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NEVERWINTER NEWS
Issue # 122
Week Ending 2-25-96
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FRONT PAGE
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Congratulations to Starrbolt for winning last week's News of the Realm
contest with
"The Mortal Coil - Part 1".

Starrbolt has earned the choice of 4 Pearls or Access to the GOH (Guild of
Heroes).
Keep up the good work!  ;D

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Ice Storm Booth winner!! - 2/20 Windycliffs

The winner of this event was Kraze Smurf with a grand total of 40 hps in two
casts!!
He is the winner of 4 pearls and 1 free hour.  Congrats!!

NW Thorn

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Location Hunt Winner - 2/20  12am

Tonights winner was Maidensun who found me at the Counting House.. 
13,13 Warehouses.

She wins 4 pearls and 1 hr online time..

Hobbes

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February Guild of Heroes Booth #1 Winners - 2/21/96.

"Ruby Cakes from some of the northern Barbarian tribes were brought to
Neverwinter
for sampling.  These cakes have a delightful taste, but carry a potent a
disease.
The cakes are used by some Barbarian tribes to see who is strong enough to
become
a war party leader. The first bite would cause the person consuming the cake
to save versus poison or die; then after eating the whole cake, to save
versus slay living from
the disease!

Thus, several GoHers were called upon to taste test these delicacies.  The
person
who survived the eating of the cake and took the least damage from the
disease
would win.

And that was Mech Judas, who saved versus the poison and slay, and took only
5 damage! 

Judas shall gain 6 pearls."

NW Strahd

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A Night O' Bandages in the Great Hall Tavern

This night was a gaming night in the Tavern.  Many a game was played by
Tavern
goers.  First, we played Spin the Bottle.  Everyone had their turn spinning
the bottle
on a board which was numbered thru a hundred and then I got my turn.
Spinning
the bottle with a flick of my wrist, it spun and spun and spun, finally
flying off the
table and landing on Earl Graye's nose ;x  As blood began to drip down from
the injury
I walked over and kissed him gently on the nose, "I am so sorry, are you
alright?"
ITB Brutal slapped a bandage on it and Earl steadied himself with some tea.
Dhaunae and Tarma, after drying off from the hot tub (I still think its the
best one in
Neverwinter ;P) began to play a game of shackle-twister with the added
variable of
tickle feathers and wet towel markswomanship. Meanwhile, Brutal was
blindfolded
and wandered about playing "stick the bandage on the patron."  Hitting
Abzzcesse
in the eye, Rabenau in the mouth and myself, just above my dark green
bodice...he
finally tripped and fell into the hot tub hitting himself in the head with a
bandage.

Congratulations to Earl Graye for winning 5 pearls this month!  And to Best
Aim for winning for "best" roleplayer of the week.

The Great Hall Tavern is open every Wed and Fri night from 11pm-1am Eastern
Time
in the Great Hall of Neverwinter located on the AD&D Online Menu.  Hope to
see you there! :D

NWT Cyane
Neverwinter Tavernkeep

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Location Hunt Winner - 2/24

Location was at 13,5 in Berun.

The winner was Erezendes who garners the prize of 4 pearls and a free hour.

-Ulfy

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NEVERWINTER CALENDAR
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Keep an eye peeled for those Mini-Booths because they will appear when you
least expect in different areas of the Realms!

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:

Join the following staff members for a tour of the Realm:

February 25th Sunday  8:00 PM EST - with NW Triel.
February 27th Tuesday  11:00 PM EST - with NW Ember.
February 29nd Thursday  9:00 PM EST - with NW Frost.

Those interested in any of these tours should keep an eye out for the banner
telling where to meet!  ;D

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The Raven
(Submitted by: Riklaun)

Chapter 9


        The barrister leaves the room at the Inn where he has been meeting
with Nalynn. He inspects the documents she has signed and he has witnessed,
noting the official seal of the realm is duly stamped on each.  He tucks them
into his satchel and quickly heads off to his family to celebrate Christmas
Day...the papers will be filed with the official rulers of Neverwinter in the
morning.

        Nalynn packs her meager belongings and dons her cape.  The Falcon
hops onto her arm from his perch and they prepare to leave.  The annulment
papers have been signed, yet she is still undecided what she will do when she
meets SK Torm this evening. She sighs deeply "I must decide - and soon, for I
will be meeting him shortly."  She closes the door behind her and heads down
the stairs.

        SK Torm enters the Southwall Arena.  After some merrymaking, he notes
Nalynn's entrance to the Realms. Filled with anticipation, he patiently waits
for his beloved to come. A little while later, Torm learns Nalynn has
consulted the barrister.  She states that the marriage to Braldt2 has been
annulled and that she would be very happy to marry him! Bursting with
happiness, Torm finds that Solack has just taken Nalynn away!  He wonders
about the cause... "Tis must be the crack about him, his girlfriend, and my
enlarge spell...hmm... or he's just jealous!" Torm races off to find her,
although momentarily slowed by attacks from a totally unavoidable beast.

        When Torm found her, he arrived just in time to hear Elexis pipe up-
"Anyone want to go to sewers?" Jumping at the opportunity, they head to the
sewers. Torm and Nalynn get jumped several times by beholders, golems, etc.
Finally, after getting quite disgusted at seeing the sewer gate, they retire
to the Neverwinter Gardens. It is decided that it shall be there that they
shall be joined in holy matrimony, it shall be at 12:00 AM, Jan 1st, and
Solack and CyberOculs shall officiate. A little later, Torm leaves. However,
the next morning, he finds Riklaun's challenge posted in the Keep.
Remembering the relative ease that he, a Ranger/mu gated a certain unnamed
Clam, he raises his voice to the heavens, saying, "Come, Riklaun, for nothing
shall protect ye from my fury!"

        Riklaun stood at the forge admiring his new creation.  He had
successfully built a new magic dagger for the spirit's to reside in.  His
Body would not be able to house the spirits any longer. They had kept him
alive this long.  He placed the Dagger on the table.  He took a step back
from it and unbelted his swords.  He drop ped the weapons on the floor and
undid his armor as well. He removed his tunic and breeches as well. Standing
naked before the dagger he picked it up.  The hilt shone in the dark light.

        Carefully, he drew the dagger across his left palm, drawing blood.
Lightning flashed outside illuminating the room.  What a site was beheld.
Riklaun held the dagger up high.  Riklaun began to glow with an erie light.
The blood dripped onto the floor.  Blue energy arced through the room.  The
curtains that were drawn across the window burst into flame.  Rik's blood
stained plate mail glowed hot.  Energy arced from his bleeding palm into the
dagger's hilt.  Riklaun screamed in pain.  Lightning flashed again outside,
seeming to want inside at the elf.  Undead peered through the window of the
cabin atop Berun's Hill.

        Riklaun dropped to his knees as the energy ceased.  The dagger glowed
brightly with new found magic.  "We are hungry" it said  into Riklaun's mind.
"Feed us."  Riklaun dressed and proceeded out the door into the chill night
air.  The evil glint in his eyes betrayed his intentions.

        Belareth sniffed the wind, there was evil in the air. He couldn't see
or smell it but be knew it was there. Then he heard a familiar whisper,
Riklaun. The fire blazed in his eyes.  Riklaun asks "are you looking for me?"

        "Since my birth", Belareth cried. I am waiting for you in the hills
if you are man enough.   Riklaun cackled and said 'yea',  as he stepped out
from behind a tree.  They both drew their weapons. In his haste Belareth cast
a hold spell on Riklaun only to find that it was only his image. Then he felt
like he was falling down, and had to struggle to keep his balance. Belareth's
limbs locked and he couldn't move. 'Will anyone rid the world of this fiend?'
were his last thoughts.

        It was a nice winter day and SK Zarn was leading a young dwarf by the
name of GroggyJr through the passageways to the Vilnask dracs. They had just
fought a bunch of trees and orcs when Riklaun gave Zarn a little visit in his
mind. Rik told him to go to the Lost Hills so Zarn abandoned GroggyJr and
headed towards the hills. Zarn told him he was ready to make him see death
but Riklaun just laughed.

        SK Zarn got to Crossergate and Riklaun was waiting for him in the
inn. Zarn told him to run off to his little playground and he would be there
soon. Zarn made to the hills rather quickly.  Zarn got to the door and could
hear Riklaun's little chants and yells he made so he cast a few spells to
protect himself.  Zarn entered to find himself surrounded by dogs. Zarn had
one FB and took half of them out but the other half was still close behind
racing towards him. That is when a man named Satansfiend entered the battle.
Zarn's heart was racing as the dogs got closer and Satansfiend slowly made
his way towards me. All of a sudden Riklaun was in the battle closing in on
Satansfiend. Zarn watched as Riklaun slaughtered Satansfiend but yet he left
the ranger be.  After destroying the dogs he turned to him and said, "You are
next!"

        Riklaun told Zarn to rest up at the inn then come back because he
wanted a fair fight. Zarn ran to the inn and healed himself and memorized
some spells and ran back. Rik was waiting by the door for him and said,
"Shall we start?" SK Zarn managed to evade the dogs this time and get into a
little corner where Riklaun casted tons of spells at him.  SK Zarn thought he
was going to die when a shard of light whipped through the room and swept him
away. SK Zarn found himself hanging in a tree outside the hills. Zarn cast
invisibility and went to the Crossergate inn.  Zarn was mad that he couldn't
kill Riklaun but was also happy that he was alive.  "I will kill Riklaun if
is by myself or not." Zarn said aloud.

        Golfdsl tacked up a note in the Seekers hall for Sk Torm.  He felt it
necessary to take it upon himself to rid them of the threat called Riklaun.
He read over the note before leaving.

        "Forgive me SK Torm, for I know that you wish to end the threat to
your happiness with Nalynn by your own hand.  Yours is the confidence of
youth however and I cannot bear the thought of your future with Nalynn stolen
by Riklaun's foul dagger and Nalynn's weeping over yet another loved one.
Riklaun is cunning and fell and while you can defeat him fate and chance may
decree otherwise should you meet."

        With this in mind, Golfdsl ventured in secret to the Lost Hills
hoping to do away with Riklaun.  His search ended at a decrepit cluster of
ruins near the western border of the lost hills.  Every shred of common sense
he had told him to turn away for the sound of rustling and scraping
punctuated by an occasional deep rumble emanated from the vast darkened
interior.  However, Riklaun's evil presence beckoned Golfdsl, causing the
hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.  After a short pause to cast
every protection spell he knew, Golfdsl took a deep breath and entered.
Riklaun was waiting for him inside a vast chamber.  A glimmer of moonlight
provided just enough illumination for Golfdsl to see the insane twisted
hatred on Rik's face as he rushed to attack him.

        "Fool", Riklaun sneered "You have disturbed the creatures of this
place and now I shall have to vie with them for your soul!"  As he spoke
Golfdsl could see the twisted forms of giant scorpions issuing from the
rubble and a huge, bloated bulk slowly moving up a large passageway.  This
distraction proved to be his undoing, for with inhuman speed Riklaun had
closed the gap between them and Golfdsl was suddenly surrounded by choking,
noxious fumes.  As he tried to back into clearer air, Golfdsl felt the
familiar tingle of a fumble spell coursing through his body.  Many times
before Golfdsl has shrugged off the full effect of this spell, but his
concentration was broken by a fit of coughing and to his horror, he felt the
tingling spread and deepen to a dreadful numbness.   Golfdsl was helpless!
He could only watch as Rik slowly drew his cursed dagger and smiled in
anticipation of stealing his soul.  Riklaun could have slain him then but he
paused, closed his eyes, and shuddered as if reliving some painful memory.
In that instant, Golfdsl felt himself grabbed and flung with monstrous force,
sparks exploded in his mind and then he spiraled into blackness.

        Golfdsl was awoken by a shaft of sunlight beaming on his face.  His
body was torn, bleeding, and wedged between two jagged spikes of rock far
from the chamber floor.  There was no sign of Riklaun, the scorpions, or the
monstrous horror that had unwittingly been his savior.  With his last
strength Golfdsl managed to dig a precious scroll out of his pack and mumble
the prayer to cure critical wounds scribed thereupon.  A measure of strength
returned to Golfdsl and he cast an invisibility spell upon himself.

        After healing at Crossergate, Golfdsl made a small detour on his way
back to the Lost Hills.  By a familiar spring fed pool in a stand of pines he
found the nondescript little herb he was looking for.  Gathering several
small leaves Golfdsl crushed them between his fingers and was rewarded by an
invigorating wholesome scent.  Smiling, he rubbed some of the gummy, sweet
smelling residue beneath his nose.  This would give him some measure of
protection against Riklaun's customary, noxious opening attack.

        As Golfdsl crept up upon the ruins where they had so disastrously met
before, he once again sensed Riklaun's evil presence.  Once again Golfdsl
cast his spells of protection and ventured inside for their fateful meeting.
Rik was sitting on a natural rock seat to one side of the chamber looking
sad, old, and tired.  Golfdsl had not gotten very close before he looked up
at him.  A flicker of surprise crossed his face and then the evil twisted
grin returned.  "I thought the worm had stolen you!" Riklaun screamed "for
all eternity, you will wish he had!"

        With that he leaped up and closed the gap between us.  In an instant,
Golfdsl was once again surrounded by noxious fumes.  This time however, the
wholesome smell of the herb counteracted some of their effect and he was able
to move away with his wits about him.  Riklaun cast another spell which
Golfdsl easily shrugged off and he replied with a fumble spell.  To his
surprise and joy, Golfdsl saw his limbs stiffen and then hang limply.
Riklaun had fallen prey to the same spell he had so recently used on him!

        Golfdsl moved closer and began the prayers necessary to slay him
mercifully and quickly when something gave him pause.  Under the effects of
the spell, the evil had left his face and he once again looked tired, and
sad.  The thought came to Golfdsl unbidden that perhaps he had been ensnared
by evil powers greater than himself for he had heard tales that Riklaun was
once a good friend and trustworthy ally.  Perhaps he is a fool, for Golfdsl
faltered and the words of the prayer slipped from his mind.  Confused,
Golfdsl left him then.  "I must investigate this further before I so hastily
take a life." he thought to himself.

Chapter 10


        SK Torm and Nalynn ventured to Crossergate.  They rounded a corner,
having fought valiantly to destroy many horrible beasts in that land.
Suddenly, Torm was gone -  vanished without so much as a sound...and a
familiar, cruel voice whispered in Nalynn's ear.

        "Ahhh, I have you now, fair lady. Though your appearance is much
altered I know it is still thee.  I will kill you as I did once before." it
said.  A chill went thru her, as sharp and icy as the cold tendrils and
fingers of the winter winds.  Nalynn looked round, and there was the vile Elf
Riklaun. He grinned maliciously and drew his dagger!  But before he could
attack, he was beset by terrible monsters, the like of which Nalynn had not
previously encountered in her travels through Neverwinter. She ran to hide
behind rocks to watch the ensuing battle.  The screams of monsters
intermingled with obscene curses emanating from the lips of this most hateful
and murderous Elf. For awhile, it appeared the beasts were destined to win
the battle, until Riklaun uttered a mysterious spell - the likes of which
were unfamiliar to Nalynn's ears. His dagger blazed with the light of a
thousand suns and sparks flew as he felled beast after beast.

        Realizing she could never endure a power such as his, Nalynn fled
from the battlefield before the fight was finished.  She continue to hide,
for he has made it clear he intends to do her harm.  "Beware all who tread in
Neverwinter - he seems to be everywhere and his intentions are anything but
noble." she whispers.

        Riklaun turnes fron the fallen Dracs and find Nalynn has vanished.
As he turnes to leave, SK Torm enters the room.  "Prepare to do battle
Riklaun.  You have done enough killing in this life time..."  Torm says.
Riklaun's eyes gleam with a hatred.  "You will die, foolish human."  was
Riklaun's only words.

        He began casting a spell of fumble.  The spell hit Torm and his legs
gave way under his feet.  Torm stood there helpless.  Riklaun cast another
spell on Torm.  It failed.  Riklaun unleashed spell after spell at Torm, each
one failing miserably.  Riklaun then pulled out a scroll from his pack.

        "This should work." He said.  The spell hit Torm and he stood
motionless, caught by the hold spell.  As Torm looked on, Riklaun pulled the
dagger from it's sheath.  "I shall kill you now, prepare to die."  He said.
Just then, wild boars came around the corner.  They saw Torm and Riklaun and
charged.  Riklaun saw them and threw a fireball in their direction.   The
fireball exploded killing several,  but three remained.  They limped towards
Torm.   "No! He is mine!" Riklaun said.  He rushed in and cast several magic
missles killing them all.

        Riklaun turned towards Torm.  "Now, where were we?"  Riklaun smiled
at Torm.  Just then, Torm fell to the ground and cast a spell at Riklaun.
Riklaun slowed.  "So, playing dead are we?" Riklaun said.  "Let us make you
truely dead, so you do not have to play it!"  Rik cast another spell at Torm.
The spell hit and did not faze Torm.  Torm cast another spell to Riklaun.
Rik shrugged off it's affects.  Riklaun cast more spells at Torm.  SK Torm
evaded every one.

        Riklaun stopped and looked at SK Torm.  Torm was fumbling with a
scroll from his pack.  Riklaun cast a fireball.  Torm looked up from the
parchment and saw the ball flying towards him.   He dove.  The fireball
exploded in the small room and engulfed it.  Riklaun stood protected by pela
tanya tampa aiguldur.  The fire took all the air from the room and caused a
resounding boom.     When the Fireball died down, Rik looked around.  He did
not see SK Torm anywhere.  Tracks in the soot left from the fireball led out
of the room.  Riklaun laughed.  "You will be mine coward.  I will have your
soul."

        Riklaun sat on the branch of a great oak tree.  He causally muched on
a fruit to replentish his energy.  He heard a sound from down the trail.
Silently, he watched.  LERShdobne, AKA Rand Shadowbane,  walked down the
path.  He made so much noise that Riklaun wondered why no monsters had
attacked him.  He watched as Rand made his way down the trail.

        Riklaun jumped from the tree and landed lightly on the ground despite
the heavy plate-mail he was wearing.   Rand saw this and brought up his
defenses.  Riklaun stood, imposing in the armor.  "Time to die, Rand."  he
said.  Riklaun cast minor globe about him and advanced.

        Riklaun swung his blade at Rand.  Rand blocked the incoming blade
with his shield and took a swipe with his own sword.  Riklaun easilly blocked
the swing with his other sword.  Riklaun pressed in, blades swinging wildly.
Rand countered every swing, only to be forced back.  The two elves fought
with a passion only mortal enimies have.  Riklaun did a manuver with his
blades that Wild Wil had done to him.  It caught Rand off guard and struck
home.

        Rand Shadowbane backpeddled and feverishly cast a spell.  "N'tess
uuvanimo!"  he yelled.  Riklaun stopped in his tracks, frozen.  Rand smiled.
"So, the mighty Riklaun has fallen to my magics. I have waited long for this.
This will be a day long remembered.  It has seen the end of EB and will now
see the end of Riklaun." he taunted.  Rand walked up to Riklaun and smiled.
He circled Riklaun as he talked.

        "I know that the LER would triumph over the Elven Brotherhood.  We
may have merged with the Grey Company, but my hatred of you  still lingers."
he said.  Rand walked around Riklaun admiring his fate.  "Maybe I should kill
you with your own dagger, for you deserve no mercy.  I will bring your
lifeless corpse back to the guild hall for all to see.  The Elven Brotherhood
is finished.  Beware the second coming of the Elves!"

        "Yes, Beware." Riklaun said.  Rand's eyes widened.  Riklaun
backhanded Rand and he fell to the ground.  "Your hold does not last long
eh?"  Riklaun said.  Rand scrambled backwards to get back on his feet.
"Nadorhunan.  Lle i'narr glinuva nuin i'Anor."  Rik said mockingly.

        Rand got to his feet only to be slammed by a lightning bolt in the
chest, knocking him back against a tree.  Rand fell back to the ground.  He
looked up and saw Riklaun smiling.  He attempted to get up but heard the
familiar spell of magic missle.  Pain racked his body as the electricity
flowed through him again.  Riklaun looked down on Rand and said "Now, you
will die."

        Another lightning bolt ripped through Rand's body.  Rand Shadowbane
looked up at Riklaun and pleaded for mercy.  Riklaun just laughed.  "Lasta
Lailaithamin!"  Riklaun turned to walk away.  Rand seeing this gathered his
last bit of strenght and cast a fireball into Riklaun's back.  The ball
exploded searing the air around Riklaun.  His globe still functioned, Rand
noticed.

        "So, still got a bit of fight in you?"  Riklaun said.  "Gurth goth
lye." Riklaun said as he becan casting another spell.  The spell hit Rand and
he felt his limbs go weak. He dropped back down to the ground and twitched
uncontrollably.  Riklaun pulled out his dagger.  He contimplated ending
Rand's life right there, but had a twinge of guilt.  He left Rand lying on
the ground battered and broken...

        SK Torm calls out from Berun's Hill.  "Riklaun! Come, meet me. We
have the final challenge..."  Within a short time, Riklaun arrives. They
stand there, facing one another.  Torm looks at his ebon dagger...  there is
something..   sinister about it.  But no sooner does he realize this than
Riklaun give him a vicious swipe across the cheek with it.

        "Come, Torm, let's not dally all day! Let me kill you and be done
with it!" Torm had been weakened from the past battles, true, but not as much
as he would let this heresy slide. He runs to the armory, where he ambushes
Riklaun along with griffons and salamanders. All 3 battles that they fight,
Riklaun again and again falls to Torm's magicks, being made clumsy or held.
As Riklaun is helpless, Torm stands by with glee and watches the monsters
dispatch him. But, every time Riklaun goes down, he sees something in his
eyes... the third time he goes down, Riklaun has been truly beaten. He lies
on the ground, bleeding, with but a few words escaping his broken lips...

        "The dag...ge...r... des..tro.y... it..."

        With horror, Torm realizes what has happened. Riklaun has been
controlled by the drow dagger of infinite slaying!  Without delay, Torm calls
upon Drago XaR's hidden stockpile... a chest comes out of thin air, and he
selects a shimmering mace and a scroll. Taking out the scroll, he carefully
reads the arcane runes while Riklaun moans in pain. With the final syllable,
great bolts of spellfire enwrap the dagger and all of his other magical
items. Within a few moments, Mordenkainen's Disjunction begins to take its
toll. The black tendrils enshrouding the dagger begin to pull away, but it
still is not enough. Torm takes out the mace. Steeling himself, he strikes it
a mighty blow... and the world falls away... Stunned by the massive
disruption of the dagger, Torm is knocked to the ground. A dazzling light
erupts from the dagger, and it shatters into thousands of pieces.

        After recovering his senses, he looks at Riklaun. He is comatose, but
uncontrolled, thankfully. With care, Torm takes Riklaun back to Neverwinter,
where the priests pray over his body for hours... finally, Torm sees an
acolyte enter the anteroom where he awaits. A grim look preceds the
news..."We have managed to bring your friend out of Myrkul's door... however,
the destruction of the artifact has taken a large portion of his memory... no
longer can he remember the way of fighting, or of the arcane arts... but, he
does remember everything else, thankfully." Torm went to the room where
Riklaun is kept. Weakly he looks up and smiles at him... "I beat it, friend,
I beat it." No more words need to be said, and Torm embraces his friend.

        As Torm embraces a pale but happy looking Riklaun, Golfdsl stumbles
into the room almost dropping his precious cargo.  It is a huge keg of ale
with the number 1420 burned into its surface.

        "I heard there was reason for a celebration here" he says, as the keg
hits the floor with a resounding boom.  "This will have you back on your feet
in no time Riklaun", he smiles "I only have one more and that is earmarked
for your wedding Torm"  With that Golfdsl steps closer to Torm and the smile
leaves his face replaced by a slightly embarassed expression "I see I
underestimated you, not only did you defeat Riklaun in battle but also you
saw to the heart of his predicament where I had only an inkling." Then, after
pounding the surprised Torm on the shoulder, Golfdsl leaves the room
whistling to gather more Seekers and their friends.

Epilogue:


        As Riklaun rested in a bed at the Temple, A rustling could be heard
far away.  Riklaun's ears pearked up.  He could sense the sounds.  He did not
know what they were and was worried that it might be something terrible.
Sweat beaded up on his forehead, his pale color growing paler.  He swung his
feet onto the floor to get away from the feeling that was growing closer.
Just then, he broke into a smile and lay back down to rest some more.

        Out atop Berun's hill, the undead gone for now, the wind picks up.  A
mist rises from the road and envelopes the town.  The roads are covered with
the fog, it obscures everything.  Inside the fog can be seen several figures.
They slowly make their way out of the fog.  As the first emerges from the
fog, you could see who it was.  Lord Monar looks up at the sky and says a
prayer to Correllion.  Behind him, TadsBro1 walks, not too worse for the
wear.  More poeple come out of the thick cloud.  Every one who exits the mist
is one who was killed by Riklaun's foul deeds.  All save for one.  Braldt2
does not emerge from the cloud.  Perhaps he was gone for too long.  Who
knows?  He is still missing.  Correllion Latherion save him...Makmorg the
Black Crossbow:  Siege at Floodblest - Prelude
(Submitted by: Makmorg)

In a dark, high ceiling room, somewhere outside the city of Neverwinter, a
group of men and women were seated at large, black wooden table, planning a
murder.  They were speaking among themselves in hushed, secretive tones,
their arms gesticulating wildly as they each emphasized some point.  The only
other occupant in the chamber stood by impatiently a few paces away waiting
for the black robed bunch to conclude their discussion.  Unlike those at the
table, the outsider was not human, and was far too large to sit with them.
It was the reason why the high ceiling room was chosen for this meeting.  The
outsider preferred it this way, however, and was content to stand and tower
over the humans like a living edifice.  The cloud giant wanted to remind them
of their inferior status next to him.  Besides he did not want to sully
himself with their stench.

Dressed in traditional white robes and holding a tree sized club at his side,
the cloud giant stared with contempt at the humans, annoyed with their
whispering and hisses.  He was quickly losing his patience with the group of
conspirators.  They seemed to be engaged in some kind of argument but the
giant could not discern its purpose nor did he care to at this point.  His
patience finally at an end the cloud giant spoke in the booming voice of his
kind.

"Enough of your prattle!  You are testing the limits of our tenuous alliance!
Why have you summoned me?"

The humans at the table fell immediately silent, stunned by the sudden
interruption of their discussion.  A tense second passed before one of the
dark robed figures at the table, a young red-headed male, spoke.

"Forgive us, oh mighty Gladius, most powerful of your kind.  We know how
valuable your time is and would not dare to insult our giant allies with
trivial matters."  The red-headed male smiled inwardly.  Cloud giants were
the most arrogant of giant kin and could be easily satiated by flattery, very
much like some species of dragons  Seeing that his words had the desired
effect-Gladius the Cloud Giant swelled his chest, raised his shoulders and
tempered his anger for the moment-the red-headed man continued.  "We have
requested your magnificent presence for a matter of extreme importance."

The pale skinned cloud giant stared down at the red-headed man as he would
look at offal crusted on his soft leather sandals.  With distaste he spoke
again.  "Then why all this whispering?  It is only because of our new found
alliance with the Zhentarim and our common goals that I even bothered to
acknowledge your summons."

Bowing deeply the red headed man said, "And we are truly honored by your
presence.  We of Zhentil Keep mean no disrespect by our talking."  Pointing
at a dark haired woman seated at the end of the table closest to the cloud
giant the Zhentarim agent said, "Apparently one of our kind is in
disagreement with why we have sum..., er, asked you to be here."

The woman showing no fear, her brow knitted in defiance, stood up suddenly
and said to the others at the table, "I still feel our large friend here
cannot handle the task we have in mind for him."  She did not even bother to
look at the cloud giant.

A dead silence filled the chamber and the red-headed man silently cursed the
woman.  She had openly insulted a cloud giant.  He quickly began to prepare a
spell-he was sure the others at the table were doing the same-to defend
himself against the cloud giant's impending assault.  Much to his surprise,
however, Gladius remained calm and spoke quietly.

"What is it you want of me, Zhentarim?"

Thank Cyric, thought the red-headed man.  Not wasting his good fortune he
quickly asked, "Do you know of Makmorg the Black Crossbow?"

Briefly searching his thoughts the cloud giant answered, "Yes, the slayer of
your kind is known even among my people.  What does he have to do with my
being here?"

It was apparent Gladius was losing his patient again.  The red-headed
Zhentarim quickly blurted out, "He is in Neverwinter!  As you know he lives
to destroy us.  His presence in the area poses a serious threat to our plans
for Neverwinter.  Already he has killed several of our agents in
Neverwinter's Warehouse District while rescuing an information broker we had
hoped to silence from our grasp."

His face stoic, the cloud giant said, "And you wish for me to destroy him for
you, is that it?"

"Yes!  Our agents in Neverwinter tell us that he is on his way to the village
of Floodblest at the request of Lord Nasher.  His arrival there could
jeopardize our carefully laid out plans for the village."

Suddenly turning towards the dark-haired woman, Gladius said, "And what was
your problem with this?"

Staring up at the cloud giant, still with defiance in her eyes, she said,
"Many men and monsters have tried and have failed to kill the Black Crossbow.
Their only reward was a bolt from his infamous crossbow through their hearts.
The only thing they succeeded in doing was adding another chapter to his
legend."  Turning to the others at the table she added, "We cannot destroy
him with brute force alone.  We must use subterfuge, destroy his heroic
image.  Our allies in the Kraken Society can be of use for this purpose."

Once again an uncomfortable silence filled the chamber and the red-headed
male prayed to Cyric to strike down the contemptuous women with a bolt from
above before she insulted the cloud giant any further.  Gladius, however,
surprised the Zhentarims assembled at the table again and started to laugh,
his loud voice echoing throughout the chamber.  

When it seemed his booming laughter would bring down the entire structure he
stopped, hefted his club over his shoulder, and said, "Hear me little humans,
I will do you the favor of eliminating this pesky Black Crossbow.  It only
serves to improve my own reputation to slay a living legend among your
people.  I do not fear him nor his puny weapons."

Breathing a silent sigh of relief, the red-headed human said, "Thank you, oh
great one."  Casting a quick glare at his dark haired Zhentarim comrade, he
added, "We know you shall succeed where many others have failed."  The dark
haired women glowered back at the man at his obvious barb towards her.

Heading towards the exit Gladius the Cloud Giant said, "I am off to
Floodblest then."  The giant began to lumber off towards the exit but then
suddenly paused, turned back towards the Zhentarim group and said, "Before I
go there is one more matter to be taken care of."

The cloud giant's words trailed off and nausea quickly found its way to the
red-headed man's stomach.  Before he could do or say anything Gladius
suddenly whipped his club around and smashed the dark-haired woman,
completely shattering her body as well as her end of the table.  So quick and
ferocious was the attack that the woman did not even have a chance to scream.
All that remained of her was a pulp of flesh, blood, bone, and wood.  The
surviving Zhentarim quickly jumped up, their hands glowing with magic, but
Gladius did not press his attack any further.  A large smile creased his face
instead.  He spoke to the stunned crowd.

"Let it be known that I am neither man nor monster.  I am Gladius, mightiest
of the Cloud Giants and Makmorg the Black Crossbow shall be a stain beneath
my sandals and his vaunted crossbow will become a mere trinket to be added to
my collection of junk."  He then stalked off, his laughter once again booming
in the chamber.  

Once the cloud giant was gone the red-headed man slumped back into his seat.
His associates were chattering amongst themselves, still in shock at the
brutal death of one of their own.  Darer, the red-headed man, merely looked
at the shattered end of the table where Zarayla once stood and laughed.  So
loud did he laugh that his comrades thought he may have gone mad.  It was
pure joy, however, not madness that danced in his head.  Speaking to no one
in particular he said, "That would be some sight, would it not.  The great
Makmorg, a smear on a cloud giant' s sandal."  And he continued to
laugh.Mystra's Bidding
(Submitted by: Elminstor)

A cold chill woke the adventurer in the dark corner of Macuso's inn.  The
room was dark and empty, lacking the haughty tales and boisterous yaps that
hindered Elminstors sleep just a few hours ago.  The fire place had only a
few coals left and they only had a few moments left to light the night.  The
cold began to bite the fingers of the ol' mage as he stood to begin an
incantation that would light the room and most likely the whole inn.

As the incantation began to bring warmth and light he drew himself toward a
desk against the wall.  "Now where is that letter?" asked El.  He had just
received an invitation from Realmleader to adventure in the savage north to
search out the dungeons of Triboar.  "Ah. dung heaps" he exclaimed. "I've way
too many letters from the guilds of Neverwinter this morn."  As he sorted
through the stack of letters he heard a voice in his head.  Something about
this Neverwinter region allows these adventures to talk to each other even
though they are half way across the realms from each other.  "I'll have to
look into this magic more when I get done" El thought to himself.

"Well met, Realmleader.  I was just searching for your letter when I heard
your voice in my head.  Taking a bit of getting used to but I think I can
communicate this way. Aye, I am in the southwall section of Neverwinter.
Hmm.  You want to meet in Crossergate Inn?  Ok, I'll be on the path as soon
as I find the culprit in this area that has a plan to assignate Lord Nasher.
Oh by the way I am with the lovely Songshine, she's been quite entertaining
company.  She'll be joining us for the adventure you've requested.  Til' then
my friend."

     **********************************************************************

A white flash filled the town hall of Phlan as a mage with long white hair
and beard appeared out of mid air.  Unnoticed above the clashing swords and
rays of magice, the mage almost felt tired of teleporting here and there to
save the realms from chaotic evil plans of men that wanted to rule Faerun
with an iron hand.  Evil mages dressed in scarlet robes stood in the entrance
of the hall and fighters with black plate slashed at the personal guard of
Number One.

Slipping past the fighting, El knew where to find the Council of Ten.  "Well,
you've  a situation on your hands".  He smiled at the council and assured
them everything would be over soon enough.  The council explained that
Zhentil Keep was up to their expansion in Moonsea again.  Zhentil Keep
offered a treaty, or at least Manshoon thought it could be called that.
"Well then, let's see if we can even up the scores" smirked the ol' mage.

As the bearded one came into view of the mages and zhent fighters, El barely
had time to open his mouth before a shower of white pulsating missiles and
crackling lighting was flying through the air toward his torso.  Each one of
them hit home into the chest of the great foe of Zhentil Keep.  A golden
almost bronze glow radiated around El, he smiled and only muttered one word,
all the magic was turned and headed straight back toward the scarlet dressed
mages.  The last dying breath of a zhent let forth a yell that the battle was
lost.  Only a few black-clad bodies remained to reveal the failed effort of
Zhentil keep.  Another white flash filled the lobby of the Town hall.

         ********************************************************************

The inn at Vilnask offered new company each passing moment.  Theives, sages,
priest, and fighters came in and would offer new words of conversation to the
two men sitting in the back corner.  Most would have an ale and maybe a bite
to eat but words wouldn't depart from their mouths.  They almost missed the
entrance of Elminstor due to the crowded doorway of travelers coming and
going.

Greetings, my friends.  Mystra's bidding has called me away again.  It is
something that those who know me must learn to accept. 

The two at the table were squabbling over who'd buy the next  drink.  Waving
his hand over the table brought a ting sound and a flash of platinum to the
table.  El had no intention of putting a restraint on his thirst to listen to
a friendly debate of who'd buy the next ale.  Smiles lit the faces of his two
new found friends.  "Thankye' kindly, Elminstor. Round for the whole inn,
barkeep!!"

As the two men headed out the door, El found a quiet place in the back of the
inn and offered a prayer to his goddess, Mystra.

     **********************************************************************

The trail to Triboar was well trodden.  They could see traveling bands ahead
and behind them.  Yells of battle, clashing sword, and sounds of wild magic
flying introduced battles.  Nay was a time when an adventurer would go
without being offered help to his battle.  Traveling alone wasn't a good idea
in these parts.  Even invisible people would be found out by the ever-ready
attacks of beast and kraken spies.  This was a strong party though.  Many
beast fell prey to the swords and scorcery at hand.  It wasn't long before
the gate to Triboar came upon them.

Going straight past the inn and down a street with many doors they entered a
door that Elminstor could see as soon as they rounded the last corner.  To
him, there was a blue fiery radiance coming out of the door and up to the tip
of the roof.  If it was another time, El would've stopped and took a bit of
time to see exactly what awaited  in the lower parts of Triboar.
Nevertheless, he could sense something evil, yes, a great evil.  He
remembered when he first felt the presence of a beholder, and shivered at the
thought of the grotesque appearance that awaited.

As the secret door was bashed open, the adventurers dashed around the corner
of a well decorated hallway.  Two clerics with a band of kraken spies were
admiring thier new found pet, an ice hound.  When the slab of meat hit the
floor in front of their pet, a door swung open to reveal five young
adventurers searching for the evil that lurked in this place.  Maces grabbed
and a command of attack only the hound understood introduced the adventurers
to newly found battle. Adventuring bands of wandering travelers would not be
coming to their aid.

Remembering the prayer back at the Vilnask inn, El put full faith in his
lovely lady.  Incantations of priests filled the room and spells flew forth
from the opposing forces.  Elminstor spoke a word to his wand and a bolt of
lightning shot across the room into the gut of one of the evil priest.  There
was a mist of crimson splash coming from the back of his body before it
turned into a charbroiled crispy carcass.  The ice hound lost his sense of
loyalty to his masters and began to fight only out of self defense.  He
snapped and breathed ice at the adventurer closest to him, but a ball of fire
put an end to his attempted victory.  At last there was but one kraken spy
left in the lookout room that guarded the ever pressing evil.  El muttered a
few words and the spy was frozen in his tracks.  In the heat of battle one of
the adventurers lashed out and put a swinging flail into his skull.

Now why'd ye go and do that?  We could of gotten information out of em'
m'friend.  El just smiled and began to search the bodies of the slain foes.
"Here we go" said El. With outstretched arms he held a letter in front of his
squinting eyes.  It says the third door from this one holds the great evil.
Well, what are we waiting on?

As they started toward the door, a white flash filled the room again.  The
adventurers were alone but brave and wondered where Mystra had sent her loyal
subject when they had slain the last beholder.Zaknafe 'The Nightstalker' Drow
Mercenary cont....
(Submitted by Zaknafe)

 On my return to my quarters within the thieves confines beneath southwall,
I've contemplated all the reasons why the guild had me do the job when any
could have done it with ease. The answer was not an easy one to know, the
years I spent in the underdark taught me that you are to trust in no one and
so with that I will proceed to get the answer to this question.

  Payment, as promised was given to me, maps and books with variations of the
different languages, plus jewels. Still the thought of what the intentions of
the thieves guild where for me troubled me, and I do not like to be troubled.
Justin came through the door as I was in deep thought but my warrior
instincts brought me to immediate attention as my door swung open. I quickly
met him with my blade under his chin.....

"Please Please if you will it is I" Justin spoke

"Well Well do you not know how to knock?" I replied steadily.. "No respect at
all... but I will have it!!! "

"My apologies... Zaknafe...'The Nightsalker'.... Ultrin Sargtlin!! I shall
ask permission the next time I approach your room.." 

I raised one eyebrow and looked at him curiously, I wasn't sure if he was
seriously giving me these honorable titles or if he was just patronizing
me....in either case my patience with this one was at a close end..I stared
at him with great intensity and spoke in a deep silent voice.. " yes... you
will or it will be the last time you enter and remain alive.."

"Is this any way to treat a friend?" Justin asked

"Muhahaha!!.... no it is not .... " was my reply hoping he would get the jest
of what I was saying..I then placed my scimitar back in its scabbard, never
taking my eyes off of Justin. I then noticed a drip of sweat trickling down
his face, and I knew then he feared me.. and  I would indeed have his
respect.

  "The guild master has sent me to inform you he was impressed by how quickly
and cleanly you completed the Killing of Nostilic. He would also like....."

"Does he not respect me enough to tell me this himself??!! Instead he sends
an arron boy to speak for him?! I wish to see this... this.. guild master ."
I interrupted  in a angrily tone. "Zaknafe ..please.. the gm would have
talked to you himself but he is away on some personal business. He will
however be speaking with you on his return."

Beads of sweat now was forming on Justin's bald head and I grinned evilly,
being amused by this thiefs nervousness. "Pitiful" I thought to my self. "He
had better.. thief" I said sternly. " and you where saying?"

"Oh.. ummm yes... he would also like to offer you a position in the guild"

"Position?. What position would this be?" I asked starting to understand that
the assassination was a test of my abilities. "The position I do not know
exactly, however on his return he will discuss that with you"   This would be
interesting, and could prove profitable, however being that Justin is ranked
high in this guild and seeing how easily he could be handled.. hmm... If
this is any indication of what the guild master is like.... hmmmmm I could
just as easily take over this Guild Muhahaha but first I'll have to meet this
gm....Robitius' Story
(Submitted by Robitius)

My history is a simple one, not interesting at all.  I've spent a lot of time
trying to forget who I was, but for some reason I have the urge to reminisce
right now... perhaps it is because the last link with my past has been lost,
and I am free.

I was born in a small village just outside the city of Carrinton.  My
great-grandfather had been a baron, and a fine warrior.  He was also an
arrogant, petulant man, given to moments of fierce anger.  His cold stare
could suddenly blaze into fire, and anyone near him might become a victim of
his heavy fists.  God, how I hated him.  But it was he and my uncle that I
was raised with, not my father.  My father had gone insane three months after
my birth, killing two men and a women while believing he was being attacked
by monsters...

So at an early age I was introduced to the hot, stuffy, proper world of
nobility (my father had refused to accept the titles offered to him.  He was
content to live a solitary life in the village, guiding it's affairs from a
removed position; letting others take credit for his actions.  I respected my
father, though all I ever heard about him was that he shirked his
responsibilities, that he was a coward).  It seemed that in every area of my
life, my relatives would be there to ruin any chance for excitement.  I was
trained in the "arts of war" by my uncle, who seemed to take personal pride
in my quickly-developing skills.  Whereas my grandfather was strong and
dominating, my uncle was a petty man.  He was obsequious and, in my opinion,
very lacking in character.  Yet he tried to take a a hard-line attitude with
me, until one day I pushed my sword to his throat and told him simply to mind
his tongue.  You see, I was beginning to resemble my grand-father.  My
abilities with weapons soon became far superior to many in the castle,
including my grand-father who at that time was well over 60.  My attitude was
as cold and haughty as his, though I never lost my temper.  One day when a
servant spilt scalding hot water on my leg, I bared my teeth and held in my
scream.  I didn't yell or even reprimand the servant, I simply asked for my
sword and beheaded the unlucky fellow.  I shudder now to think what a monster
I might have become if events had been different.

It was on my seventeenth birthday that the King was overthrown in a gladiator
rebellion.  It would never have been successful except that a small faction
of nobles supported and organized it.  These nobles then ordered all lands
stripped from any still loyal to the old king.  That included my
grand-father.  Suddenly our family went from incredible wealth to complete
destitute.  And I found myself in a strange position.

My grandfather was sorely affected by the loss of his titles and power (I
believe now that he never was strong as I had thought, only a product of the
position he held).  He became snappish and bitter, and the fact that the
entire family, all fourteen of us, lived together among three small huts
didn't help any.  My uncle ran away, or was killed--no one really knows or
cares.  

I, on the other hand, underwent a remarkable change.  I reveled in my
new-found freedom.  All the absurdities of living with nobles were gone; all
the manners, the petty dinners, the tedious hours of magic and history
lessons, the long, restless hours spent sitting about the castle in tight,
itchy shirts, it was all gone.  Finally I knew what freedom was.  I didn't
have a job and I soon found that I didn't need one.  I became adept at
stealing what I needed: food, clothes, money, weapons, whatever.  I became
known as the "phantom of Carrinton," though no one would name Robitius Caius
as such, for no one knew it was me that was doing all the robbing.

It was about this time that the new King, a former gladiator (the crowd
favorite in fact), suddenly imposed a harsh tax on the people in order to
finance his little coup-de-taut.  The villagers were devastated, and though I
cared nothing for them, I hated to see children starving and women moaning in
hunger.  I began to use my thieving abilities to steal from the rich and give
to the villagers.  I soon found that stealing from barons and dukes and the
like was much more difficult than stealing a loaf of bread from the downtown
market.  Still, I managed to steal enough to keep at least some of the
villagers from starving to death.

On my last excursion, I was at a petty baron's castle--the very same castle
that had belonged to my grandfather.  I had managed to slip across the moat
unseen and unharmed.  I was becoming too bold, though.  Somewhere in the back
of my head a small voice kept telling me not to try stealing from a castle,
but I squashed those thoughts mercilessly.  I scaled the wall rapidly and
slipped into the nearest passageway.  I knew my way well around the castle,
and I headed quickly towards the treasure chamber.  At that time, a servant
or somebody saw me and shouted the alert.  Running now, I thrust open the
door to the treasure room and burst inside.  I heard footsteps behind me and
frantically searched for a way out.  Then I saw, sitting on a small pedestal,
an ebony blade, glowing faintly a sickly blue color.  Without thinking I
snatched it up and slashed through the air behind me.  My eyes followed the
path of the blade and I saw a guard fallen on the floor, his throat cut open.
The blade seemed to be giving off an eerie sound, to match the sickly blue
glow.  It was almost a low, continuous whistle.  I didn't have time to think
about it though as three more guards burst through the doorway.  Bags of
gold, enameled shields, gem-studded daggers with even more glamorous sheaths,
necklaces, and countless other treasures littered the floors.  Movement was
very difficult, and flight was impossible.  The only way out was through the
three guards.  Heroically, knowing my death was imminent, I threw myself at
the guards.  The ebony blade seemed to dance in my hands, parrying killing
blows deftly, and then swiftly counter-attacking.  The blades snapping
together, accompanied by the low whistle being given off by my own sword,
seemed to make a sort of song--my death-song I was sure.  Yet my blade found
two more throats and embedded itself securely through the third guard's
chest.  Heaving for air, I stood dumb-founded that I had killed three
professional swordsman at one time.  Looking down at Throatwhistler, as I
decided to name it for it's uncanny knack of striking at the throat and it's
eerie music, I knew that I had not done most of the fighting.  Shaking myself
out of my daze, I managed to flee from the castle (after filling my pockets
with gold and some valuable trinkets of course).  Only one person saw me--a
servant.  Unfortunately, she had a good few moments to stare and memorize my
face.  So as I left the castle, I didn't return home.  I didn't want to bring
punishment to my family.  I headed west.

The years between then and now went quickly.  I managed to find myself
accepted into the exclusive Kraken society of spies and thieves, yet they
were too political for my style--I had renounced anything to do with nobles
and the like long ago.  I left the Kraken society, leaving three dead Kraken
behind me, too, and I again traveled west--to Neverwinter.  Then I met a man
named Movarl, and joined his thieves guild.  In time, the tedious busy-work
got to Movarl (he wanted the freedom of roaming the streets, the same as I
had once found long ago).  So I took over as guildmaster of the Spirit
Lurkers.  The rest is history....or history being written.


Robitius Caius
Prince of Thieves
~~Embrace the ShadowsThieves:  The Bane of Neverwiner
(Submitted by Sevrenn)

By Sevrenn Wargcleaver, Skald of the Dragoons of the Crystal Order

A recent article by SwitFeet, of the Spirit Lurkers Guild stated many good
points for guarding yourself and your hard won possessions from the
depredations of thieves. All of these suggestions are very good and work
well, if everyone were to follow these simple tips, thievery would dwindle.
This brings me to the point of this opinion piece, namely that thieves and
our fair city of Neverwinter are incompatible. This isn't to say that the
thief class is a useless one, simply put, NWN offers little opportunity for
thiefly role-play that doesn't infringe on the rights and privileges of the
other players in NW to have a good time.

 To demonstrate my point we must lay out a few key issues. First, all players
in NW are thieves (or more properly, privateers), be they Paladins, Mages, or
Clerics, &c. We all kill the anti-social beasts that infest the countryside
and we take as a reward their treasures and possessions, the differences are
that these beasts aren't real, they are computer generated NPC's.  All
adventurers under the catch-all banner of our Lord Nasher are merely licensed
thieves, killing and selling the spoils of war. 

Second, the real problem arises when the thiefly classes ply their trade on
non NPC's, it is one thing to  kill an entire clan of computer-run Kobolds in
the Southwall, take their meager belongings and sell them, it is quite
another to trick a real-live human being using false pretenses, and stealing
an object that may have been hard to acquire. This in fact IS STEALING, I
pay, like all of you good REAL money, not Pearls, XP, HP, or GP's to use AOL.
If I spend an hour or two getting a magic item to trade for something I need,
and you, the thieves steal that item, you have stolen from me real money.
That is an unacceptable event for something that is only a game. If you have
had items stolen from you at the vaults (or elsewhere), you have actually had
REAL money taken out of your pockets by these thieves. 

Third, and less tangible, is the frustration and animosity that thieving
brings to NWN. Roleplaying is good, hate, fear, and ill-will isn't. In my
guild (Dragoons of the Crystal Order) we have had an ongoing series of posts
with our Non sanctioned Guild Neighbors in the Spirit Lurkers, we've had some
fun roleplaying, and riffing back and forth on each other (check it out, it's
kind of fun). That' s good. Unfortunately the fun part seems to have been
preceded by one of our guildsmen being TOSsed off of AOL (to the best of my
knowledge) for being harassing and offensive to one of the SL's thieves.  I
can't say I would have reacted the way this fellow did, but it is indicative
of the bad feelings thievery can bring.  This is only a game, there are
enough facets of modern life that are frustrating and hard to deal with (hey,
everyone, Tax Time's almost here !)  why make enemies and be hurtful in a
gosh-darned game ? 

What are the answers, well, nothing short of a costly re-vamp of the NWN
engine will change the way thieves currently interact with other PC's.
Roleplaying rather than item acquisition couldn't hurt either, but that may
be too much to ask in a game where 'maxxing out' seems to be the goal. In
all, our little fragment of the larger AD&D universe suffers from many of the
problems that have plagued the pencil & paper AD&D game for many years. What
is certain is that to my mind thieving, specifically at the vaults, IS
STEALING. It steals money and time from you. This is why I feel there should
be tougher censures for thieves in NWN.  Hints and tips are good, but
something must be done at the NW administrative level.

[Editor's Note:  Opinions expressed are exclusively those of the author and
do not necessarily reflect those of AOL or the NWN Staff]~A NeverWinter
Valentine~
(Submitted by: HG Flaire)

Flaire and Quill stroll hand in hand in the moonlight by the banks of the
NeverWinter river deep in the West Central Woods, near the site of their
wedding, a scant two weeks previous...

"It's beautiful here, my love... as beautiful as the night we were
married..." she whispers in his ear as he carefully spreads his cloak +3 on
the riverbank for them to sit on.

"Aye", he whispers back to her as he gently helps to pull off her boots and
roll her stockings down, removing them to expose tiny, delicate feet.

"Mmmmmmmm", a sigh of contentment as they dabble their toes in the warm,
steaming waters of the mysterious river... she leans against him, enjoying
the quiet moment of privacy... breathing deeply she is tantalized by a
slight, perfumed breeze floating through the air...

"I wonder..." she muses... "that scent... it reminds me so much of home...
something special from the Isles of Nyte..."  With a last playful flip at the
water with her foot, she rises to her feet, swaying with her eyes closed as
she tries to locate the source of the elusive wisps of memory.

"Hey..." mutters Quill, as he brushes the tiny droplets of water from his
jerkin... "where ye goin', hon?"  He looks up to see her enrobed in the
moonbeams, arms half-raised as she slowly wends her way across the tiny
meadow.

Amused, he remains seated by the river, keeping a careful watch over her, and
their surroundings... for though the night is quiet and peaceful... those
that let their guard down carelessly do not live long in the beautiful, but
treacherous NeverWinter Woods.

With a squeak of joy she falls to her knees, getting grass-stains on the hem
of her silken gown... as he watches from afar, she works quickly for a few
moments, then dances across the meadow back to him, her dark hair streaming
behind her gleaming in the moonlight, the fruits of her labour gathered in
her skirt.

On tiptoes, she sneaks up behind him and empties her skirt onto his lap.
Giggling, she covers his eyes with her hands.   "Guess what I found, my
love?"  He carefully feels the things in his lap and identifies them
as...vines?  He carefully sniffs a slightly crushed leaf and is rewarded with
a whiff of a delicate floral perfume.  With another giggle, the slender hands
are removed and he looks down... at a pile of vines... covered with light
green leaves that seem to glow in the moonlight as they are carressed by the
breeze.

Intercepting his confused look with her beautiful emerald green eyes, she
continues to giggle... "Oh love... Tymora is good to us indeed... blessed is
the Lady of Luck... these aren't quite the same... but will do just fine..."
She quickly takes the vines and weaves them gently into two long garlands,
the leaves giving off their scent as she crushes them lightly while entwining
them...

Finished, she rises to her feet, drawing Quill up with her... she lovingly
places one garland around his neck, gently arranging the loose ends to hang
down his front to mid-thigh as they exchange a deep and tender kiss.  He
takes the other garland from her and places it carefully around her neck,
draping it across her shoulders, tenderly placing it over the front of her
gown to hang nearly to the ground.

"Um..... errr...." Quill admires the beautifully scented garlands... "Hon?
What are these?"  Looking up, he notices a single tear on her petal-smooth
cheek, glimmering in the moonlight... alarmed, he holds her close and kisses
the salty drop away, and looks again... at her smiling face, her eyes glowing
with love for him...

"Tis Tymora's blessing, my love... in the Isles we plight our troth with the
lei~maile... that our union be one that is sweetly scented, young and green
forever, full of love and laughter, joy in our hearts, peace in our souls..."

As he catches her in his arms, she flitters away teasingly, the moonbeams
scattering as they dance the dance of love in the moonlight in the quiet
meadow in the Neverwinter Woods.


~HG Flaire~
Quill's SoulMate
Head of Activities, Harper's Guild
High Priestess of TymoraA Question of Identity
(Submitted by: Earl Graye)

A smile on his face, the Earl begins tending his roses before daybreak as is
his daily regimen.  So engrossed in their care and thoughts of his beloved he
fails to notice the pale white dove approaching.  On the third pass he
notices the little creature and extends his hand as a perch.  Gently lighting
so as not to injure his arm with it's golden claws the dove quickly jumps to
his shoulder and whispers its message.  He tells of IO's appearance to the
Council of Wyrmes and the ridicule spoken to ReKlaive and Melody.

"HE WHAT !", the sterness of his voice so unfamiliar the frail appearing dove
quickly takes flight.  Noticing its discomfort he changes his tone, "forgive
me friend, but I have had enough.  Shatter I can ignore because of his
ignorance but IO should know better.  Tell Bellatrix I am in need of her
services and will meet her in the courtyard of Castle Graye in two hours."

His slight friend chirps wildly but he interrupts, "I know it's early yet but
she knows I would nay disturb one of her long naps if I had not the need."

With a wave of his hand and a wisp of smoke the dove vanishes.  Johan takes
the back entrance into the Border Legion keep and makes the immediate left to
the basement stairs.  He finds Meenman dozing in that huge overstuffed chair,
a pile of notes before him from his previous nights work.  "Brother awaken at
once."

"What is it Captain?"

"I will be gone most of the day and perhaps part of the morrow.  I need thee
to cover for me and make apologies to my appointments.  Try to reschedule if
possible.  Tell them I am away on a matter of 'family business' and will
contact them on my return."

"I didn't realize you had any family Earl," came the shaken reply.

"I haven't had for a very long time Meen.  I think it's time I get
reaquainted.  I thank thee in advance for thy usual outstanding service."

Departing the laboratory of his fellow legionaire, Johan makes his way to his
new basement greenhouse.  Those continual light rods Meenman installed on the
ceiling sure have done wonders for his rose experiments here.  He pauses
briefly to check the progress of his latest endeavor.  "Not quite the right
crimson shade yet to be called 'Melody'.  I will have to start another
genetic strain on my return.", he thinks aloud.

Reluctantly returning to the matter at hand he clears his thoughts and
concentrates on the Castle Graye.  A clear picture in mind, he invokes the
ritual of returning and finds himself in the secreted vault far beneath the
courtyard.  It has been a long, long while.  He studies the room as one who
might be entering for the first time.  All his old accouterments remain
undisturbed; the mithril plate armor standing at the center of the back wall,
the mirrored shield engraved with the likeness of a rose hangs on its right,
and his holy avenger 'Leadelgon' in its richly jewel encrusted scabbard on
its left.  Before these, resting on a small chest, gleams his helm of
brilliance and within the chest, neatly pressed and folded, lies his cloak of
deepest scarlet.  He turns, a slight tear in his eye, to look upon the
resting place of his parents.  His proudest accomplishment, the everblooming
rose with its single blossom of the brightest silvery tint, answers with
tears of its own from its place of honor between them.  "Lamintetus", he
addresses the rose, "tell me again the story of my parents betrayal."

His mind fills with visions of times past as the oldest rose in the realms
narrates the tale.  "Not long after the creation a human named Alfenian came
to IO.  The nine-fold dragon was impressed by his power and accomplishments
and took him as kindred.  Where there was one there was the other but it was
a union doomed to failure.  IO had long sought the heart of Silveria and when
she turned instead to Alfenian, a mere human, IO was outraged.  Coupled with
the dragon wars IO's heart was heavy.  Dragonkind had nay taken its place as
rulers of Neverwinter and his avatar had been unable to bring them so much as
together on one accord.  'I will teach all dragons to hate the humans as I
now hate Alfenian', he thought and the new plan of the avatar was put into
motion.  Only after their banishment did Alfenian take Silveria into his life
and his bed."  "With the murder of thy father, Silveria created this chamber
as his resting place and the sword 'Leadelgon' as a key onto it.  Thou wert
born here Johan though in her grief Silveria died at thy birth."

Johan kneels before the resting place of his father and speaks.  "Father, I
know not if the time has come.  But I can nay longer remain idle while the
keeper of me heart is harassed and harried.  This thing I must do!"  With
firm resolve he turns again to face his former self and begins removing the
things that reveal his presence as Earl Graye.  Donning the image of his past
he places the image of his present within the chest.  "Always amazed me how
that thing could expand or contract to accommodate it's contents," he muses.

He draws Leadelgon and raises it toward the surface above, as entrance or
exit to this chamber can be gained only by him or one holding the sword, and
wills himself to the courtyard.  The magnificent 'pegasus' Bellatrix awaits
him there, the silvery tips of her great wings glistening in the sunrise.
Wordlessly he mounts and spurs her skyward.  As they rise over Daggerford
Wood he leans forward, "I think thou knowest where to."

Her hooves of etheralness spark to life and within the hour they arrive at
the celestial realm of IO.  "Thou hast best wait here lass", he says
dismounting before the hall of the celestial dragon.  Drawing all his power
he burst the great doors from their hinges scattering them into a shower of
splinters and strides forth.  "I think that suitable repayment for thy
entrance to the Council's tower."

Recognition falls upon the face of IO.  "You always were one to not get even
but rather ahead.  I thought thee dead bold one.  When did ye add the rose to
thy shield?"

"He IS dead.  Thou hast mistaken me for the father I never knew.  I was only
but born when thou permitted the fall of thy dragonkind and the subsequent
death of my parents.  How darest thee again repeat the lie that a dragon
female can nay bare the child of a human.  I would have thought my birth had
taught thee love conquers all things.  Does thy jealousy know no end?  True,
my form is that of a human and I am unable to assume a dragon form but within
me beats the heart of a dragon as my advanced years hast proven.  I know well
the ways of the red but I also know the heart of Melody.  Love is a power
greater than thee IO."

"So you have children.  Will the High Red Lord Melody be satisfied with
freaks like thee unable to assume the form of their mother?"

"Who's to say whether our children will be dragon or human.  Surely not thee
for my mere existence proves the fallacy of thy wisdom."

IO remains silent, eyeing the sword at Johan's side.  A strange familiarity
there.  As if the sword itself posses the soul of Silveria.  'She was indeed
the greatest among us at producing such things.  This appears to be her
pinnacle of achievement.  What I wouldn't give for that blade', he thinks.

"I have spent my life proving that, as my father pleaded to thee, all humans
are not evil", the Earl continues.  "Like the mighty dragon they come in many
varieties.  I am quite amused, that though thou failed to recognize me, the
noble leader of the Council did, though only me heart as none now living know
my true identity.  Did not Shatter's reference to me as the richest man in
Never Winter not make thee suspicious?   What human paladin dost thou know
that hoards things of beauty and rarity?  I would have thought that after all
these years thou wouldst have realized that my father never betrayed thee and
some humans can be trusted as he was worthy of trust.  Art thou still in
hopes they can be annihilated from the realms?  I fear they are greater than
the stars in the heavens and sooner or later ye will be forced to grant them
their due for they will gain it with or without thy wishing it to be.  I
again encourage thee, as did me father, to allow free exchange between the
two races for the betterment of both."

"I still see no end to my wrath," IO spits forth.  "But let me ask thee this
freak of nature, why hast not thee joined the Council?  They do except
halfbreeds as minor servants", he chuckles evilly.

"I serve those of my own choosing.  And I need not be a member of the Council
to serve her.  In my search for a decent part of humanity I have befriended a
group of great merit.  The band was formed before the Council's reemergence
and I have a commitment to them, great friendships among them, and a loyal
and true bond.  As long as they art in need of my services I will continue to
aid them in their endeavors."

"IO I have said my piece.  I leave thee to repair thy doors."  Not waiting to
be dismissed the Earl turns his back on IO and departs.

'And Meldoy's brethren think me a push-over', he smiles to himself.

"Well Bell' lets be back to Castle Graye", he speaks upon returning to where
he left the pegasus.

"I have a little business to tend to before returning home", comes the
booming 'masculine' voice.

"Bell?  What is amiss here?"

"Nay bold warrior.  I have sent her home.  It is I, Great IO."

"But, I ............"

"NO you were fooled as were many of the Council.  Dost thou really expect I
would appear to them over such a trivial matter when I have not done so over
matters of greater import?  Dost thou think I would let a mortal talk to me
as ye did to the imposter?", Great IO bursts into laughter.  "And would you
expect me to appear to thee in my true form?  Few have seen me as such and
none know the place I call home not even thy resourceful 'pegasus?' friend."

"So you know Bellatrix to be my mother's sister."

"I know all Johan Graye including thy dragon heart.  I grieved long at the
death of thy mother and years later at thy father's death as well.  He was
the one true friend I could count on through eternity and I have often wished
for his company again."

"So what should the Council do concerning the coexistence of the races?"

"That is for them to decide.  I inspired the writers of the charter to make
mention of the kindred so others could share the joys I experienced with thy
father.  But some do not wish it thus, the whole must put it to a vote."

"The dragons have firm convictions on their separate beliefs in this matter.
I fear this matter could put the Council asunder", explains Johan.

"Then I will be truly disappointed."  "I have tarried long enough with thee
Dragon Heart.  Just ahead lies a matter that does require my personal
attention for I really don't care to be impersonated.  Thou can use the sword
to return to thy home.  Leadelgon is one of a kind ye know.  Though thy
mother could nay live without thy father neither could she leave thee alone.
She poured her soul into that weapon so as to see thee would reach adulthood.
She would be proud of thee even though thou hast showed great stupidity in
making such a stand against me.  But then again it wasn't me now was it", IO
snickers.

Taking wing the majestic 'pegasus' makes way for the now drafty hall ahead.
"IMPOSTER !  Though thou dost not truly deserve it I Challenge thee to a
battle of the Claw and Wing."

His challenge is met with a tremendous lightning bolt which crumbles the
hall.  "So you truly have no honor.  SO BE IT !"  The 'pegasus' transforms
into the lofty form of the Concordant Dragon and with one mighty swipe of his
tail the imposter is brought down.  Fear emerges upon the imposters face as
he now realizes who has issued the challenge.  IO pins his feeble body with
one mighty taloned foot and swiftly bites off his head.

Knowing he has seen too much already Johan quickly activates Leadelgon
returning to the vault below Castle Graye.  He returns the symbols of his
past to their resting place, puts on the uniform of the Border Legion and
drifts off to sleep to the gentle singing of the rose Lamintetus.  Thoroughly
rested he wills himself to the courtyard at the new dawn to find his love
Melody waiting there.

"Johan", she looks at him with wonder, "thou art truly one of my kind?"

Quite taken aback by the question he fumbles for an answer.  "So thou hast
been visited by me aunt I suppose?"

"That I have dear heart.  Through her I was able to see a vision of what hast
befallen thee this past day.  I have always felt something was different
about thee.  I guess I am really not surprised", she looks at him with still
some question in her eyes.  "So what be the truth my love?  Was this vision
something which truly happened or a creative fantasy of thy aged aunt?"

"Dearest Melody, keeper of me heart", he begins.  "Genetically speaking I
suppose thou art correct.  However, I believe Noble ReKlaive to have assessed
the situation better by referring to me as one having the heart of a dragon
as in all other ways I seem to be truly human."  "Me Aunty Bell cared for me
as infant and child for when she came to look for me parents in the glade
which is now this courtyard the sword took me to her.  Though she raised me
in the ways of a dragon I never came to realize the true nature of that part
of my heritage.  Perhaps it was resentment at losing my parents, I truly know
not the reason."  "Eventually I tired of trying and left the things linking
me to my mother's heritage behind in the vault below.  It was then I learned
I could come and go from the vault without the power of the sword, though
only once per day.  The armor and shield belonged to me father.  Of course
the sword came from my mother, as thou must have seen in the vision.  And the
helm was a gift from Aunt Bellatrix from her hoard."  "I left the realms to
explore my human heritage and had just been knighted Sir Johan Graye when
fate brought me back to these forgotten realms.  Upon being granted the
Earldom of Daggerford Wood I built this lovely castle thou wilt come to share
with me at the site me parents loved so dearly."  "I have felt a great burden
lifted from me at learning that the Great IO came to grieve for the loss of
my father.  Who knows what the future holds.  I care not as long as thou art
there to share in it with me."

She rushes to his arms and places a gentle kiss upon his lips.  As he holds
her close she feels the beating of his dragon heart.  Pulling back from him
slightly she smiles, "I think that 'silver' tongue also linked to thy dragon
heart.  I have finally set a date my dearest.  On Saturday March 2nd, at the
stroke of midnight, I will become thy bride.  We will bring in the new day
with our new life as Earl and Ldy Graye.

@---}-------------Lost in the Woods
(Submitted by: Capybarra)

     Capy sat and stared out the window, her heart and mind in turmoil,
letters from the man she loved in her hands.  She pressed her nose to the
cold glass, fogging up the window with her breath as she gazed out at the
early morning barren winter landscape.  Stunned, she could do nothing but
look out the window, for hours it seemed.  What had happened?  A few words
here, a few words there, and it was over?  She looked at the scrolls and
tried to work out what had happened.  She took up the last one and read the
lines again...   A single tear fell on the letter and smudged the ink.  She
tried to remember what she had done.  Confused, she looked at his letter
again.  As  many times as she read it, it still looked pretty final.  From
the rest of the  letter, it didn't look like he would be changing his mind.  

     She felt the stab of pain in her heart again and threw all the letters
she was holding across the room as hard as she could, the tears rolling
freely.  Try as she could, she couldn't make him happy, or so it seemed that
was the way he felt.   

     She broke down sobbing.  She could not stay here in this room, where
they had shared so many hours of joy in each other's arms.  Not if he didn't
want her anymore.  She snatched a few of her things from around the room,
pulling out drawers in her haste and leaving them on the floor.  She looked
in dismay at the mess she had left when she had a change of clothes, warm
blankets, and a few other supplies  in her pack.  She hadn't made the bed
either.  She kicked the things on the floor out of the way as she made her
way towards the door, her despair heavy in her heart.  "Well he will be angry
with me for making such a mess," she thought to herself as she slammed the
door.  "But he is already angry with me I think.  Perhaps he can get his
squire to clean it up for him..." she mused, "and I don't think we're going
to have that knighting ceremony for me anytime soon.  At least not the way
things sit at the moment." 

      She ran downstairs and outside, tripping and falling down hard in the
courtyard, bloodying her hands and knees.  A page ran to help her up.
"M'lady, let me help you inside," he said, removing a cloth from his pocket,
and touching her wounds with it. 

      She looked at the young man.  "You want to help me?" 

     "Aye, m'lady." 

     "Go find me a horse and saddle it.. make sure it is not a horse that
will be missed.  Oh, would that I had found a horse of my own!" 

     "M'lady?  In your condition?"  He eyed her red eyes, now slightly
swollen stomach, and then her bulging pack.  "Those wounds must be seen to.
And you are travelling far?" 

     "Never mind that!  Shall I go saddle it myself?"  Her silver eyes
flashed at him.  She was not accustomed to treating the young this way, and
felt bad when she saw the hurt look cross his face before he headed to the
stables, returning shortly thereafter with a horse.  

      "My own horse Dawnstar, m'lady, I did not wish to presume and take
another." 

      She looked over the horse.  "She is beautiful, thank you," she
whispered, removing several jewelled bracelets from her wrist.  "This should
be adequate compensation for her."  She pressed them into his hand.  "One
more thing, please..." she looked about the empty courtyard and then back at
him.  He nodded.  "Please tell no one that you have seen me until after
sunset tonight, even if they question you... although chances are, no one
will be looking for me."  His eyes widened in surprise as her voice broke. 

      He waved vaguely towards the castle.  "But m'lady, the knights..." 

      "Remember, tell no one until AFTER sunset," she repeated. 

      "If I may accompany you and see to your safety?" 

      "NO!!!"  she snapped, but as she saw the look on his face, she
apologized.

      "The business I am on demands that I travel alone, I am sorry, and I am
quite capable of taking care of myself."  She touched his cheek gently to
soften her harsh words.  "You have a great future ahead of you, young man,
you have been most attentive."  With these words, she struggled to mount the
horse.  He took her pack from her and helped her up, and then tied the bag on
the horse behind her. 

      "If I may ask?"  She nodded.  "What am I to tell them after sunset?"

      "That I have left on a trip, I had some urgent business to attend to."

      "And we shall expect your return?  And your destination?"

      "I know not when.  My destination?"  she thought for a bit.  "As far
away as possible."

      "M'lady?"

      "Oh you're right, that is not a good answer is it."  She smiled at him.
"I wouldn't say." 
     With these words, she spurred the horse, and rode out of the castle,
heading for the remotest reaches of the woods. 

       She came to her senses at the edge of the forest.  Night had fallen.
Dismounting, she looked around her quickly before hobbling Dawnstar and
setting her to graze.  She rubbed herself in some sensitive areas, aware that
perhaps she should not have ridden so hard and so long, especially as she was
unused to sitting on horses.  Now she was here, in the clearing, at the end
of the forest, at the foot of a great mountain whose top she could not see.
She quickly made camp, building herself a fire, and stretched herself in
front of it, wrapping herself in blankets.  She tried to recall how she had
come to this place, perhaps that would give her some clue as to where she
was.

       Her memory was all afog, bits and pieces were missing.  She remembered
riding forth from Camelot in the morning, and the assistance of the kind
young man whose name she had been too distracted to ask.  She remembered
stopping in Nightsedge to refresh herself with an early supper, and declining
to pass a night in the somewhat suspicious-looking inn there.  She remembered
passing a party of drow at the entrance to the woods, and how she had hurried
past them without speaking, fearing that with their greater numbers they
would certainly prevail should they wish to do her harm.  

        She remembered the leisurely ride she had taken through the beginning
of the woods at dusk... meeting a vampire of her acquaintance at the end of a
bridge and stopping to speak with him for a moment or two... then there were
three vampires... the first was telling her to leave quickly before danger
befell her... she couldn't remember where she was or how she had gotten
there...  but she couldn't resist the command in his eyes, so she mounted her
horse and left... feeling ill, dizzy and confused as she rode her horse
through the darkening woods...  knowing not where the horse was taking her,
remembering not why she had come to this place, wondering why she had left
home... 

         And so she found herself here, at the end of the path, at the foot
of a great mountain, its top lost in dense, white clouds.  She felt confused,
drained and dizzy.  She wished she were home, but then she remembered...
"Corwin doesn't want me," she cried to herself.  "I can't go back there now."
She looked at the darkened woods at the edge of the clearing, and then up at
the great mountain which loomed above her.  She wept.  "I wish I knew where I
was."  

         She felt fear and loneliness well up in her heart.  There were few
she truly felt close to.  Then she called to Shumard in her mind, and was
pleased at the comfort and reassurance he gave her.  But he rebuked her for
leaving without speaking to anyone, and told her he could not travel far with
Nalika's time nearing.  She wondered at the fate of her own baby.  Now, once
again, she worried about raising the child on her own.  If Shumard came for
her, would she leave with him?  

        Was there any reason to leave this peaceful clearing at the foot of
the mountain?  No matter, she knew not where she was, and knew not how to
return to society.  Here all was peaceful, the crickets and frogs chirping in
the woods.  At home she felt turmoil and distress.  If only all were right
again, she thought to herself, still wondering why Corwin had grown so angry
with her, why he no longer wished her to be his wife.  Her memory was so
patchy, she couldn't recall exactly how she had gotten here, yet, in her
despair, she also could not think of a reason to leave.  What had happened to
her memory?  Why was she so dizzy and confused?  She dared not wander far
from the peaceful clearing, she had enough supplies for some time.  And so
for the time being she would remain where the forest ends here at the foot of
a great mountain, its top lost in dense, white clouds.

     It was peaceful in the clearing, and Capybarra spent her days there
playing with her horse, talking to the birds, gathering nuts and berries,
fetching water, and occasionally climbing partway up the mountain to see if
anyone was about.  She took different routes up and on the third day found a
cave halfway up, whose front entrance looked over a vast expanse of forest.
She stayed there overnight, and in the morning looked down to notice another
clearing quite distant from the one she had camped in.  In this clearing she
thought she could see the glint of armor, and a whisp of smoke from a
campfire.  

     It didn't take long to convince herself to visit this other clearing and
see what sort of creature was camping there.  She had grown somewhat unused
to spending so much time alone, and she thought she could make her way
silently through the brush to observe the stranger and form an opinion before
she showed herself.  But when she crept through the underbrush after picking
her way down to the clearing, she found no one about.  

     She stepped into the clearing and examined the remains of the fire.  It
appeared to have been just recently put out.  The visitor could not have gone
far then.  She examined the tracks and saw someone had been running in
circles through the clearing.  "What manner of person would do that?" she
wondered to herself, as she followed the tracks to find this person had
crashed into the forest, leaving a clear trail of broken branches.  She
laughed softly to herself and changed her mind about staying hidden.  

     "Well I don't think I'm dealing with any sort of an elf or a dryad.  And
certainly an evil would cover his tracks better than this."  She was
beginning to wonder if her fellow traveller was as lost as she was, and if he
was in full possession of his faculties, when she heard crashing through the
brush behind her, on the other side of the clearing, and turned to see Corwin
staggering out of the woods.

     He ran across the clearing towards her and threw himself at her feet.
"Capy, my love, please forgive me, don't be angry with me anymore."

     She drew him up.  "Did you think I was angry with you?  I was not."

     He stared into her eyes and asked "but then why did you leave?"

     "I was hurt that you didn't want to marry me, and I didn't feel I could
stay there with my heart aching."  

     At this she felt herself caught in a tight hug.  She struggled for
breath until his arms relaxed a bit and he said, "I didn't mean that, I was
nervous and only wanted to wait a little longer before the wedding.  I love
you, please come back with me, don't leave me."

     She smiled, feeling all her pain and loneliness wash away, and kissed
him.  "Thank you for coming to find me, I didn't know where I was, or  where
to go from here.  These woods are dangerous I'm afraid.  Of course if you
want me, I'll come back."  As she spoke he was kissing her nose, her
forehead, her cheek, her ear, and up and down her neck.  She giggled at the
sensation of his lips brushing her skin.

     He stopped kissing her and she heard a long silence, and then the feel
of his fingers gently touching her neck.  "Capy?  What's this?"

     She put her fingers up to her neck.  "What's what?" she asked, as she
followed his fingers to the sore spot on her neck and felt two tiny
indentations there.  "What does it look like?"

     "It looks like a... like a bite mark.  Who did you see on your journey?"

     She shook her head and thought.  "Do you mean the vampires I was
speaking to?"

     "You spoke to vampires?"  She saw the disappointment on his face.

     "Well you know how polite I am... why?"

     She felt his hand go to her hot cheek.  "What happened with the
vampires?"

     She thought.  "I... I don't recall exactly.  I seem to have lost part of
my memory."

     "This is terrible!" he cried.  "You have been bitten!  At least your
skin is still warm, so you are still alive..." he trailed off and looked sad.

     "What does this mean exactly?" she asked, her heart pounding.

     "I'm not certain... we will have to do something about it."

     "Perhaps someone at Camelot will know..." she wondered.

     "We must hurry home," he said, grabbing her arm and making as if to run
all the way back.

     "Wait, dear, I have a horse and some things back at my camp.  Come back
there with me, and then we will head home.  You know the way?"

     "I think I can get us back to Camelot," he nodded.

     She smiled at him.  "Let me show you where I camped then."

     Hand in hand, the happy couple entered the woods.  With Corwin by her
side, Capy was no longer afraid to travel.  She was happy to be returning
home.Chance Meeting
(Submitted by: Thorn Hawk)

        The sun had just peaked over the trees to the East of the small inn
when I entered the common room .  It was not a large place, but they did have
the best owlbear ribs in the region along with kegs of frenzy lining the
walls.  The tables were clean and arranged around the room leaving a space in
the middle for the occasional bard to perform.  The bar itself was well
polished and shaped in an "L" with the curve near the back by the door to the
kitchen.  I wooden tray sat upon the bar with a load of silver tankards
waiting to be filled with ale.  Barrels of ale lined the wall behind the bar,
while bottles of wine and other beverages were stashed between the kegs and
around the bar in a chaotic manner that only the tavernkepper knew.  A fire
burned merrily in the large fireplace across the room form the front door.
Hanging above the mantle, shining with inner fire, was a broad sword and a
small crescent moon.

        As I stood just inside the door, Lani, the tavernkeeper's daughter,
came in bearing vases of flowers.  "Good morning Thorn, breakfast will be
ready soon," she said while putting vases on the various tables. 

        "Hail and well met, Lani," I replied, "Where did ye get the flowers?
Spring is still a month off."

        "They were a gift from a lady."

        "A lady?"

        "Yes, she gave them to me as I was fetching water this morning. I
asked her to come in for breakfast, but she seemed in a hurry."

        "Was she wearing a gray cloak with hair the color of honey?" I asked
as Lani came in bearing a bowl of porridge and a pitcher of goats milk from
the kitchen.  Pausing with a slight frown on her face, "yes, she did.  Said
she was heading for Neverwinter," answered Lani.  "How did you know?"

        Rising from my seat, I headed for the door.  "Sorry Lani, I have no
time for breakfast now.  I must head for Neverwinter."

        "You never answered my question, Thorn."

        "I saw her once outside of Longsaddle," I replied as the door closed
behind me.

        The stars were out by the time I saw the lights of Neverwinter in the
distance.  As I slowed to a walk, I gazed upon the city I now called home.  I
had thought to be away longer than a few weeks when I left, but here I was
outside the East gate only ten days after I departed.  A shadow had brought
me back. A vision of a woman with hair the color of honey and the lithe grace
of a dancer.  I shook my head to clear it and entered the city heading for
Mancuso's inn.

        After a brief dinner, I headed for the palace and the great hall
tavern hoping to hear some gossip concerning this woman I followed.  I caught
a glimpse of a gray cloak rounding a corner ahead of me.  Quickening my pace,
I rounded the corner thinking it had to be her only to find an empty street.

        "Who are you?", a soft voice asked.

        Blinking, I found myself looking at a very sharp sword.  "Ah.....
Thorn Hawk," I stammered while slowly backing up.  I had followed this woman
for the past week only to find myself on the receiving end of a sword with my
back against a wall.  Snapping out of my revelry, I looked at my attacker
noting the fair features, honey colored hair, and the greenest eyes I'd ever
seen.

        "Why have you been following me?", she asked while slowly moving out
of the shadows.

        "I..........uh." I could only reply, blushing.  Footsteps could be
heard approaching from around the corner saving me from further
embarrassment.

        "We will meet again, Thorn." Laughing, she turned to leave her sword
disappearing within her cloak.

        "Wait," I called, "Who are you?"

        Soft laughter was my only response as I stood there watching the
shadows.  "Fare thee well m'lady," I said while a pair of city watchmen
walked past.  It had been a long day.

        The image of honey colored hair and emerald green eyes haunted me all
the way home....


Thorn Hawk,
Warrior of Mielikki.The Undead Reborn
(Submitted by: Opslin)

Opslin stood amidst the black army and surveyed the surrounding wilderness.
Through the trees waited a group of humans, seeking to take this area for
their own.  The hills had always belonged to evil, however, and tonight would
be no different than any other.  As their commander sounded a great horn, the
undead denizens charged the living invaders.

Exploding from the brushes, Opslin leapt in front of an unsuspecting
stallion.  The horse's rider, upon seeing Opslin's skeletal face, fumbled
clumsily at his sword.  Instead of drawing a weapon himself, Opslin remained
still.  He knew well what next would happen.

Indeed, as the horse took in Opslin's presence, fear gripped the animal.
Rearing wildly on its back legs, the stallion threw its rider from his saddle
and down to the earth.  Seeing the fallen man's vulnerability, Opslin was
upon him in an instant.  With two gangrenous arms he pinned the man's
shoulders, all the while delivering sharp knees to his ribcage.  When it
became clear the man would not attempt escape, Opslin eased his hold  and
ended the blows.

Opslin peered at the man through hollowed eyes.  If not for the blood and
bruises covering his face, the young man could be considered handsome.  From
his ragged attire, Opslin figured him a farmer, drafted unwillingly into this
hopeless battle.  Like most, the man cowered under the stare of death. 

His chest now heaved erratically, obviously punished by the high fall.  For
an instant, Opslin could feel the man's heart beat through his bones, a
feeling he had not felt since his own death.  It leveled him with regret.


As Opslin's corroded eyelids lowered, his entire being flooded with emotion.
He wanted to feel blood pulse through him, wanted to feel a heart beat within
him.  He longed to walk among the living once again.

Opening his eyes, Opslin almost gagged at the sight of his own rotting hands.
The man still lay in a heap beneath him, his head turned awkwardly sideways.
Opslin reached to his belt and withdrew a dull, jagged dagger. 

As he lifted his blade to the man's throat, a high whisper entered Opslin's
head.  "Fool!  I know what you plan.  I warn you against it!"

Opslin ignored the voice, and said to the man, "Hear me now, for your time is
short.  I give you a choice this night..."

Even as he spoke, the whisper continued in his head, growing in anger.  "I
shook you from the darkest of nightmares.  I dug you from the deepest of
graves.  And you dare turn your back to me?"

"You can die a slow, painful death..."  Opslin traced the man's neck with the
rusted blade.

The voice was no longer a whisper.  "I handed you the gift of eternity!"  

"Or you can have eternity."  Despite himself, Opslin almost spit the words.
"It is your decision.  Make it quickly."

A shrill scream now filled Opslin's head.  "I am Myrkul!  I am your God!  I
OWN YOUR SOUL!"

Wincing, Opslin took a handful of the man's dark hair, and lifted his head.
"Answer now."

In an almost inaudible voice, the reply came.  "Eternity."

"Good," Opslin said, lifting the man upright.  Silently to himself, he
extolled, "Try not to scream too much."

With two cold fingers Opslin shut the man's eyes, then closed his own.  With
all of his power, Opslin hurled his soul outward.  His spirit easily
destroyed the fetters of his corpse-like body, and raced towards the man's
eyes.  Entering the living body, Opslin's spirit quickly expelled the man's
broken soul, directing it into the vacant corpse.

Instantly, the corpse began to convulse violently, rotting limbs flailing in
all directions.  The dirt cased mouth opened slowly and began to scream.  

Opslin cautiously rose to his feet and started quickly away.  He could feel
every last cut on his face, every last bruise on his ribs.  And he loved it
all.

Opslin began to run.   At the moment, he wanted no part of either the living
or the dead.  He never looked back as he fled eternity.Wanderer - Part 6
"The Crystal Cube"
(Submitted by: Lake Mist)

A winter breeze blew litely outside the Triboar Inn as the rangers once again
gathered for a night of adventure...

"Innkeeper, frenzy and roast owlbear for my fellows" bellowed
Dragonklaw..."Jok, Bro KB, Slyvarz, Calinor, ThunderLrd, well met" called the
ranger as frothing mugs of frenzy were passed around...

Dragonklaw looked around the big gathering hall and spied more of his
brethren entering...with a smile he called "Henro, Trollbait, Tolban, Slick
Sly, Lake Mist, a feast awaits here"...Garthlik strolled over trying to pick
a fight with any of the rangers who were foolish enough to forget why they
were here...

Calinor leaned over and casually remarked "Away with you, we have business to
discuss"..."Bah, meetings" remarked Garthlik as he staggered to another table
within the big room...

Calinor and I raised our mugs in salute to each other as we had both been
chosen as members of the Peer Council this day...many congrats were passed
around from the other rangers...much frenzy was consumed...much owlbear roast
was devoured...you would think rangers never ate or drank by the way this
feast disappeared...

Dragonklaw's big fist slammed into the table for attention..."This nite we
seek the Crystal Cube and the Incandescent Jewel"...many heads turned and
shook in agreement to this adventure..."Chrysiana and Wunerful will join us
along the way, so we must travel in two groups"...

Dragonklaw looked around, "ThunderLrd, Chrysiana, Wunerful, Slick SLy, Henro,
Trollbat and Tolban will accompany me and Bro KB, Slyvarz, Calinor and Lake
Mist will accompany Jok this nite"..."Finish your owlbear and down your
frenzy, for we must travel swiftly this nite"...

No heads turned and no one seemed to even care as the two groups of rangers
passed thru the doors of the Triboar Inn to begin this nites
adventures...traveling north...

Once the gate to Berun was made, we followed the path east until we came upon
a secret door at 13,13...Jok whispered "A White Dragon and ten Zhentil
Fighters await us within, so prepare for battle, remember to let all into the
fight before the last we face is dispatched"...

Thru the secret door south we proceeded, Jok the first to encounter the
Zhentil Fighters...once all were in, these were dispatched easily, makes one
wonder where these supposedly great fighters train...

Once completed, we were teleported to 10,14 where we mem'd but did not
fix...thru the door on the west wall and into a larger room...we advanced to
confront...the Beholders were felled first...using muscle and steel...then
our attentions were turned toward the others...two Cloud Giants, two Zhentil
Fighters and ten Kracken Spies...

Bloodied, dirty and tired...we searched the treasure found...the Crystal
Cube...thru the door to the west and then thru the door on the north wall to
6,12...fresh air...one step east...we headed north to Longsaddle...

Once thru the gate, we traveled a long double back path east and then
west...at 5,14 we encountered two Cloud Giant Shamans and six Griffins...it
is amazing what a Trident +3 will do to a Cloud Giant Shaman in close
quarters combat...they don't last long...

The Inn at 8,7 was made...we rested and again had more frenzy...we prepared
to search for the Incandescent Jewel...<><><><><>
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