this time was to see who could withstand the least damage from Fire (fireball) and Ice (Ice storm)! The lead exchanged hands early, but then Shurg took control late in the event. Invoking the word of his god Myrkul, Shurg only took 30 points total damage, winning the 5 pearls. Congratulations to Shurg! :)" -NW Strahd <><><><><> <><><><><> Poison Booth winners - 11/29 Well, I named my poison for the poison booth in Berun 0,0 and managed to make the women weep and the men gnash their teeth with half of the contestants falling before my touch!! ;D The winners of 2 pearls apiece are: sewerurchi kaelith hr merlin abidaddi devin tir craymandax xo2 zeus ayffa Congrats to all who entered and condolences to those who didn't quite measure up. ;) Mystek <><><><><> <><><><><> Location hunt 11/29 Congratulations to Aarius who, on the request by Lord Nasher, was able to find the flower that made one ill. Rumors are abound of Nasher now trying to find a cure to its deadly poison. For his efforts, Aarius will gain 4 pearls and 1 free hour!" -NW Strahd <><><><><> <><><><><> This weeks winner of GOH access from the Great Hall Tavern is Mech Havoc! This month's winner of the random pearl drawing is V Selena! :D The Great Hall Tavern is open Wed and Fri nights from 11pm-1am eastern! :D NWT Cyane Your Friendly Neverwinter Tavernkeep <><><><><> <><><><><> (submitted by: Pyunna) ******** Bregan d'Aerth Lightning Bolt Booth Results ******** We wish to say thanks to all who took part in the Bregan's LB booth. Sagx was well fried by you all . The winners (who chose their prize out of a pool of four items) are as follows: 1st place . . . . . Traylar, who did a toasty 63 pts of damage and carried off a LB wand . 2nd place . . . . . Rascalwolf, who sizzled Sagx with 57 pts of damage and took home a Bag of Holding 3rd place . . . . . Sun Cutter, who fried our ever enduring Jabbuk with 52 pts of damage and carried away Bracers AC 3. Good Job all.. hope to see ya again at future events. <><><><><> <><><><><> Dear NW Abby, I've been having a bit of confusion in my life lately and hope you can help. I'm not sure how fast you can read so I'll write this letter slowly to explain. It started last week when I came out of the sewers after meeting some folks called, (I)'m (T)he (B)addest. Stumbling up to the surface stupid and blood all over with but a breath of life left. I find a NW guard in the main square who states, "Good evening all"..... He calls this good? It was getting so cold out, I figured I best look for shelter. I knew I must hurry for it had to be really cold out, for the local lawyer walked by with his hands in his own pockets. On the way to the inn I met a newb beggar who hadn't had a bite in a week, so I bit him. He died. Another newb wanted advice. I told him to read the hand book. "what handbook?" he asked. So I replied, "Why, the book in your hand." Oh. Of course he was looking for lots of experience fast. So, I gave him my badge and pointed out the entrance to the sewers assuring him that he would get more experience then what he would know to do with. Entering the inn, I noticed a sign on the wall that said "No halflings allowed" . When I inquired about this, the innkeeper replied, " I wants no low brows in here, because I run a swell dump." While taking off and polishing my elven chainmale that night, I noticed the id tag said elfin chain instead of elven. Could there be -Keebler- elves running around in NW? When I awoke in the morning I complained to the innkeeper about a beautiful lady coming to my room in the middle of the night. He replied, "There were no beautiful ladies in here last night." Guess he didn't understand..... that was my complaint ; ) On the way out I passed a huge woman with her arms full of packages. She exclaimed that if I was half a man I would help her. Of course if I wasn't an elf and she was half the woman I would ; ) The next night a beautiful woman bountifully endowed entered the place and wore an outfit described as (T)otaly (O)ut of (S)ight. I finally had to ask her how someone could get into an outfit like that. She responded, "Well, normally the guy buys me a drink first....." ; ) With that comment she brings a tobacco thingy up to her lips and seductively asked, "Match?" I readily replied, "They sure do!" In trying to regain my composure, I poured myself a drink and then hers telling her, "To say when." With a inviting grin, she responded, "How about after this drink?" Figuring I best hurry and do something before this young lady was attacked, I immediately left for my room. (ILAC) I Am Lost And Confused (submitted by: Wld Wil) Dear ILAC, You appear to be suffering from an acute attack of "slapstick-bad joke-itis" probably brought on by the seasonal change and the lunar cycle. Many people find, at this time of year, that they break out in uncontrolled good humor and merriment. Generally speaking, this is nothing to worry about, so long as its not a sustained effect. The most likely side-effects of this disease is sore facial muscles, watering eyes, and a belly which jiggles like a bowl of jelly. I would suggest that you simply relax and enjoy! Helpfully, NW Abby <><><><><> <><><><><> *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* NEVERWINTER CALENDAR *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Be on the look out for those Mini Booths that seem to pop up out of nowhere! Can you be at the right place at the right time when the NW calls for a location? Keep your eyes and ears open for these events! Watch for the banners! New Player Tours: Sunday December 3rd 8:00 PM ET - Join NW Thorn for a tour of the Realm. Those interested should keep an eye out for the banner telling where to meet!;D Tuesday December 5th 9:00 PM ET - Join NW Mystek for a tour of the Realm. Those interested should keep an eye out for the banner telling where to meet!;D Friday December 8th 11:00 PM ET - Join NW Archer for a tour of the Realm. Those interested should keep an eye out for the banner telling where to meet!;D <><><><><> <><><><><> Yuletide is fast approaching! As always, our own beloved NW Santa will be making stops in NeverWinter all throughout the month of December. The jolly old elf will have goodies in store for those smart and quick enough to find him, as he visits various locations in the realms. Each time Santa enters the realms, he will give a clue to his current location. The first three players who find Santa first will get gifts from him. Additionally in each visit, santa will randomly pick out a lucky adventurer who will also receive a gift. So, keep your eyes peeled, and those ears attuned to the sound of reindeer, and you may just find yourself going home with a shiny new item thanks to the man in red. NW Events <><><><><> <><><><><> Top Ten things in NW, that resemble real life (Submitted by: Wgbt) "From Luskan, the city that never bathes... It's the Lateshow with Wagebolt!!!!! Geust starring... uh.... nobody! And now...The elf on a hot tin roof....WAGEBOLT!!!!!" ::Wagebolt enters Lord Nasher's Palace with another Blue index card:: "Thankyou! And Welcome! I'm am your host, Wagebolt of the Winterguard, and I have for you now, from the home office in The NightsEdge Caverns, tonight's top ten list!" ::hooray:: For tonights top ten we have... (Once again) Top Ten things in NW that resemble things in real life. 10:KAAOS & Calvin Kline 9:The ,"cause disease,"cleric spell & Fastfood from Burger King 8:Potion of Healing & Asprin 7:Umber Hulk & Newt Gingrich 6:Battle Axe +3 & BIC Razors 5:Gridle of CG strength & WonderBra 4:Boots of Speed & Air Pumped Nike Sneakers 3:Dracoliches & Safety Scissors 2:ITB & the Entire U.S. Congress 1:Nasher Quests & O.J. Simpsons search for the real killers!!!!!!! "Thankyou for watching!" ::throws indexcard out the window:: The Undermountain (submitted by: Kaeyne X) The half-ork barkeep glanced at the obviously angry drow with alarm. Although open fighting was not allowed within Skullport, many had been slain by the dark elves for real or imagined slights. Kaeyne mulled over his ale in The Thrown Gauntlet, cursing his luck. The holds of his ship were barely a third full, but he had been recalled from his raid on the world of Greyhawk. The missive from Ilharess Veltheera Veladorn had taken months to reach his Spelljammer as it plied the phlogiston beyond Realmspace. A simple mindlink would have enabled the same information to reach him in minutes, but the Ilharess had opted for a more... secure form of communication. Kaeyne smiled inwardly as he remembered the arrival of the Baatezu that had delivered the message. Most of the startled crew of his 'jammer, the Darkend Blade, had fled for their lives as the pit fiend strode before the captain of the ship. With a bow, the Baatezu had delivered the sheaf of paper to Kaeyne, directing him to return to Faerun to retrieve a "lost" daughter of House Veladorn. It seems the child had converted to the worship of the cursed Eilistraee, and led a band of traitorous drow out of the Underdark. The group had established a hold in a place called Undermountain, situated beneath the surface city of Waterdeep. After arriving home, he learned that the departure of such a large portion of his House had not gone unnoticed, and a rival house had quickly destroyed what remained. Now Outcast, he would have his revenge on the traitors that had caused his house's downfall. It was rumored that the vast dungeon of Undermountain was created by a lone, mad wizard named Halaster. It seems the whole place was his playground and laboratory, where he toyed with mortals and field tested new spells and magical creations. Tales of riches and magics to be had brought adventurers in droves to the underground maze, and not a few of the fools made the place their graves. Such a place would provide a fairly safe haven for the renegade drow, but would make their hunt that much easier also. Kaeyne quietly rose from his seat, tossed a few gold pieces on the table, and left the tavern. He entered the streets of Skullport, and again considered the city. Situated hundreds of feet below the surface, it was truly an underground port. Magical gates allowed sailing ships from the Realms Above to arrive at the shores of the Sargauth, the River of the Depths. Barges from the depths of the Underdark traveled via similar teleports, allowing trade between the surface and the Realms Below. Duergar, svirfneblin, dwarves, illithids, drow, orcs, kuo-toa, humans, and sahuagin mingled in the deadly streets, buying and selling everything. Passing the slave and beast pens, Kaeyne strode into the merchant quarter in search of a man named Thalandar. It was said that the human knew much of the workings of Undermountain, and might be able to provide a map of the maddening place.... A few hours later, Kaeyne and a small band of his crew slipped through the mazeworks of tunnels that comprized this area of Undermountain. The vast dungeon was actually a conglomerate of smaller diggings of long lost dwarven clans, human storage areas, and gnome tunnels. The combination of natural and worked tunnels reminded him of his home, the subterranian city he had left many years ago to venture in the stars... the city where his House no longer existed, from which he was forever an outcast... Pressing such thoughts from his mind, Kaeyne concentrated on the path ahead. This area of tunnels showed signs of extended inhabitance, and they had dispatched several groups on yuan-ti. The vile serpent-men usually avoided drow patrols, but their antagonistic posture convinced Kaeyne that their lair must be near. According to the human's map, that would put his band close to the suspected Temple of Eilistraee that Iliryztara, his sister, had established. Kaeyne's heart grew cold as he thought of the betrayal of his own blood. Many of her followers were taken from his House's guard, but many were renegades and outcasts of other houses. Lloth would feed on all their souls soon enough. Just ahead, the sounds of metal on metal, of cursing and dying. The group of star-sailors quickly blended with the walls of the tunnel, concealing themselves from those who saw light and those who saw heat. Moving cautiously forward, Kaeyne saw a small band of drow fighting off a band of yuan-ti nearly five times their size. Muttering a divination spell, Kaeyne looked closely at the new drow's auras. The muted flashing of red and white among the fighters convinced the watcher that he had found some of his prey. Casting a spell to mask his own aura, Kaeyne motioned to his men to conceal themselves. He then strode forward, uttering words of power... The beleagered drow stood in amazement as their snake-man enemies boiled under Kaeyne's lightning. As the sounds of death receded, they looked to their savior. "I am Kaeyne Veladorn, and I wish to see my sister", said the drow captain. .... to be continued Fair is Fair (Submitted by: Fair Star) Fair Star said her goodbyes to her cousin Mavralyn at the Triboar Inn. She was uncertain as to what had actually happened to her. Mav had related a story to her that seemed to match her foggy memory of recent events. Mav's anger had been apparent, and understandable. Fair's last clear memory was waking from a feeblemind induced stupor at the temple in Triboar. Fair sat at a table and sipped her wine while waiting for a meal that Mav had apparently arranged for her. She looked thru her packs and tried to remember what had befallen her. As best as she could piece together, the evening before she had been chatting with some of her brother and sister Knights and her squire KEF Puma. They had spoken of quests they had pursued and planned to accomplish. Of course Puma's recent accomplishment of finishing the lifegiver quest while under the effects of a feeblemind had come up in the conversation. Somehow the talk had turned to the justice of an ArchKnight sending a squire on a quest she had not accomplished. KEFWarHawk, KEFKaitlyn, KEF Puma, and Sir Ronin all concluded that Fair should attempt the same feat that she had required of her squire. When Fair heard Hawk say "Fair is fair, Fair" she had agreed to attempt the feat that very night. After a short discussion of how best to accomplish the task Fair ran off to the vaults to gather items that she thought would be sufficient. She then returned to Triboar and accepted the return of the very same fireball wand she had given Puma for his attempt at the lifegiver. With her scrolls and items gathered Fair headed to the arena with her brothers and sister, to allow them to cast the feeblemind spell on her. Once in the arena, Puma asked if she was ready. Fair remembered thinking "what need I do to prepare to be feebed?" The fight was started and the spells were cast. She clearly remembered seeing "Fair is stupid" and the "Fair is already stupid" time after time, this flashed before eyes it would seem 10 times! With her mind in a fog, she saw the Knights end the fight and cast some protection spells on her. Puma then escorted her to the Westbridge gate, pointed her south and told her to retrieve the lifegiver from those who now held it. Her memory of the events that then unfolded was very muddled. Apparently she had eluded all attackers successfully until the encounter with the very sorceress that held the staff of health hostage under the town of WestBridge. Fair had used a few of her scrolls to prepare to fight the Sorceress as a voice in the back of her now nearly empty head had suggested. Fair entered the lair and began to fight. She faced her opponents determinedly but fell victim to a spell which destroyed her protections and then one that further muddled her thinking. The effects of the charm expired at the southern side of the Westbridge/Triboar gate. She wandered back into Triboar to rest at the Inn. At the Inn she again encountered the Knights who were very concerned for her. They spoke words of encouragement and offered to renew her supply of scrolls containing arcane writings that she could no longer understand, but surprisingly could still use when need arose. Fair accepted a few new items and once again was walked to the gate. After receiving a few more preparatory spells, being blessed and praying to Tyr, she headed south once again. This trip was eased by the comforting nearness of her squire. It seemed that Puma was concerned that in her present state of mind, if she still had a mind, she could be easily duped by wandering evils. Puma stayed near her but did not provide direct assistance in the fights that she faced. Her memory was unclear, but perhaps, Puma had distracted a few of the creatures who frequent the area. This had eased her return to once again face the sorceress. Outside the sorceress's lair, Fair steeled her nerve and entered. This time she reflexively cast a poisonous cloud on the evil witch and her minions. Fair then grabbed the fireball wand and let loose its power. After a few uses the wand crumbled to dust in her hands. She then pulled her sword from her scabbard and started swinging it in the easy patterns that DFoeHammer and Theido had taught her. It seems that the skillful use of her blade had become part of her. Fair's mind was unable to comprehend how she fought, but fought she did. Her opponents fell quickly as Tyr himself directed her blade. When the last opponent fell, she lifted the staff of life from the dead body of the sorceress. She heard Puma shout with joy at her accomplishment. Fair rested briefly in a near by secluded spot and then walked out of the under, evading several more would be attackers. After reaching the surface Puma reminded her that she needed the Orb of Life to go with the staff that she held. He pointed her further south and off she went to recover the Orb. Again she evaded all encounters and reached the Beholder's lair that contained the orb. She entered the lair and faced several cloud giant shamans and a beholder. The evils all began casting at her and she swung her sword with purpose. Several of the shamans fell, before the holder was able to focus his evil glare on her. One of those eyes must have succeeded, she found herself once again at the Westbridge/Triboar gate. Feeling saddened and confused, Fair stumbled north. Apparently she encountered her cousin Mavralyn and the Inn Wench known as Nikki talking with Puma in the Inn. The four of them went to the arena where Mav and Puma danced briefly, each of them tripping at least once. The four then retired to some secluded room. They shared some wine and Fair remembered feeling very content and happy. Nikki had given her a teddy bear, that she still carried, it had comforted her greatly. Puma and Mav must have argued but over what she could not remember. Fair's next memory was awaking in the Inn to find a young elf who carried gifts for her. Not knowing what else to do Fair accepted the gifts and headed south once again to attempt the feat. Her trip this time was much more difficult, her invisibility failed her early and she had to depend on her swift feet and Tyr to see her through. Tyr did not fail her, she managed to out distance all pursuers and once again reach the holder's lair. Using a few of the items that she had been given Fair prepared and then faced the evils. She remembered dreaming of this fight and how to approach it. She used one arcane scroll to place a poisonous cloud on the giants and clerics. She then used another to turn invisible to allow the cloud to work its damage. When the cloud dissipated, she used a third scroll to teleport to the other side of her opponents. She then raced into an adjoining room and readied her fine long bow and magic arrows. She used the bow to finish all but one of the evils. The final giant was slain using her sword after he rushed her in her room. The orb of life was then easily obtained and taken to Alinster Crostrum to be joined into the lifegiver. Fair faced a few more opponents which she defeated relying on her bow, wand, and luck to see her thru. Reaching the upper, she once again encountered her cousin. Mav asked her questions she could not comprehend. Mav lead Fair by the hand to the temple. Fair remembered being uncertain as to why she was to go to the temple, but go she did. It was a very good thing that Mav had found Fair wandering WestBridge. She could easily have been latched onto by those who would have taken advantage of her condition. Seems a Knight should have been waiting to pick her up and take her to the temple. This is likely what had raised Mavralyn's anger. Fair's meal arrived at her table, returning her mind to the present. She held the lifegiver in her hand, had a headache to remind her that she had been feebed, and could see the small teddy bear in her pack. It would seem she had matched the feat that she had required of her squire. She smiled and thought, I'll have to remind Hawk that I am Fair. Piney's Laws of PvP and Non-PvP Combat (Submitted by: NOR Piney) 1. If the enemy is in range, so are you. 2. Incoming fire has the right of way. 3. Don't look conspicuous, it draws fire. 4. There is always a way. 5. The easy way is always boobytrapped. 6. Try to look unimportant, they may be low on spells. 7. Professionals are predictable, it's the amateurs that are dangerous. 8. The enemy invariably attacks on two occasions: a. when you're ready for them. b. when you're not ready for them. 9. Teamwork is essential, it gives them someone else to try to kill. 10. The enemy diversion you have been ignoring will be the main attack. 11. A "sucking chest wound" is nature's way of telling you to slow down. 12. If your attack is going well, you have walked into an ambush. 13 . Never draw fire, it irritates everyone around you. 14. Anything you do can get you killed, including nothing. 15. Make it tough enough for the enemy to get in and you won't be able to get out. 16. Never share a foxhole with anyone braver than yourself. 17. If you're short of everything but the enemy, you're in a combat zone. 18. When you have secured an area, don't forget to tell the enemy. 19. Never forget that your magical weapon is made by the lowest bidder. Squire Piney, *NOR/ A Live Tree for Christmas (Submitted by: DSaner) ::DSaner walk in the Seeker hall with a tree floating behind him:: "Solack didnt you ask for a live tree for Christmas??" "Why yes is this a tree we can use??" "Of course. You asked a ranger to go get one so here it is. Want me to Plant it in the Seeker Hall Square??" "Sure that would be great." "I have also learned a spell that will put an invisible protection around the tree. It will water it and make sure it has plenty of sunlight. It will also protect it againts vandalism(I dont think that is possible since the Dragons guard the gate). "Good job DSaner. From now on if we need any plant or Tree you can be the Offical gardener" "Thanks M'Lord Solack" ::DSaner walks into the Seeker Square:: ::He raises his hands, the tree rises hi in the air:: ::He bows his head:: ::The Tree starts to glow:: ::He lowers his hands and the tree magically go into the hard fertil soil:: ::The Tree still glows with amazemint:: "There you go my freind. Please grow and prosper. For you are a sign of good," ::DSaner Pauses:: "You are the Seekers first Christmas Tree" ::DSaner walks away with a smile on his face:: The Guild of Seekers (Submitted by: DSaner) The Guild of Seekers was created by Highlord Silinary, who was a great warrior in the eyes of many. Silinary, as a young lad, started in the lands with only a rusty sword and a dented shield which was given to him by his grandfather as a gift. Silinary was not a rich lad, all of 5 coppers to his name when he entered these lands. He traveled the countryside, defeating monsters and finding treasures, all the while gaining experience in battle. He wandered into the town of Neverwinter one day and found that this town was graced by the gods. To live in Neverwinter was a blessing no one could imagine. Silinary took up residence in this town. A day came when he heard of great treasures in a place known by travelers as the Lost Hills. The gods shined upon him, and pushed him to go. He traveled for almost three settings of the sun, weary and in pain, he had reached the outskirts of a dark area......The Lost Hills. Journeying forth into the darkness, Silinary found a tavern and decided to take up lodgings for the night. An evil presence was felt on the back of his neck. People who were filled with darkness circled him as he entered. They laughed and taunted poor Silinary. "What 'ave we 'ere?", sneered one of them, "A soldier of light, how pretty," sneered another. Silinary felt uneasy, very uneasy. "We's takin ov'a dis lan...ya goodie, prepare ta die!!!", yelled a third. At that moment Silinary was jumped by thirty of these individuals and put down instantly with a dagger to the throat. In the darkness of death, Silinary saw visions, visions of blackness encapsulating his world. Then he saw a light in this blackness, and in the middle of this light was a warrior with shining white hair and green and blue armor. Around him were others with the same gleaming white hair and the same sort of armor, and they were fighting, fighting this darkness! Driving it back from which it came, back to the pits of hell! "Seek ye out the evils that lurk, destroy this evil....", a voice flowed through, "Return this land to the splendor of which it once was....." By the hands of the gods, Silinary awoke in a temple dedicated to the gods of law and order. He awoke with a name on his lips, a name of a man to be his aide. A man born of the gods, the great paladin Phantra. Silinary was lead to Phantra, and told him of the words spoken to him in his death. "Aye M'Lord, I have had the same visions, These words are sent from the gods, they are our symbol now. Seek and Destroy we will yell, we will yell this as we defeat these vile creatures of darkness!", Phantra spoke. And they did. They went to Seek out evil and destroy it, so to return the lands as they once were. Many men and women came to join Silinary and Phantra on their cause. The group grew and grew. Villagers knew these men and women from their battle cry. They became known as the Seekers. When individuals became Seekers a transformation took place. Their hair turned a glowing white, their armor or the clothes they were wearing turned blue and green. Phantra called upon the gods for an explanation of this transformation. In a dream the gods spoke to Phantra, "My son, you ask so boldly and so purely, you shine with an inner light thus it bleeds through your pores and your hair. You radiate with honor which causes your armor to cast a green tint. You sweat the valors of true spirit which shows itself as blue. These are your marks, seek new people and share this with them......" Phantra awoke by this, thought a bit and nestled back to sleep, when suddenly he was awakened again, this time by a creature of unknown origin. With the speed of lightning Phantra was up, sword in hand, and his blade to the creature's throat. "Only an evil demon would sneak in at this hour of darkness, to stab a person while he sleeps! Speak creature or feel my blade!" Phantra yelled. "I have a message for you, a message from the gods, your gods..." stammered the creature. "Speak it! One false word and you shall surely perish!" "At this moment M'Lord, Silinary is having dreams of a journey he must take from which he will never return..." ,"Why not...tell me!" yelled Phantra. "The gods have been watching him, they feel he needs to be with them....see....they lack a champion on their realm...", "Go on." Phantra sighed. "The gods wish to take him tonight, but in his place, they want you to be their champion....their champion here....Silinary saw this vision when he died....he saw you and many brethren fighting this evil plague, you are the one to be the champion, and lead the Seekers to triumph.......Will you accept this fate....this fate set by the gods....will you?" Phantra's face turned...the thought of losing his Lord, his friend, hesitantly Phantra spoke, "I will return Neverwinter to what it once was, I accept this fate for which the gods have dealt me." ---------------------------------- After Phantra took the Seekers to the level of greatness that he wished to attain, he felt that there was no longer a need for his driving force, and feeling weary and tired he called his trusted leaders to his side. "You have served with me thru many hard and troubled times my friends, but my work here is come to an end...I must leave this keep, and travel other roads... Wkndwarr, I know that you will take the Seekers farther down the path I have laid out for them, and keep the Seekers whole and strong....and with that in my mind, I feel the Seekers to be in good hands.." Bowing before his Lord, Wkndwarr swore fealty to the Seeker creedo and to death would he lead the Seekers to greatness!!! Today ------- One day Wkndwarr, Solack, and I went to the very spot Silinary was mugged by the evil. "I know the gods are watching and listening. I must go far away, out of the realms of Neverwinter. I will not return for a very long time, mayby never. So, as my last item of buisness as Highlord of the Seekers I appoint Solack as the new Highlord of the Seekers." "Thank ye m'lord, I will bring the Seekers to great power and everyone in Neverwinter will know the name of the Seekers!!" Said Solack. I stood there in pure amazement. "But m'lord, will you ever be back???" I said. " I will do what the gods have called me to do, they will choose if I ever come back." Wkndwarr said. "I will miss ye m'lord." I said. Solack and I watched him walk out the door. We tryed to follow him but when we got out the door he was gone. "My first order of business, I, Solack, now promote you, DSaner, Forestall of the Seekers, to DSaner Asst. Highlord of the Seekers. Together we will raise the Seekers to a new heights of glory!!!!"..... DSaner Asst. Highlord of the Seekers Recruiting Officer of the Seekers Farewell (Submitted by: FatherMatt) It had been a grave error for her to enter the tavern at this hour, searching for her father. The cloak could not contain the feminine sway, the hood could not conceal the faint blush framed by delicate curls. A scarred fighter, clothed in red-trimmed black, caught the slender wrist as she passed, and wrestled her into the rough-hewn chair beside him. "Tarry a bit, my lady," he seethed as he pulled her close. "I am Mechnar. You shall know me well." No one moved in the silence, cowed perhaps by the glinting sword that lay across his table. She tried to squirm away, but Mechnar's free hand slid to her waist, then upwards across her breast. Matt could stand no more. "Free her, knave." His voice squeaked like a dry cart wheel. "What have we here?" Mechnar gave a twisted grin. "A child in man's clothes? A pup still sucking from its bitch? Thou art not e'en fit entertainment." He turned to the young woman and ran his hand between her struggling thighs. Matt hurtled through the air, crashing across the tabletop into Mechnar. He was lost in a jumble of thrashing limbs and toppling chairs. Matt fought with anger, but Mechnar outweighed him by at least two stone, and was well experienced. When Matt grabbed for Mechnar's throat, the side of his head exploded with pain, and he slumped to the ground in a daze. "So you would deny me my prize, lamb." The words floated in the distance. Even through the haze Matt could feel pointed leather boot slam into his ribs, once and then again. He could scarcely breath; a fire burned along his chest and the stench of stale ale and sawdust filled his nostrils. "Well, perhaps thou needs to be shorn." Matt could feel his head pulled upwards by his hair. A knife blade scraped along his skull, and his head fell with a thud to the floor. Another hank was pulled, then cut, his head crashing to the floor again. He lost track of the cuttings, and could barely perceive being hauled roughly from the floor, then thrown across a broad shoulder. He heard the grating of a wooden door, then was hurled into the cold mud. When he awoke, it was almost dawn. He pulled himself to a sitting position. The tavern was shuttered and dark. His head throbbed with each heartbeat, each breath was painful and the cold had seeped to his bones. He staggered to a nearby inn and hammered on the locked door, rousting a sleepy innkeeper who cursed him roundly. Matt slid him a coin and trudged the stairs. He locked the door to his room behind him, collapsed on the bed without undressing and dropped into a deep slumber. At one point, dimly, there was knocking and yelling, but he drifted away again in moments. Finally, he was aware of something sharp sticking his thigh. He fumbled his hand beneath him--and found his dagger. The fight had happened so quickly he had forgotten to reach for it! His brother would surely mock him for that. John was five years the elder, fair of face and born to sword and bow it seemed, for he wielded both with effortless grace. Try as he might, Matt could never match the sleek tension when his brothers' blade snickered through the air, or the loping run that ended in an arrow gracefully arcing to its distant target. Perhaps because it seemed hopeless that he would ever fight as well as John, Matt neglected his studies of spells and weaponry. It made John angry. "You must pay attention, Matt, for one day your life may depend upon it!" And perhaps that had led to other roughness between them. Matt recalled when John and he were crossing a tumbling river in a tall forest. John danced across the mossy log that lay above the foam, but Matt slipped and fell into the roaring waters. Swept by the overpowering currents, buffeted against the rocks, he could not break free of the river. It was his brother's strong arm that looped around his chest and pulled him to a large rock. Once on shore, his brother tousled his hair and told him not to study swimming from fish so closely--and Matt pushed his brother aside and walked away in anger. Yet Matt found himself trying to spend as much time with John as he could, and fought more than one fistfight when his brother's honor was questioned, as it often was, in conversations regarding someone's sister. John was the reason he had traveled to this miserable town. Despite his brother's protests, Matt had joined a raiding party harassing the orc army to the north. A strike against an orc scouting party was poorly planned; an orc company was within shouting distance, and the raiding party was overrun. Only his quickness and a dense bramble saved him from death. It took him fully a day to evade the orcs and return to the site. The bodies reeked in the sun, but his brother's was not among them--and since the orcs took no prisoners, he felt sure his brother had escaped. He rubbed his hands over his face--and discovered the scabs and stubble that now covered his head. He thought of Mechnar's twisted grin and contemptuous laughter, and the look of horror on the young woman's countenance. He will die for this, Matt decided. The thought both chilled and excited him: though he had slain others in battle, he had never planned a killing. A cap must be purchased first, however, to hide his disgrace. He gathered his belongings, hid the dagger beneath his cloak, and lurched down the stairs. "My word, the dead have arisen," growled the landlord, stroking his bristly triple chins with a meaty hand. "Ain't you a sight. Well, that's what you young lads get for drinking and whoring and fighting. Didnja hear me pounding at your door? You been here more than three days--and I'll see some more coin from ya now." Matt tossed him the money and asked where he could buy a cap, then stumbled outside into the fading autumn light. The directions the innkeeper had given him led him through winding, narrow alleys to a place where the peeling walls themselves seemed to sag. He stopped the shopkeeper just as the man was closing for the evening. "With this damn war, you are the first customer I have had all day," he grumbled. Matt ducked inside, where the bustle of the town were dampened by the cloaks and dresses. He ran his hand along the kittenish softness of a velvet cape. "Keep your hands off unless you plan to buy!" He found many caps he liked, but none were sized right, so he finally settled for the one he hated least that fit. Outside it was nearly dark, and he lost his way, the passages becoming even more crowded and dilapidated. Matt cursed; if it were not for that bastard Mechnar, he would not be here. He recalled Mechnar kicking and insulting him as he lay on the tavern floor, and vowed that Mechnar would die slowly. Lost in his musings, he did not see the shadowy figure approach. Suddenly a club was raised. "Just hand your money over and there won't be anna problem, me lad." The bastard was trying to rob him! Without a thought, his hand found the dagger beneath his cloak. He lunged and stabbed. With a groan, the other slumped to the dirt. Matt felt for the man's breath, but there was none. Curses! He had not meant to kill him, only drive him off. A letter and a scroll fell from the dead man's pocket, the scroll rolling across the ground. Matt grabbed it and unfurled the crackling parchment. Beneath a blue flame surrounded by eight candles were the words "The Holder of this Scroll may cast one Fireball. May Mystra guide thy Magics." He inhaled sharply. This would serve Mechnar well! He reached then for the letter. The writing was large, shaky and crude. "My goode freind Thomas. The orcs burnt the crops, and we has no foode. If thou couldst spare a smalle loan, I woulde be forever in thy debt. We had to move and are now in a ruined shoppe at 68 Cotswald." Matt looked at the man; his face was gaunt, his body slight. He sighed. The poor devil looked like he had not eaten in days. "Rest in peace, old timer," he said, and closed the eyelids over the mans' sightless eyes. He wandered for some time before finding a better part of town. Finally, he found an inn and took a room, taking directions to Cotswald before retiring. The next morning he set out for 68 Cotswald. He located the shop near the outskirts of the town. The door hung open, and he found an older woman weeping at the table. She raised a tear-streaked face. "If ye be looking for my husband, he was kilt last night. Some cursed robber, no doubt." Matt stared up, and saw the blueness of the sky through a sizable hole in the sagging roof. "I am sorry, ma'am." "Did you know him, then?" He fidgeted. "Only a little, ma'am." He reached into his purse and pulled from it the sole gold piece he had, then laid it quietly on the table. "These are hard times, ma'am. Perhaps this will help." Then he turned and stepped outside before his own tears could show. That afternoon he strolled the taverns, asking casually about Mechnar, fingering the scroll inside his pocket. "Aye, he's a bad one," said one pock-marked fellow wearily. "When he's passing through, he usually prefers the taverns in the eastern part of town, where the constable is less likely to go and the women art more willing, if you catch my drift." Matt bought him an ale for his efforts and slipped away. He recognized the graceful stride first, a lilting, confident motion by the figure far down the street. It could be only John. He ran like a child, caring not what others thought, and threw his arms around his startled brother, nearly knocking him to the cobblestones. "My God, John, I feared the orcs might have killed you!" His brother laughed, the impish smile softening the square chin and lake-blue eyes, the visage that the ladies liked so well. "Nay, little brother, but they did chase me for days. I paid those orcs well for their efforts. I killed them one by one, until the rest lost heart and gave up the chase. I circled back to the battle, but did not find your body there." He was quiet for a moment, and his mouth tightened. "Brave friends died in that fight. Dave and Andrew--they saved my life more than once. I wish I could have done the same for them. I buried them there. It took me forever, and I was almost jumped twice by orcs, but at least they rest safely now." "Let us drink to their memory, then." Soon they sat across an oaken table, the yeasty smell of fine brown ale curling up from their mugs. The first toast, a solemn one, was to their fallen companions, the second a curse on all orcs. "Say, that's an odd-looking cap thou hast there," chortled John, as he snatched it from Matt's head. "Ooh. What a haircut! You must find a better barber!" "Give me that," said Matt. "This bastard Mechnar did this to me, after I tried to stop him from pawing an innocent lass in a tavern. I am going to kill him," he added coolly. "Nay, my brother, there is enough killing of humans already with this war. We do not need to kill each other. Besides, he hast done you no permanent harm." "That is easy for you to say. You were not beaten, shorn and tossed in the mud to be left for the night." "I will have no part of this, Matt. We humans need every able-bodied fighter we have, whether the man be a knave or not." The barmaid stopped to refill their mugs, and smiled at Matt. John put his hand on her arm. "Thank you, gracious lady. Thou art most kind to serve us." The impish grin glowed, and the maiden giggled, pressed her hand to her mouth, beamed and stumbled away. "Hey, she smiled at me first," Matt protested. "This is going to be just like Lorien, isn't it?" "This woman is a barmaid, in case thou hadn't noticed. And Lorien was a different matter completely. She was my age, not yours." "But I loved her and you knew it." "But she did not love thee, little brother. And if you were a bit more observant of other people, you would see things like that." Matt flung his ale at his brother, who wiped himself in stunned silence. "You had no call to do that, Matt. Here we just find each other again and already you start a fight." "You won't help me with Mechnar and you insult me as well. I can do better on my own." "Fine, then. Go." Matt slapped a coin on the table and left. He wandered to the eastern end of town, poking his head into each tavern he passed, still seething over his brother's comments. He would deal with Mechnar himself. Finally he glanced into one tavern, more raucous than the rest, and saw the black raiment trimmed with red that was Mechnar's. He was seated at the far end of the room, alone except for a barmaid. He had clasped her hand, and she was trying to escape from him. "Let her go, Mechnar. You and I have business." Mechnar looked over. "Well, well, it's the pup again. I see your shearing last time was not enough to persuade you to leave me alone. This is getting old, whelp. This time you will have to die." The barmaid took advantage of the confusion to break loose, running to the bar and hiding behind it. The other patrons drew back. Matt strode to the center of the room and pulled his dagger. Too late he noticed that Mechnar had drawn a knife, holding it blade first and beginning his throw. A blur shot past Matt from behind, and John's stout arm slammed into Mechnar's sending the blade spinning off harmlessly. But the force of John's lunge carried him past Mechnar, and he slammed beyond into the wall, landing in a heap. Mechnar quickly seized his sword and charged for Matt. Clutching the parchment in his hand, Matt uttered the spell. The fireball lit the room with a blinding white-yellow light as it exploded next to Mechnar. Screaming hideously, Mechnar grew white and then vaporized, leaving a spiral of smoke where he had stood. His sword, glowing red with heat, clattered to the floor. "Not bad, eh brother?" Matt said. Only then he noticed that the side of his brother that had been closest to Mechnar was badly burned. His brother gasped, fell to his knees, then toppled to the floor. Matt ran to his side and knelt. Gently he cradled his brother's head in his arms, amidst the stench of burned cloth and skin. The blue eyes flickered with pain, and a hand reached up. "I shall miss you, Matt." John clenched Matt's fingers for a moment, then the spark slowly faded from his eyes. Matt hung his head, bending from the weight of his own shoulders. The scene blurred, the outlines of his brother's form and the chair legs wavering; the room spun in a gentle, distant roar, and Matt did not move for a long, long time. The Fortress (Submitted by: H McDeath) You thought I died.........,WRONG!! My fortress rebuilt over the ruins of the last. Stronger than the last as has been going on since my conception. Destroyed only to strengthen and rebuild. Which, no doubt, will happen again, again, and again till my death. Act not surprised you knew it would happen sooner or later, The new bricks would be in place and life would go on. Be not sorry or sad I hold no grudge against your unknowing, senseless destuction upon such a sheltered and pure soul. So I sink back to my tower to await the arrival of the next siren to lure me from my stronghold. Just to watch it topple as my first step into the light of a new day begins, wishing that this one doesn't disappear like a vapor trail. No Contact!! Assassins (Submitted by: Lady Olive) Olive staggered through the doorway of her Neverwinter apartment, a tipsy grin on her face. On this particular evening, she was wearing a tight black dress with a low neck line; her broadsword was peace bonded at her hip with a black velvet ribbon. As the elf slumped down before the fire, her ebony tresses fell loosely out of their bond to curl about her shoulders. She could only remember small scraps of the hours before, as she had spent them drinking large quantities of ale in the Great Hall Tavern. When she tried to think back, her memory clouded. All that came to mind was the face of a man. He had a thick red beard and bushy eyebrows which covered the beadiest little eyes she'd ever seen; the only other significant thing about him was a small tattoo on his left forearm-with a symbol the elf thought she knew but couldn't place. Olive had sparked an argument with him, only to see him fade back into the shadows with an evil glare in his eyes. A small chuckle escaped from her throat as her elegant black cat rubbed against her thigh, purring merrily. The elf reached down to stroke the cat, but noticed the odd glint in the creatures piercing green eyes. "What's the matter, Onyx? You seem-" At that very moment, she felt a small pain in the small of her back. She reached back and pulled out a small dagger covered with green slime. Her eyes widened and she fell face first to the ground. Onyx startled and ran out a small hole in the wall that was just big enough for the cat. * * * The elven woman's eyes fluttered open as her body shook off the last of the dagger's venom. She realized that it must not have been very long since she was knocked out, because elves were naturally resistant to induced sleep. Olive looked around, curious as to where she was being held. It was a small stone cell, with a barred door on the wall opposite her. As she tried to stand, something pulled her back down; at that she noticed an iron manacle around her left ankle. Instinctively she reached to her hip, but of course her captors had taken her broadsword. With a sigh she reached down the front of her dress, producing a small silver breast dagger. She worked at the lock to no avail, for the dagger was too large to fit inside. Besides, she thought, I stopped my thief training long ago. Hanging her head, she surrendered herself to the situation. * * * Onyx fled through the side of the building, following the assassin who had carried off her elven companion. He was of small build, nothing Olive couldn't handle-except for the fact that the dagger had been poisoned. She followed him closely into the warehouse districe, but hesitated the slightest bit as he ducked into the Potter's Guild. Finally she decided that she would go on, being extra careful. Inside, he knocked on a red brick wall and it slid open silently. The cat had to hurry to get in after him. On their left was a row of cells, some with hands reaching through the bars of the door and captives moaning pleas for help. The assassin put Olive into one of them, and shackled her left ankle. As he turned about, the cat darted into a crevice in the wall to avoid discovery. She watched her mistress silently as the man left and the elf awakened. * * * Olive noticed a pair of small green eyes in the wall and stared back at them, wondering to whom they belonged. The creature slinked out of the crevice and towards her. That was when the woman noticed that it was her cat, Onyx. "Oh, Onyx! I thought the assassin had killed you, too!" The elf exclaimed as she scooped the cat into her arms. Onyx purred in response and shifted her collar, revealing a small set of silver lockpicks. Olive smiled and reached for the smallest one, stabbing it into the lock of her manacle. She jiggled it around a little, and the shackle opened with a loud clicking noise. The elf sensed an aura of magic around the door, and guessed that her captors had placed a spell of shocking grasp of burning hands upon it. She had hoped not to draw attention, but it couldn't be helped. Her hands moved in the air, creating arcane symbols and glyphs. Olive pointed at the door and six streaks of green magic shot from her fingers, blasting the door to pieces. She stepped out into the corridor, motioning for Onyx to follow. The assassin who had taken her was standing guard outside, dagger at the ready. The agile elven woman sidestepped his lunge and caught him by the hair, throwing him backward and snapping his neck. After dragging his body into her cell, she moved through the wall and into the Potter's Guild. She and Onyx fought their way through spiders, ogres and small hordes of kobolds successfully, Olive picking up a short sword and a pair of bracers along the way. As the pair neared the entrance, Olive gasped. Standing before the door was a man with a thick red beard and bushy eyebrows. Now Olive knew that she shouldn't have picked a fight with him. At his side were six men wearing the uniforms of the Kraken Society. All had the same tattoo on their forearm. The elf's eyes blazed with fury, and she hurled a fireball toward her opponents. The man dodged, but all of the Krakens were caught and thrown to the floor, unconscious. "Well...do you remember my name, little elf?" The man spoke to her with open malice in his voice. "Should I?" Olive queried warily. "I believe all should know the name of their murderer. I am Darius." He introduced himself as if they were old friends. "Well, Darius-what are you doing among these scum?" She indicated the felled assassins at his side. "That, I believe, is not of your concern at this moment in time. Of course, I'll rot in the Nine Hells before I am to be stopped by an elven woman. Now...I tire of this talk!" With that he spread his fingers and hurled a lightning bolt at Olive. She barely had time to erect her globe of invulnerability, but it did go up, his lightning ricocheting off and crashing into a nearby wall. In response, she hurled a crackling green sphere of energy. It stuck the man on the chest and his hand began to turn to stone. Darius concentrated on his hand and exerting extreme willpower, broke the spell. He gestured and small scarlet shards of magical power flew from him fingers. The woman moved quickly and blocked them with her bracers. Olive stood tall and closed her eyes, and a green mist arose from the floor around her. Her opponent gagged a little, but easily dispelled the cloud. The elven woman changed her tactics: she readied her sword and charged the man. Darius, in response, grabbed a dagger from a rack on the wall. She was purposely clumsy, and he cut her across the thigh. Then Darius bent over in pain, not realizing that she had hot shielded herself. He regained composure, realizing that he could get around that. A cone shaped blast of ice flew from him, but her globe of invulnerability deflected it. Curses, he thought, I forgot about that! Darius created a scarlet mist around Olive and she fell to her knees, gagging and coughing. Darius laughed softly. "Well, little woman, it seems you won't be the one to stop me this night." He closed in slowly with his dagger, to deliver the final blow by hand. As Darius neared Olive, she threw her hands towards the sky. A small storm of ice staggered the man as she lept to her feet. Now she blasted him with a cone of cold and he backed away, bleeding from where the ice had cut him. The elf took advantage of his failure to attack and launched green spheres at him. Her little spheres floated around him, sucking out his intellect. Darius fell to the floor, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Olive went to the exit, and cast a final spell. Her magic missiles blasted the roof and collapsed the building. She leapt out the door just in time to avoid being crushed. The elf collapsed to her knees in exhaustian, and felt a stange sensation against her thigh. It was Onyx. Olive stroked the cat and stood up. She staggered towards her apartment, never realizing she had defeated one of the Kraken Society's main Neverwinter agents. Seasons Dreams (Submitted by: Mershu) Time to start your Christmas Dreams. It's never to early to Spruce up the Realms. Happy child-like Drow Frolic the town. Even Lord Nasher has spirit Look! No frown. Earthly Rangers sharpen weapons with glee. In search of the most perfect Christmas Tree. Paladins and Mages Cast Silent Ice Storm. And the Charmed Mammoth choir sings Noel on their horns. Bags of holding hung by the fireplace with care Wands of Magic Missels shoot off, filling the air. Gather your friends for fun and good cheer. In no time Santa will soon be here. I'silelenond (The Hall of The Shining Star) (Submitted by: Lywnis) Pressing forward with urgency Ilustriel hurried down the dusk darkened path. Glancing about her she sought for signs of passage or the presence of others nearby. Presently she came across a spot in the trail where a stone had been freshly turned. A small sign, all but lost in the dimness. Missed perhaps by all save the most skilled woodsman it was enough to tell her that she had correctly divined the path taken by her quarry. Straining now, she returned to the trail, every sense was bent to the stalk. Here she saw a bent blade of grass, there a twig snapped as it lay upon the ground. About her she heard the forest murmer about the passage of another. Yet her prey eluded her... Presently she came to a widening of the way, pausing she realized that before her was a small glade. Scanning it quickly she suddenly faded back from the entrance into the darker viel of the trail. Ahead, within the glade itself, something glittered in the wan autumn moonlight. At first she thought it to be metal, but then discarded the notion for its brilliance was to great. 'A gem prehaps', she thought, 'Yet where would it come from?' For a moment her face was framed in the darkness along the edge of the glade. Then it was gone. Silently she crept along the edge of the trees. Elven and well schooled in the rougish arts she was but a shadow slipping across deeper shadows. Circling about the far side of the small clearing she at last came to a point where the distance to the sparkling gem was at it's least. Reaching into her pouch she withdrew a small lump of gum arabic. Murmmering a brief string of sylables she crushed the lump between her fingers and faded from view. About her the forest became but a shadowly grayish black backdrop lacking clairty and definition. Yet she cared not for she new that the one who had set this snare walked not in the visible word. Quickly he eyes searched the glade yet again. For a moment she spied nothing, but then her eyes settled upon a shade crouching low along the edge of the trees. Creeping closer she was at last able to discern it's features. Smiling, she disloved the spell and faded back into view. With a snap of brush she pushed her way out of the trees and made for the glittering object. Smiling satifaction that it was indeed a gem, she paused. Stooping to pick it up she sensed movement behind her. Standing she made as if to turn, yet holding still as two stong arms enfolded her. For a moment lips touched the skin of her neck. Then a voice whispered in her ear, 'Hunter has become hunted, Melamin. Thou art snared by my trap and I claim thee as my prisoner.' 'To thy sweet capture do I submitt myself for thy arms are a prison from which I long for no escape', she replied as she turned to face Lywnis. At her words a boyish grin broke over his face for he loved her deeply and her words made his heart sing with joy. Drawing her deeper into his tender embrace he sought to her tease her with a kiss upon the nose. Ilustriel was quicker, however, and for an instant her lips brushed his. Then she was gone. Wriggling free of his grasp she fled down the trail, cying gaily, "Come now thou art the hunter, catch thy prey ere it eludes thee." Grinning mightly Lywnis dashed off down the trail after his love. Thus did it go far into the night as Lywnis and Ilustriel gaily frolicked amoung the trees of the wood. Clear and light came their laughing voices as they celebrated their love for each other. As their game proceeded, each chase became shorter and each capture became sweeter. Passion rose within them and at the last, they collpased upon the soft turf of some deep forest glen. Then did each stare into the other's eyes. After the briefest of searches they they smiled for both knew the answer to the other's silent question. Holding each other closely, each tryed to the phrase words that strained at their lips. But at that moment their tanquility was shattered by the pounding of hooves. Diving apart each grabbed for their weapons only to watch in awe as into the glen burst a mightly Stag. Gray beneath the moon it streamed great plumes of breath from it's flared nostrils. As it fled past them it turned it's mighty head and regarded them for an instant. Then, flanks heaving it crashed into the wood upon the far side of the glen and was gone. Stunned, for a moment they listened as the sounds of it's passage faded. Then as if stung they lept to their feet. Both knew the grave protent brought by the Stag and so to knew that they must give chase. "Come love", cried Lywnis, "seems that we shall have yet another chase ere we find at last repose in each others arms." With that they swept into the wood. Deep into the forest were they led. Sometimes straight, sometimes in dizzying convulution they were nevertheless drawn inexorably southward. More than once did they suffer the bite of some unseen branch or thorn bush as they dashed headlong through the benighted maze of trees. Several times did they pause, fearing the trail lost, only to espy the Stag in the distance. Never did it seek to evade them. Always did it them and lead them forward. Never though did it give them chance to rest. Great seemed it's imaptience, as if it knew that their journey must be completed forthwith. For their part, they were hale and kept the pace on their own for their curiosity consumed them. Only once during that long run did it pause, stamping, it toed the earth as they stood back to back upon an ancient stone bridge against a horde of trolls. Upon their victory it fled yet again leaving them to abandon their enemies as carrion. Thus in the failing night did they come at last unto the southern most marches of the wood. Beyond lay only waste where no living thing had travelled. Here the effects of the River's sorcery went unfelt and autumn had come. About them flew the leaves of oaks and elms. Loud to their ears was the crunching as they trod them beneath their feet. Still they ran forward, but weary and worn to the limit of their endurance they at last began to flag. Each breath became a firey torment to their straining lungs. There hearts pounded and their heads swam. In a dream juxaposed upon a nightmare they staggered on until at last, as if both tripped by some unseen hand, they sprawled upon the leaf covered ground. Gasping they lay silent save for their labored breath. Great sorrow was in them for they had come so far only to fall short in the last leg of the race. For his part, Lywnis wept in frustration. Cut unto the quick, Ilustriel watched sorrowfully as her love's tears flowed from his face. As tiny gems they fell upon the golden leaves of the forest floor. Deep in hue those leaves were broad and sturdy. A long moment had her eyes lingered upon the forest floor before she saw them at for what they were. As a bird her heart soared within her chest for she knew them. 'Mallornea, Mallornea', she cried leaping to her feet. Through eyes suddely bleary with her own tears she gazed upon the sacred leaves. 'My love, weep not the tears of saddness but the tears of joy. Here are the trees of our people. Long thought lost they have called us to them.' Hearing her, Lywnis looked about and saw the truth in her words. They were within a small grove upon the very edge of the forest itself. About them grew many lesser ashes and elms, but at the grove's heart there grew two great Mallorn trees. Countless years seperated them from the seed and they had grown together. Entwined they rose stately above all others, until at last they streched out their fingers unto the very heavens. And in the heavens, as if cupped by the loving hands of the trees, a star shone bright and clear in the coming dawn. For a moment they both stood breathless at the sight. Into to them flooded the realization of their destiny. Without concious thought they found themselves in each others arms. Trembling lips brushed together as each tried to mumble words through the kisses they hungrily sought. After some moments, Lywnis sought to kneel before her, but she would allow it not. Joining him, they knelt together upon the ground, and clasped hands. Speaking first Lywnis said unto her thus, 'Ilustriel, my love. Thy light has filled my soul. From the day I first saw you I have loved you. My heart has given itself to you and you may not give it back. Here, in this sacred place do I humbly ask thee to take the balance of myself to be thyne own. Wed with me me love and I shall know true contentment in my life. Would'st thee have me to be thyne own?' Smiling with radiant beauty, Ilustriel replied, 'Lywnis, thou art truly my love. More than my heart have I given to thee for I feel our souls and I know them to be entwined like the Mallorns. I glady accept thy heart and shall keep it safe within my keeping forever. Yes, I shall wed with thee and our love shall live for all eternity.' Lost in time they knelt frozen upon the sacred Mallorn leaves as at last the full measure of their love flowed over them. Neither one could speak as they stared into the weeping eyes of their beloved. About them they could hear the sounds of the waking forest as the first fingers of dawn stretched over the land. Then as one they looked up at the lovingly entwined Mallorns above them and knew that this should be their home. After a heartbeat, Lywnis spoke, 'Beloved, if thee would have it, I shall build for thee a hall beneath these golden trees. Fair shall it be whenever thee dwells within it for thou art the fairest thing that yet lives upon this earth. Should you come to it, it shall be called I'silelenond, The Hall of The Shining Star, and all who enter shall know the joy of your light.' 'Yes my love', she cried, "for I to know that this place is to be our home. I shall come unto this place and we shall dwell here until at last we are called to Evermeet." NWN Christmas Carol (Submitted by: KF Hawkz) This is a little poem I composed for fellow adventurers! Its to be sung to the music of "Jingle Bells" It tells the story of an adventurer who gets into trouble during Christmas. EVERY ADVENTURER'S JINGLE BELLS by KF Hawkz Hacking through the realms, with a recently sharpened axe, Oh! Those dracs we kill, stabbing them in their backs! Chains on goblins ring, making ogres fight, Oh! What fun it is to sing a slaying song tonight! Jingle Bells! Jingle Bells! Jingle all the way! Oh! What fun it is to sit in taverns drunk all day! Jingle Bells! Jingle Bells! Jingle all the way! Oh! What fun it is to sit in taverns drunk all day! A day or two ago I thought I'd take a bribe, and soon broke out a fight, got hit in the side! Thought I'd rob a bank, misfortune seemed my lot, The dungeons really stank, because I'd gotten caught! (Refrain) Now my hair is white, been here since I was young, Spending Christmas here tonight, I'll spend it with this song! Still my spirits really gay, some ale I do need, think I'll brake out someday, and bang! I'll leave with speed! The Debt Of Blood (Submitted by: Zarra Yorn) Slowly the polished edge glided. Soft skin parted like water, leaving a scarlet spray in its wake. "Do you see how it is done?" Zarra asked in a soft voice. A small child adorned in the finest Drow robes nodded slowly. "Here, you try.." she said letting her words trail off as she handed the young female the straight razor. "Like this?" She asked pressing the razor into flesh and dragging. "Yesss, slowly...slowly...." Zarra's tone full of satisfaction. *********** "It was that grievous night that I speak of. Greetings, I am Donald of the Light Blade. A paladin in the imperial service of Lord Sharben of Waterdeep. I will tell all you young Knights and Paladins of the of my tale and the capriciously sadistic nature of these vile mutations of the surface elves....Drow. "He let his somber words trail off the added Drow with powerful disgust. Silently the student Warriors looked on, averting their eyes from his disturbing visage. Befuddled, they pondered what had happened to him on that fate filled night. Every last eye locked intently on him as he began his story in a gruff rattley voice. "It was a cold winter night, a blizzard had blown if form the west. The frost had teeth I tell you, and deeply did they bite!" He leaned forward to the edge of his stool. "My steed fell dead from the cold..." A sudden sadness filled his words. "...I could hardly see anything but torrents of snow. Blindly I stumbled praying to Helm. He answered me! Yes all praise to he who watches all!" The sudden escalation in volume caused a few Knights to flinch. "Before me was the most welcome sight I ever have seen. An opening in the earth, my saviors gift, or so I thought." His words were slow and weight carefully. Absently he withdrew a pipe and a pouch of smoking tobacco. Lighting the device he took a long thoughtful draw. His students waited impatiently, spellbound by his tale. "Where was I? Ah yes I remember, the cave. Well let me tell you, until that night I had no fear, but sitting alone, wet and freezing in shrouded darkness so impenetrable you would think a knife could cut out a slice." He swung his pipe for emphasis, angry smoke swirled then dissipated. "It was then that I had that feeling... fear." Suddenly his mood changed as a odd expression crossed his face. Fighting the urge to glance over his shoulder he continued. " Well I'm no coward but let me give you an idea of what it was like.... The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and it felt like long spindly legged spiders crawled over my flesh." Subconsciously he shifted and brushed arm. The unwelcome images of the night had come back suddenly in crystalline detail.... *********** How the paladin tried not to move or make a sound. The Drow with the black metal arm told him unspeakable things would happen if he twitched or cried out, and he did not doubt for an instant that she was dead serious. His eyes were open, staring with strained focus on some distant thing, his face a contorted mask of pain. He did not move nor scream. Donald was not bound by cord, only fear and dreadful promises held him there, bleeding, suffering, on the cold slab of spider shaped polished onyx. Sweat poured into his eyes as the steel dipped into him again. A strange sensation, not pain he though, more a disturbing feeling... like waking up with a spider pulsing up and down and covering your face. At first your eyes are unfocused and your skin recoils from the touch, then the true horror comes into focus, along with the dripping venomous fangs. Yes that's what it's like he though. "Now you try..." Came her malicious purring words. *********** The paper thin bladed passed effortlessly through his muscles and tendons. The child's unpracticed hand veered and steel grated against bone. Quickly she recovered and completed the smooth laceration. " The teachers feminine word were lost in the sudden pain. "Excellent, now observe this cut carefully" Zarra said taking the razor from the child. Her blurred face came into view, Donald shut his eyes. The taste of cold metal filled his mouth. Then came the coppery taste of blood. Slowly and purposefully Zarra pushed the blade between a small gap in his front two teeth. Sliding the blade slowly into his gums then violently shoving it upwards and twisting. The loud sound of his teeth shattering and the wet hiss of his gums being slashed caused him to snap. "No more!!!!! No More!!!! I'LL DO ANYTHING!!!" He blubbered spitting blood all over himself and the two females. Grabbing his bleeding mouth he curled into a fetal position and convulsed. Zarra's adimantite replacement limb slammed into his face, grabbing it in her bladed fingertips. Bloodlust overwhelmed her as she forced him onto his back pinning him by his face. Her had move to his throat and took chunks of meat with it. "Let me brush your teeth for you!" She hissed through clenched teeth. With her other hand she leaned over with all her weight and rammed the blade lengthwise across his gums. In a bloody screaming fury she sawed back and forth across his mouth. The little Drow girl's eyes lit up like red flares. Zarra did not stop to her delight.... *********** Gasps filled the room as he spoke. The Paladins around him said silent prayers to their gods. "So you defeated the entire Drow war band by yourself and saved thekingdom?!" A young over zealous knight blurted out in awe. "Aye!" His voice strong and sure. "With this!" he proclaimed hefting a massive two handed sword. A strange glint lingered in his eye. "Well it be getting late and ye lads need your rest." He said planting the sword tip into the earth. The young men nodded and gathered there belongings. "You, hold up a minute." He said, eyes flickering. "Aye, Sir Donald. Is something wrong?" The young man asked. "No, never mind, go catch up with the rest of the lads." He said heartily. "Aye, Milord" The young paladin replied and turned his back. A spray of viscous tissue and fragmented skull were all that remained of his head as Sir Donald's bladed careened through his helm. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!" Donald bellowed charging the other paladins. *********** Two paladins fell severed in twain by his sudden unsuspected rush. Confused, and bewilder they drew there blades. Swords meet with shattering force, knocking a young paladin to the ground. His comrade jumped in Donald's path and chopped deeply into his shoulder. The wound did not even slow Donald him as he bashed at the young paladins shied sending him sprawling. "RAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!" The two handed sword made a massive circle and came crashing into the off balanced paladins spine paralyzing him. At that moment three longswords impaled Donald through the stomach. Like a possessed demon he fought on, tearing the blades from his abdomen. "RAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" The massive sword came slamming through a parry and into the face of a paladin. One of the armored figures jumped on Donald trying to take him to the ground. His efforts were useless as he was shook off like a rag doll. A deft strike opened Donald's throat and another pierced his heart. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!" He roared, blood spraying freely. Transfixing himself further on the impaling blade he brought the heavy sword into another's skull then fell to his knees. Seemingly hundreds of vengeful bladed buried into him. Time passed and the blades still swung at the pulpish figure that was once Sir Donald. Arms tiered and the fury passed. Breathing heavily, a paladin dropped to his knees and issued a command. "bury him" he said motioning with an upwards nod. *********** Donald awoke, his gums a tender clutter of pain. He was chained to the wall and pain kept him from moving. In the decadent moments of torture something changed in him. Something he did not know had grown like cancer, spreading until is was everything he knew. The chamber door opened and two female Drow walked graceful inside. Zarra turned and looked at him with narrow glowing eyes. "Now what did you mean by anything?......" The End. Malla Yathrin Zarra Yorn Faen Tlabbar Malla Yathrin d'lil Arach-Tinilith Quarthen a lil Ultrin Ilharess Shyntlara Valsharen Dalharil d'lil Valsharess Nedylene Jabbress d'Slakromstraken Wevrelltearcell Ust Dalharil d'Faen Tlabbar Ust Qu'ellar d'Rilauven Look To Your Heart -- Part 3 (Submitted by: HG Tarl) Dusk was settling on Longsaddle as Tarl traversed the narrow forest path leading away from Sharna Tyr's cottage. The trail was lined with enormous Neverwinter Oaks. The stately tree's limbs were all but laid bare, except for a few tenacious, dusty-brown leaves that clung to their branch's in spite of the chill Uktar wind that swept down from the Northern Ice fields. Silhouetted against the darkening sky, their skeletal limbs seemed to embrace the stars, as Tarl shivered, picking his way through the dense forest trail beneath them. Tightening the well-worn clasp of his cloak -- a silver pin displaying a crescent moon and harp -- to close out the piercing cold, the young Harper ambled slowly through the darkening forest, his mind a swirling whirlpool of confused thoughts and emotions. "Sharna Tyr," he whispered lovingly, recalling vividly the fragrance of her perfume, the rosy-blush of her tender, smiling, face and the sweetness of her lips. "If ye but knew how I have longed fer such a kiss." Tarl smiled as he relived the unexpected events of the day in his mind. The awkward, and glorious moment when he found himself wrapped in the fervor of Sharna's passionate embrace. ~~~~~ "It's not like Sharna to be this late," Flaire had said in a voice filled with concern as the Harpers sat beside the warm, crackling hearth of the Gilded Horseshoe Inn. "Least, not without leave'n us a missive." "Aye," Quill echoed, a troubled frown on his smooth, youthful face. "She's well over an hour late?" "Well Harpers," Tarl declared, slamming his oft-empty mug down on the heavy oak table and gathering up his weapons, "let's us be off an see what delay's her!" Moving swiftly through the deepening shadows of the forest, the Harpers soon arrived at Shar's cottage. Their concern grew as they peered through the darkened, ornate silver trimmed windows. "Shar!" Flaire called out, rapping lightly on the magically warded door. "Step aside M'lady," Tarl said, gently pushing Flaire aside before raising his boot and kicking in the door. They breathed a collective sigh of relief when they found Sharna lying safely in her bed, but deep in the throws of a disturbing dream. The sheer, clinging sleeping gown she wore was drenched with perspiration and accentuated her slender, yet curvaceous frame. Sitting down beside her on the Elven-crafted, four-poster bed, Tarl gently placed his hands upon her shoulders in an attempt to break the trance of her dream. Suddenly, Shar sat upright, releasing the pillow she held and hugged the startled Harper in its stead. "Mmmmmuuff M'Lady!", Tarl had managed to stutter as he found himself locked in Shar's embrace, her soft, moist lips pressed firmly on his, in an impassioned, yet tender kiss. ~~~~~ SPLASH! Tarl's reverie abruptly ended when he unconsciously stepped off the path and sank knee-deep in the icy waters of the forest stream. "HeHe," he laughed, grateful that no one was present to see him as rivulets of ice-cold water swirled around his quickly numbing legs. "Serves me right fer day-dream'n," he added as he sloughed out of the icy brook. Glancing around, Tarl realized he had wandered far off the path that led back to Longsaddle. Recognizing that the Neverwinter wood was not the best of places to be alone during the day, much less on a cold and blustery night, Tarl quickly retraced his steps and headed for the warm and hospitable confines of Harper Hall. Continued in Part 4..... Elven Choir (Submitted by: Xylina) A song for a party of good adventurers, it helps take their minds off the stress of shopping for gifts. This repetitive ditty is destined to become a holiday classic. (performed by an elven choir to the tune of "Winter Wonderland") Out we go, to find a present, for Lord Nasher, he deserves it... We'll never rest, til we get him the best, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. Evil parties, won't overtake us, for great powers, our gods did grant us... We're not afraid, our plans have been laid, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. Vilnask, it is popular, with the newbies, who want a dagger... they sing us a song, so we drag em along, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. An emerald broach we have heard the tale of, but hard to find it most certainly is... We tell that woman we are gonna find it, even though there's no known maps of the Lost Hills... It's the holidays, let's take a boat ride, get that ticket, for the good side... Giants throw boulders, they whiz past our shoulders, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. Later on, we'll perspire, when the mages, throw balls of fire... They think we're off guard, but globe-ed we are, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. Under Longsaddle, there is a jewel, the Bronze dragon, we well rescue... He'll help us along, and we won't go wrong, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. While in Nightsedge we decide to rest up, so we look for places to lie down... We give in and pay the keeper's high price, even though the Inn is all burned out... In the Woods, there's lots of magic, shaking trees, it is our tactic... but for gifts that are best, we'll find a dracolich nest, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. At Port Llast, there is a ghost ship, not to mention, the haunted port's crypts... We had other gifts in mind, we left the button behind, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. Let's kill beholders, and take their items, but the golems, say we're annoying them... Sewer entrance we bash, it's a gate crash, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. In Floodbest we find alot of owl bears, the well it is infested with those things... Let's climb up and travel somewhere else now, cause what we need are several plus two rings... We need more gifts, but watch the Zhentil, if you proceed, they'll try to stop you... With this foresight, overtake them we might, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. Villagers talk, pay attention, the lifegiver, has gone a missin... It's festival day, find the pieces we may, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. To Red Larch, we ought to go there, but we're tired, and well we won't fare... That gift can wait, let's not test fate, adventuring here in Neverwinter land. In the Outpost we did skin a yeti, and took out his partners icey hounds... Our dance did not amuse the ol' beholders, so at last we stagger back to town... Mataga's Inn, we pay the keeper, our bags are full, of gifts for Nasher... His palace awaits, so let's clean our plates, adventuring here in Neverwinter land Saving Money (Submitted by: YKSS) Is your time in neverwinter costing you big $$$? Well here's a little tip for you. Next time you get the urge to enter the realms go to your local bookstore or library and get a Forgotten Realms book. They only cost five or six dollars and take more than two hours to read, so they are less expensive then neverwinter nights. It can help you with your rollplaying too. I haven't as yet found one set in neverwinter, though part of Streams of Silver, by R.A. Salvatore is set in Luskan (you can see neverwinter and port llast on the map in the front of the book). If you want to take all of a particular coin from your booty, just keep pressing the 9 key and the amount will automatically appear on your screen. Okay, everyone knows that if they want to get an enchanted weapon, they go to the minotaur in Southwall. However, he isn't always there and there are usually lots of people who also want weapons there, with only one axe to go around. If you find yourself part of a large group look for a an axe+1, get together and go to Windycliffs. Shortly after you enter, you will discover a secret door. Go south through the secret door, make a left (East) and go till you run into a wall. Turn left (north) and go straight through the door in front of you, ignoring the side passage. (In this area you might find a harpy. Be careful, it can charm you, which means instant death. Sleep it as soon as possible) keep following the passage around until you come to another door. Behind this lies 4 minos with axes and 2 poison snakes (sleep these fast!). Besides the axes, you can often pick up scrolls an other magic goodies as well! P.S. If anyone finds a forgotten realms book about neverwinter please e-mail me. Thanx :) The Great War - Evil Turns On Itself (Submitted by: ITB Skorp) After the fall of the Shadow Alliance and the Soldiers of Light, only one guild of good alignment stood. The Knights of the Eternal Flame. The Night Masks and House ITB, the two remaining forces of Evil, both eyed up the KEF keep. ITB Skorp, ITB Myst, Silk Sable and Metron entered a series of very short lived negotiations that were a very weak attempt at trying to unite to overthrow the KEFs. Simply stated, both guilds wanted the KEFs, and the prize of all of Neverwinter, for themselves. Skorp and Myst quickly returned to the ITB compound and rallied the horde. The plan was to charge the Masks and take them by surprise, knocking them back , before charging on to the KEF keep. The ITB horde began their march. Suddenly, Mask assassins appeared all around them, a group led by Metron ambushing the lead ITB warparty. The malevolent god known as "Punt the Merciless" took the entire ITB party and whisked them away to an unknown dimension, leaving the entire Mask assassin team unscathed. At first, things looked bad for the ambushed ITB's. Two war parties fell quickly, and no assassin teams had been destroyed. Then, the ITB's rallied, recovering from the surprise that the swift Masks had taken them with. Five war parties in a row destroyed assassin team after team, and only the final ITB mop up detail was surprised and fell to the Masks final assault, led by Silk Sable herself. As the triumphant ITB horde left the battle field, the bloodlust was running high, and the energy could be seen in the crazed eyes of each and every ITB, from warlord to footsoldier. The time of truth was near. Twenty guilds had started in this war. eight evil, eight good and four neutrals. The Neuts had fallen, as had all but the mightiest force of Evil, House ITB, and the strongest defenders of Good, KEF. The final conflict was at hand, the hour of truth was near. (ITB 7 - Masks 3) ITB Skorp To Arms Elves of Neverwinter (Submitted by: Ilustriel) Quel re ar' Mae Govannen Mellonea * The Grey Comapny invites all elves to join in the excitement and adventure of elven roleplay each wednesday at 9:00 pm CST. The Company meets in the NW Gardens and sallies forth no later than 9:15 pm. Most hunts are led by the Etriel Ilustriel Morningstar, but check the GC public board that eve for her replacement should she be unavailable. Should thee come late (g-alas the sands of time mean little to us immortals) ESP the party leader and they shall make arrangements for you to join them. Each eves adventures shall be decided when the party composition is known. Should thee be Cousin but newly arrived in the realms, come early and you shall be aided in anyway we can. So come. Join your voices with ours in merriment, wield thy sword and bow with us in battle, and revel in the companionship of your fellow elves. Tenna' san', aa' menle nauva calen ar' i'hwesta oio ie' ale'quenle ** Ilustriel Morningstar Etriel -*- The Gray Company * Good day and well met friends. ** Until then, may your paths be green and the wind ever at your back. <><><><><> <><><><><> Gimme a Scoop! Enter the weekly News of the Realm contest by submitting text for publishing. If your Announcement, Article, Helpful Hint, NW Abby Question, Poem, Fiction, or Tidbit wins, you'll have won your choice of 4 Pearls or Access to the GOH (Guild of Heroes) ! 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