==========oOo========== NEVERWINTER NEWS Issue # 124 Week Ending 3-10-96 ==========oOo========== *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* FRONT PAGE *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Everyone, be sure to read the very special announcement concerning NWN and AOLNet in the Announcement section of the paper!! ;DD <><><><><> <><><><><> Congratulations to Capybarra for winning last week's News of the Realm contest for the story "The Hold of the Vampire". Capybarra has earned the choice of 4 Pearls or Access to the GOH (Guild of Heroes). Keep up the good work! ;D <><><><><> <><><><><> WWAI Results for February '96 In First---Sequiter--63 points (25 pearls and 4 hours) In Second--Gherkin II--32 points(20 pearls +3 hours) In Third---Darkthane--24 points(15 pearls +2 hours) 5-pearl roll-off winner: Zantarian -Ulfy <><><><><> <><><><><> Location Hunt Winner 3/5 Ky II found the man lying in the corner whilst exploring the Gallant Prince. It actually took someone more than 10 seconds to find this one! Ky II wins 4 pearls & 1 hour. - Kel <><><><><> <><><><><> March Trivia Winners!!! March 5, 1996 ____________ *** First Place - Gherkin II 36 points! *** ** Second Place - SirHuma 20 points! ** * Third Place - Llewdoc 19 points! * Random Drawing Winner - Rumvorax ____________________________________________________ The winners will have the time credited to their account and pearls credited to their screen name. * First Place - 4 FREE hours and 25 Pearls * Second Place - 3 FREE hours and 20 Pearls * Third Place - 2 FREE hours and 15 Pearls * Random Drawing - 5 Pearls Congrats and thanks from NW Baldor and NW Strahd : ) <><><><><> <><><><><> Location Hunt Winner - 3/9 4PM ET I put forth the call for the hunters of the realm. I needed to find the location of this clue: "The door to the crypt opens easily stepping into the darkness, you prepare to light a torch". Many, many adventurer's thought they had the correct spot, but Jagged Guy managed to find Port LLast 1,10 before anyone else. He wins 4 pearls and one hour free online time! :D NW Sparkle <><><><><> <><><><><> *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* NEVERWINTER CALENDAR *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 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: March 12th Tuesday 9:00 PM EST - with NWA Cajun. March 13th Wednesday 10:00 PM EST - with NWA Donagh. March 16th Saturday 11:00 PM EST - with NWA Oberon. Those interested in any of these tours should keep an eye out for the banner telling where to meet! ;D <><><><><> <><><><><> (Submitted by: Sevrenn) Thieves + NW doesn't = Roleplaying A rebuttal by Sevrenn Wargcleaver: Skald of the Dragoons of the Crystal Order SwitFeet writes: >Severen has many good points. In fact, thieves do seem lacking as a Player class. They have no REAL abilites, in combat or out. You say that when thieves steal your items they in effect steal your money. This is plainly not true. Unless you hacked the item, you had to go through a series of quests, battles, or what have you to attain it. You did not pay 3 dollars an hour for the marginal utility of a set of AC 3's. You paid that money for the roleplaying element of the game. < No, in fact, the money you spent traveling the high-ways and by-ways of NW is still REAL money (whether you got something cool or not isn't the issue). The time and money you spend on NW is directly being taken from 'you' by a thief. Your logic is like saying when a thief steals my car in real life, he isn't really taking my money, he's just taking a car, ignoring all of the hard work and expenditure up to that point put into buying the car (or gaining an item for trade for that matter). On top of that, the make, model, and condition of the car has no bearing on whether Grand Theft: Auto. is a crime or not. It is. If, as you say, thieves exact a 'role-playing surcharge' this is a surcharge that is not apparent or explained to people until they are victimized. If then. So you are arguing from an inherently false point. Your roleplaying is actually harming people, this is beyond a doubt. Unlike the 'analog' versions of (A)D&D, where if I steal a piece of paper sword from your piece of paper character, no one is hurt, unless there is an ego conflict or some other problem. When you take an item by guile here, in NW, you are IN FACT, WITHOUT A DOUBT taking money from people. You have said so yourself, calling it paying for a roleplaying element. It is not. It is simple theft, for real. SwitFeet Continues: > The reason I posted the article in the NW Newspaper was to warn people how to avoid thieves. It gives them many good tips on avoiding my ilk. Most people jump headlong into trading. All their attention is dedicated to a set of Gaunts or whatever they want to trade for. They completly eliminate the roleplay aspect of trading. If in real life you were going to give someone your money that you did not know,. I assure you that you would try to size up their credibility, look and see if they were backed up by a respectable business, be sure they had the good, or whatever it takes to make you trust that person. The tips I gave seek to return the role play into Neverwinter. An aspect that has been lost in the shuffle of months and editions. If thieving is what it takes for people to look out for themselves and (god forbid) roleplay a bit. Great.< No, No, NO. The point is, that in reality, you have legal (and illegal) recourses to counter thieves, call the cops, or worse, become a vigilante. If in the pencil & paper RPG, you stole from me, if I was fast enough, I could cut you down where you stood. In NW there IS NO RECOURSE AVAILABLE to counter thieves, save to stand at the vaults and finger the scoundrels. Your roleplaying is actually costing people money, plain and simple, they may not realize it as such, but it is harmful. There aren't even assassins you could hire to knock off thieves who've crossed you ! All I ask is that thieves become responsible for their actions, and accountable, as it stands thieves are untouchable, which is keen for thieves, but unrealistic. If you are going to steal, you should risk more than your reputation. SwitFeet Goes on to say: > Servren sugests that thieves should be able to steal from Computer generated NPC's. This I have to say is completely foolish. There would be no roleplay. It would just be another series of automated choices. Thieves would quickly learn how to master the computer's Thieving Generator and then get many free items without roleplay. For thieving to be a challenge there has to be a human element. This canonly be attained at the vaults.< Wrong! That is one aspect. First of all 99% of the interaction of PCs to NPCs consists of a series of automated choices in combat with random NPCs, this is NW's stock and trade. The 'human' role-playing element is so thin as to be virtually non-existant, save maybe on the message boards, and occasional conversations player to player. The only 'real' roleplaying, according to SwitFeet is flawed by the fact that it consists of stealing items from other folks in NW at the vaults. Actions which are (as proven beyond a shadow of a doubt elsewhere) literally stealing out of the pockets of the PLAYERS, not the CHARACTERS in NW. This is where there would have to be a mode of PC to PC interaction that would allow thieving. For example, how about this? Items for trade are placed in a item pool, then both players put their items in the pool, when the item(s) are received, the players can retrieve the item(s). A thief can opt to steal the item(s) using a 'steal command'. When this happens, one of two things occur, either the thief is caught and goes into a combat screen where he must flee, or fight, or whatever. Or, the thief gets away with it and can flee normally. Whatever the outcome, the name of the thief is tagged by the game, and every month, a random percentage (10% ?) of all active thieves are 'caught and hanged' for thievery. How's that sound. This can be coupled with a series of NPC's that can be robbed for small sums and small items and a little XP. There can be some areas of the game only accessible to thieves (by climbing and lockpicking etc.) and some areas that would only be accessible by parties having thieves in them. This would allow players to steal from players, and for thieves to participate in 'party type' expeditions. It would also make thieving a risky profession, which is as it should be. As it stands now, thieves can ply their trade with little fear of retribution. As long as they stay under the protective gaze of Lord Nasher and avoid PvP areas, the worst that could happen is one of their victims can point to them and say, so and so is a thief. Big Deal. As for the Dragoon that got kicked off of AOL for harassment of a Spirit Lurker, can you blame the lurker? He DID steal an item. But at the same time that is not against the rules. It would be the same case if the thief had jumped him in the lost hills, and then lost his temper and swore. Also, if infact he was TOSsed off of AOL for harassment, this would not have been the first time he had been caught by the NW's. It is three strikes and you are out here in NW, he probably would have been TOSsed off anyway. Stealing at the vaults is totaly diferent from real stealing. Now, it may hurt your feelings if you lose your good items, but that is it. A call to the NW administrative level is useless. If they do infact curtail stealing they would in effect be doing a disservice to Neverwinter. The Spirit Lurkers thieves/spy guild would probably vanish. Roleplay at the vaults would cease to exist. Regarding any TOS or harassment charges to anyone, I have little to say about this or other charges. And frankly, I don't care. The point here is whether thieving in NW is 'ethical' using the game system as it stands. The answer is, of course, No. The problem is not the desire for roleplaying, simply that your RPGing in this form is damaging to people, this is unacceptable in a game. We pay enough for the use of AOL, we don't need to pay the thief's RPG surcharge, and have no recourse but the pathetic ability to finger 'em at the vaults. Your tips are fine for NW the way it IS, I say we need a NEW NW that doesn't allow thieves to escape scott free. Another thing, stealing at the vault IS STEALING, for the umpteenth time. Solutions to stealing- If you want some way to control stealing yet not eliminate the roleplaying element, I have a possible solution. Create a list of known thieves and post it somewhere where everyone can easily find it and print it out. It would increase the challenge for me. And would give the citizens of Neverwinter extra protection against us. We would still make out very well, only half of neverwinter ever reads the boards, but would protect the players who want to be protected. The only problem is that when I want to roleplay MY part, that is the VICTIM'S part in the crime, I'm unable to engage in ANY of the things I would do in the non-electronic game. Things like, attack you, hunt you down, call the guards, or whatever. You hide behind the shield of RP and say 'why don't people protect themselves'. I really don't think the programmers of NWN intended this to happen, it is a situation that arises from a LOOPHOLE in the rules, if this loophole was a less detrimental one, then these letters might not be being written. But the fact remains that when you take an item from me, that I spent my hard earned MONEY and time to acquire, and then I have NO real recourse to make you pay for that crime, this is an intolerable situation. It is inappropriate to have a loophole like this in a game and not plug it. Above all, NWN is about having fun, not having thieves steal with impunity, and leaving players no way to make them pay.Siege at Floodblest - Chapter 2 (Submitted by: Makmorg) The sun had started to set, making its final pass through the sky, when Saralla and I finally reached the village of Floodblest. The both of us were exhausted from our long trip-and our fights with monsters along the way-and in much need of rest and fresh supplies. Upon entering the town I was struck with a sudden unsettling feeling. There something about the area that made me feel uneasy but I couldn't quite place what it was. I looked to Saralla and knew by her appearance that she felt the same strangeness about the area. The cleric of Helm was gripping her holy symbol and whispering a prayer to herself. Beads of sweat trailed down her forehead. "The foul specter of evil hangs over this area." The cleric said without preamble. As a cleric Saralla was more attuned to evil vibrations than I was so I wasn't going to dispute her claim. Instead I looked up into the sky, which was painted in crimson and purple, extended a hand, and asked, "Should I cover my head? The black woman looked at me with mild scorn but then shook her head and walked on ahead of me. "Come on. Let's get to shelter. The Rankled Boar Inn is only a few buildings away. We can start fresh in the morning." A pale moonlight washed over the town, showing withered crops in the fields to our right and tightly shuttered buildings around us. There was no one visible on the streets. Only dust devils danced on the road. "Where are all the townsfolk?" I asked looking at the barricaded buildings. "Probably locked in their homes. You forget, most of the monster attacks occur after the sun has set. It's not safe for the townsfolk to be on the streets after dark." Looking up at the sky again, which had now taken on a deeper purple color I asked, "Shouldn't the same apply to us?" Suddenly I spied hidden movements in the shadows from an alley to our left. I turned to Saralla and gently said, "I think it best if we follow the townsfolk example and get off the streets as soon as possible." "What's a matter warrior, afraid of the dark?" Focused on the alley, I pulled out my crossbow and said, "I'm afraid that we're no longer alone." Sensing the seriousness in my voice the cleric whipped out her mace and followed my line of sight. There was movement in the alley, barely imperceptible, but there nonetheless. I unfurled my collapsible weapon and loaded a bolt. I went to move forward but Saralla restrained me with a hand to my shoulder. "Easy, Mak. There could be a child or a cat in that alley for all we know." "I thought you said the townsfolk locked themselves in at nightfall. I assume that would include their children and pets." "Most children do not have their parent's fear and stray cats are not uncommon in a farming community. If you need reassurance, however, I'll cast a detect evil spell to be sure." I kept my crossbow at the ready, staring straight at the suspicious alley, while Saralla took hold of her holy symbol. She said a prayer and in seconds her hand glowed blue with the magic of Helm. She pointed her hands at the alley but before she could cast her spell a large furry, beast suddenly exploded out of the shadows and charged straight at us. Its slavering jaws clearly communicated the monster's intent. "That's either the ugliest child or the biggest damn cat I've ever seen!" I shouted. I then quickly aimed and shot the creature, a large and savage owlbear. My first bolt slammed in the monster's shoulder but did little to slow its lumbering gallop. I racked the slide on my weapon and triggered it again and again, each bolt perforating the owlbear's hide but the monster still charged on. Damn but this owlbear was tough! Fighting back panic-the owlbear was almost up us-I went down on one knee and shot the monster two more times but to no avail. Just when I thought the beast would tear into me it suddenly stopped and dropped at my feet. It exhaled a dying breath and then ceased to move. Wiping nervous sweat from my brow I said, "Talk about a dead run." I then noticed that Saralla was no longer by my side. Glancing around I found her a few feet away locked in combat with another owlbear. The powerful cleric was using her shield to block the beast's razor sharp claws and managed to land several devastating blows with her mace. I moved to help her but suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I nimbly jumped to the side, just narrowly avoiding being gutted by another owlbear which had sneaked up behind me. I spun around and placed the tip of my weapon on the monster's thick head and shot a bolt through its skull. At point blank range my magic bolt blew a fist sized hole through the monster's head. This one wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. I heard a howl of pain and my senses were assaulted by the smell of burning flesh and fur. Looking back to Saralla I saw the cleric standing over the burning carcass of an owlbear. She had cast a fire strike spell. I thanked the gods that the cleric was my ally and quickly reloaded the wing like racks on my weapon. I then ran towards her. Seeing me first she shouted, "We need to get out of here before more owlbears arrive!" When I reached her I spotted more of the hungry behemoths slowly lumbering out from their hiding places in the alleys and from the dying fields, surrounding us completely. With my back to Saralla I said grimly, "It's already too late." I lost count of the number of monsters that began to encircle us, wicked claws and hungry fangs gleaming in the moonlight. Gripping her holy symbol tightly the cleric of Helm said, "I could slay perhaps one or two more with fire strike spells." I nodded and said, "I could take out two more with my bolts before they reach us." We then looked at each other-we both knew what the inevitable outcome of this fight would be-gripped each other's shoulders, and braced ourselves for the impending attack. The growling beasts appeared to be in no rush to finish us off and approached us very cautiously. There was no place for us to escape to and the surviving predators did not want to end up like their impatient slain brethren. Time seem to stand still for a second-Saralla and I were prepared to fight to the end then a voice cut through the air, uttering the words that every adventurer in the region instantly recognized. "Need help?" A lighting bolt crackled through the air and ravaged the group of owlbears on our left, instantly killing several of the great beasts and sent the others running. The group of monsters behind us was suddenly peppered with arrows and the savage creatures scattered to avoid the stinging shafts. The ranks of owlbears to our right was being torn into by a sword wielding individual who slashed beast after beast like a madman. Saralla and I wasted no time in taking advantage of Tymora's sudden blessings. The cleric shouted, "By Helm have at thee!", and scorched an owlbear in front of us with a fire strike spell. The owlbear screamed in pain and it's burning form took off like a fireball. I shot bolt after bolt into the remaining carnivorous beasts before us, driving the monsters back. Another lightning bolt lighted the night and another group of beasts was destroyed by the magical blast. I spotted the spellcaster to my right, a dark-haired female elf dressed in wizard robes. She looked at me, smiled and then continued her magical assault on the monsters unleashing a fireball at another group of owlbears. The fireball exploded into the mass of monsters leaving nothing behind but smoking bones. Fortunately none of the structures were damaged in the blast. I fired off my last bolt and then knelt down to reload my weapon. Saralla had rushed off, bloodied mace in hand, to attack the disoriented beasts. An owlbear spotted me on the ground-it probably saw easy prey-and headed towards me. Years of practice had taught me to reload the wing like tracks on my crossbow quickly but this beast was moving faster than I could load the bolts. I cursed the fates and whipped out a throwing dagger. My aim was true, the dagger piercing the beast's eye, but the howling monster still advanced. I cursed again and raised my partially loaded crossbow to defend myself. Just then a curly haired halfling, armed with a short bow, suddenly appeared at my side. He launched a flurry of arrows at the owlbear forcing it to flee. "Looks like that owlbear almost had you there friend?" The curly haired halfling said. Reloading my weapon I replied, "Luckily I was given half the chance." With my weapon ready I stood and fired at any owlbear left alive. The halfling followed my lead and together we brought down several more beasts, their bodies riddled with arrows and bolts. Looking for other monsters I saw the sword wielding warrior from earlier running towards us. His weapon and body was covered in gore and blood but a bright smile was shining through the night. "Hail, warrior!," He said in a robust voice. "Where is your friend?" I looked around for the cleric and spotted her a few paces away finishing off a bloodied owlbear with a mace blow. Several monster corpses, some charred, others battered, surrounded her. Saralla was in no danger whatsoever. I looked back to the dashing warrior, whose long hair was matted with sweat and blood, and said, "Oh, she's just hammering out some details." I quickly added, "Don't even think of helping her. Trust me on that one." The swordsman laughed heartily at my comment. Suddenly an owlbear lunged at him from behind. Recognizing the look of warning that crossed my face the warrior spun around quickly and easily lopped of the beast's head in one stroke. He then turned back to the halfling and I and continued talking as if nothing just happened. "I hope that's the last of them." He said, a smile still painted on his face. Surveying the area, I saw that most of the owlbears were either dead, dying, or had fled. Saralla had finished off her opponent and was making her way towards us. The battle was indeed over. "By the looks of it we're done here." I concluded. "These beasts must have been early risers." It was the elf, just joining our group, who spoke. She was putting away spell components in her belt pouches. "Why do you say that?" Saralla asked finally reaching the group. The mahogany skinned cleric was visibly exhausted from the fight and her lack of rest. He breathing was heavy and her movements were unsteady yet the powerful cleric remained standing. "The owlbears usually don't come out until later in the evening." The halfling said in response to her question. "I guess these beasts wanted first choice for dinner." I smiled warmly at the trio and said, "Thank you for your assistance. My name is Mak and this is Saralla of the Temple of Helm." "Well met friends." Said the swordsman. He was a head shorter than me but powerfully built. Long black curly hair draped his shoulders and he never seemed to stop smiling. "My name is Rodrigo." "The spellcaster is Kayla and my halfling friend here goes by the name Kwarrel." With a wink Rodrigo added, "Don't let his name fool you, he's a real nice person, for a halfling that is." The halfling flashed a mock frown at Rodrigo but then smiled. "I prefer to be called Kwarrel, thief extraordinare." In whisper he added, "Of course not to loudly in some towns." Curly locks of black hair topped his head and boyish features emphasized his friendly nature. "You can see the magnificent company I keep." Kayla shot a playful look at her two male companions. Their miffed looks quickly gave way to laughter. The elven spell caster, like her two friends, had black hair but it was straight and she wore it long. Her slender face held small almost pouting features and she had the typical pointed ears of her race. Kayla joined her friends in their mirth and Saralla and I couldn't help but laughing ourselves. I liked these adventurers. The moment of merriment passed and the elf asked, "Are here on Lord Nasher's behalf like the rest of us?" "Indeed." Saralla said. "We hope to find out the reasons behind the rash of monster attacks in the area as well as the cause for the mysterious illness afflicting so many here." "Ah, you serve the cause of good. So do we!" Said Rodrigo gleefully. "Not to mention hoping to come across any possible treasure in the area." Added the halfling. Ignoring Kwarrel's comment Rodrigo continued. "You know I think we work well together. We should adventure as one while we try to solve this mystery and save these townsfolk." Saralla looked at me with a smile and said, "Hmmm, where have I heard this before?" I shrugged my shoulders and returned the cleric's smile. I turned the trio and said, "We can discuss that over an ale and dinner. Let's get to the inn. I've had enough of beasts adding me to their evening repast." "You're right about that," agreed Kayla. We gathered our gear and left the scene of carnage behind us. Looking at monster corpses on the ground the curly haired halfling said, "It must have been precarious for a moment there surrounding by all these owlbears." I looked down at the cherubic thief and with a smile said, "Yeah, you can't imagine how unbearable it felt." Everyone in the group groaned. To be continued...Drow Child, Part 1 Foetus Dreams (Submitted by: Cyanabela) Spinning slowly through time and space thought paces the soothing sound of a mother's heartbeat. "ME ME ME ME ME mE me... ussa uSSa USSA USSA USSA......." Rotates gently and nudges another... thing... "WHO WHO WhO whO... vel'uss vel'USS VEL'USS VEL'USS......." "DALNINIL DALNIN'L DA'NIN'L D'NIL D'NIL... beloved sister....." Small hands intertwined, the d'nilen float ... and nudge yet another... thing... "DALNINUK DALNINUK DA'NIN'K D'NUK D'NUK... little brother....." Birth song filters through three innocent, unformed minds ...Llar abbilen udos tluar xuil naubol tu'fyr udossa*... Cyanabela d' Dur'Eben Llarnbuss Dalharil d' Dur'Eben TOL *Three allies we be, (let) none come between usThe Return (Submitted by: Wraith KM) As I sit in the corner and scan the tavern, a sense of sicking joy arises amoung the people surrounding me. I hear laughter bellowing from a small fat man in the corner, a happy giggle from a waitress. I am alone in this world since death, always searching something that isn't there some end to this ongoing quest for lifeforce, seemingly it doesnt end. I sneak out of the tavern as easyily as i snuck in, climbing onto my steed as I spur him to head on down the road always in the shadows of the night.. Until night, I was riding alone the neverwinter river when in the distance i spotted a caravan of merchants escroted by a man on a white steed wearing a white outfit, with a red templer cross upon his his chest. "Could it be, No the Order of The Sacred Dagger have been dead since the battle of Three peaks, then the men of The Great Pit Destroyed them" I say to myself.. I Gallop to a tree line next to the road to get a closer look oh him, sure enough as clear as midnight i could see the golden hilt upon his Long Sword, Wrapped in a black leather... "I must find out where he came form surely theres more.!!" I say as i jump on my steed and head for neverwinter.. As I approach neverwinter I immediately duck into the stables and rush to the secret door in the stable floor, which drops down into the Pit of Hell.. I rush TO me lord PrimeDevil, "Sire, a Man of The Sacred Dagger Approaches Neverwinter with a caravan of Merchants from Meridian.." "Did you say Sacred Dagger?" he replies. "Aye Sire, almost a half a days ride away, What shall we do" "Capture this fool of a dead order and bring him to me.." With that the Balrogs of Satan Jump up, And Prepare for To head into Neverwinter, "WraithKM approach me.." "Yes Sire, Your bidding" "You take hades with you and capture him while he sleeps in the Inn.. Do not harm him for if you do i shall have your Head.." "Aye Sire, I shall not harm him" With that an evil grin comes across my face, as me and hades prepare for a long Night.. WraithKm To Be Cont. in The Return 2The Highwayman (submitted by: Tazz G) Part One Thew wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees. The moon was a ghostly galleon tosses upon cloudy seas. The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, And the highwayman came riding--riding-riding- The highway man came riding, up to the old inn door. He'd a feather cock-hat on his forhead, a bunch of lace at his chin, A coat of claret velvet, and breeches of brown doeskin. They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh. And he rode with a jeweled twinkle, His rapier a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky. Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark innyard. He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred. He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there, But the landlords black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter, Plaiting a dark red love knot into her long black hair. And dark in the dark old innyard a stable wicket creaked, Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked. His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like modly hay, But he loved the landlord' daughter, The landlord's red-lipped daughter. Dumb as a dog he listen, and he heard the robber say- "One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light; Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, Then look for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way." He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand, But he loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand. As the black cascade of perume came tumbling over his breast; And he kissed its waves in the moonlight, O, sweet black waves in the moonlight! Then he tugged his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west. Part Two He did not come in the dawning. He did not come at noon; And out the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon, When the road was a traveler's ribbon, looping the purple moor, A trooper came marching-marching-marching- The troopers came marching, up to the old inn door. They said no word to the landlord. They drank his ale instead. But they gagged his daughter, and bound her, to the foot of her narrow bed. Two of them knelt at her casement, with swords at their side! There was death at every window; For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride. They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest. They had bound a crossbow beeside her, with the arrow beneath her breast! "Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the doomed man say- "Look for me by moonlight; Watch for me by moonlight; I'll come to thee by moonlight, though all should bar my way!" She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good! She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat! They stretch and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years, Till, now, on the stroke of midnight, cold, on the stoke of midnight, The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger to the crossbow was hers! The tip of of one finger touched it. She strove no more for rest. Up, she stood to attention, with the arrow beneath her breast. She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again; For the road lat bare in the moonlight; Blank and bare in the moonlight; And the blood of her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain. Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horsehoofs ringing clear; Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear? Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill, The highwayman came riding-riding-riding- The troopers looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still. Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night! Nearer he came and nearer. Her face was like a light. Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath, Then her finger moved in the moonlight, Her crossbow shattered the moonlight, Shattered her body in the moonlight and warned him-with her death. He turned. He spurred to the west; he did not know who stood, Bowed, with her head, drenched with her own blood. Not till dawn he heard it, and his face grew gray to hear, How Bess, the landlord's daughter, The landlord's black eyed daughter, Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there. Back he spurred like a madman, shouting curses to the sky, With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier, brandished high. Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat; When they shot him down on the highway, down like a dog on the highway, And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat. ................................................................................................................................. And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, A highwayman comes riding- riding-riding- A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn door. Zaknafe Drow Mercenary - 'Inquiry of Death' (submitted by Salvat0re) The days after accepting the offer of weapons master for the thieves guild in Southwall, I spent 2 hrs a day studying the languages and 4hrs on training the thieves. On this day two weeks after my meeting with Lordan, he had me fetched to speak with him again. I walked the long corridors until I reached the door to his room but before knocking to go in I heard voices. These voices I did not recognize with the exception of Lordans. The door was not locked so I opened it enough to listen in on the conversation. I peeked in and seen an odd looking guy wearing a purplish robe with short sleeves and on his right shoulder bore a tattoo of a purple squid. "Bol" I mumbled to myself.. I had seen a man earlier by Lord Nashers castle with the same tattoo. What I heard of the conversation was bits and pieces, they spoke of a badge that would give access to Neverwinter sewers, and of a way to reach some islands off the coast. I closed the door and then began knocking, after a short moment Lordan said "come in" When I entered I looked around the room and noticed that no one but Lordan an I where in the room. 'The other two must have left through a secret passage that is within Lordans room' I thought to myself. "You sent for me?" I asked "Yes, I am once again in need of your service" Lordan spoke "Of what service do you need of me this time?" I replied in question "I have been inquired to seek out a mage whom is staying in Triboar and kill him. However I am preoccupied with other endeavors and I'm unable to do this myself." Lordan explained. "Who has 'inquired' you?" I asked curious as to who was in the room with him, for I knew it was they who did the inquiring. "That .. is not your concern, do you wish to take this task or not?" a surprising response from him, for whatever reason he did not wish me to know but I continued to pry for an answer. "Oh but it is my concern when payment is to made by whom made the inquiry" "They have offered 10 jewels as payment for the death of this mage, in which has been paid to me already and you will receive the payment from me.. when the killing has been done." was Lordans response. "Very well, then I accept" Lordan marked my map of Triboar where the mage had been last spotted by our contacts and explained that the mage was easily recognizable by a scar he bore on his right cheek. I would have to travel through Vilnask to Crossergate from there I would have to travel through the Lost Hills to reach Triboar. The journey would be difficult, specially getting through what I would call 'The Mages Battleground' the Lost Hills. Many dangerous beasts make there home there and guilds good and evil aligned do battle there. It will be difficult to avoid a confrontation with either. The thrill of the hunt, the thrill of battle, the thrill of the kill. This mage will die the worst death possible, he will die by a Drow's Blade!! I raised my Scimitar to the ceiling and yelled my favorite Drow saying "Jivvin quui'elghinn!!!".........'Torture till Death'............I then began to prepare for my journey.....Earl Graye's Bachelor Party (submitted by MeenMan) As a soft orange glow deepens into a breathtaking sunrise, A tired and foot sore legionaire enters the gates to the Border Legion Keep. He had fled the Keep days earlier at the first signs of trouble between his Captain and friend the honorable Earl Graye and the proud wild creature that is his sister and a Red Dragon. Never one to fear a good licking in the pursuit of an adventure, the small inventor had run from the wild emotional energies being generated by the pair. Yet time had run out, the bachelor party was to be held that evening and the little man had to prepare. His first stop was the kitchen and to his surprise the cooks were already in full swing. The smells of roasting boar and fresh baked bread reminded the little man that in his cowardice he had not packed enough food for his flight. Rounding up a hearty breakfast was not difficult amid the activity. As he sat stuffing his face with greasy bacon, fresh bread and cheese the lord of the keep came hustling through. "Ah MeenMan, you have returned it is good to see you back" greeted Lord Vex, a small understanding smile hiding at the edges of his lips and in his eyes. "In your absence I thought it best to begin the party preparation myself. I have ordered the food and spirits and all will be in readiness for the party this evening." The reply from the legionnaire with his mouth crammed with food was forestalled by a small wave of the Lord's arm. "Yes my friend I know you are thankful and that you will pay me back on Tuesday." Laughing, Lord Vex begins to walk away but turns back, "I understand you have made arrangements for entertainment this evening?" With crumbs flying the inventor can only nod his head enthusiastically. Lord Vex continues on to finish the preparations. As the sun continues in its path up and over the Keep, activity within picks up. The soon to be married Earl spends time in his office sipping tea from his magical mug and pretending that he is contemplating the role and duties of an ambassador while in fact he daydreams about his wife to be and their future together. Nobody is fooled. The paradoxical Dbcross spends his day shuffling through the manuscripts that are the responsibility of the chronicler and playing out possible endings to his soon to be implemented mug switch. Lord Vex continues orchestrating the logistics for the upcoming party. The MeenMan moves slot machines that he has built into the main hall from his workroom in the basement and decorates the hall itself. While taking a break he reads a message from the woman who has agreed to dance this evening. The note is handwritten in flowing cursive letters, just holding the note the little legionnaire is overwhelmed by the leashed power and sensuality of the writer: "All is prepared, will see you at midnight." The note is signed with a simple W. Legionnaires straggle into the keep all afternoon and begin to prepare themselves for the evening. The time for the party draws near. The Earl Graye has retreated to his quarters to prepare. Most of the legionnaires have already gotten themselves cleaned up and have started sharing a couple mugs of "warm up" brew. In a final fit of preparation The MeenMan enters the Earl's office and collects the Earl's mug. He places it next to the bar so that it will be close at hand when the Earl is ready for it. As the MeenMan leaves the hall a shadow separates itself from a dark corner. The dark cloaked character approaches the bar and quickly switches the Earl's magical mug for an almost exact replica. As he exits the room Dbcross chuckles to himself and wonders what great stories and jokes will come of the Earls use of the CURSED MUG OF ENDLESS INTOXICATION AND INHIBITED INHIBITIONS. As daylight fades into dusk the sounds of a party begin within the Border Legion Keep. For those legionnaires that have spent days and weeks on the road the official start of the party is just too late. Groups of legionnaires have congregated around the freshly broached kegs and attempt to out drink each other in huge swallows punctuated by statements of pure fiction and general bragging. The sounds are cut off in an instant as a man with skin the color and sheen of obsidian, shoulder length green hair and wearing full plate of some metal that shines with an emerald hue enters the hall No trumpets introduce this man, no courtiers call attention to his presence, but all have felt his entrance into the room. In response to the silence and tension Johan (wearing new sun glasses) hurries into the room and approaches the new guest. "Hail Shatter, proudest of the Dragons, how goes it?" "Fine, Lord of the Humans, I have come to partake in the festivities and protect the Red Dragons Property" so saying the emerald dragon reaches into his pocket and withdraws a hand full of glowing stones. "What might those stones be, Shatter?" inquires the Earl. "As you well know my feelings towards this mixed marriage I will not dwell on them here, but being resigned to what will be I will do what I may to ensure the Red's future happiness. I have brought these glow stones so that all torches in the hall might be extinguished. A man, any man, can only endure so much heat and fire in his lifetime and in that I believe you will quickly exceed your tolerance I have brought these," holds up stones, "to reduce your exposure this evening." The emerald dragon in man form moves off and begins snuffing torches with a wave of his hand and then replacing each torch with a stone. Each stone glows brighter until it casts slightly more light than the torch it replaced. A faint cough interrupts the dragon's progress. A small man wearing a bright purple dunce cap has silently approached and now stands politely behind the emerald dragon. "Er, excuse me Sir Shatter bu...bu..but why have you worn full armor to a party?" The dragon turns and smiles patiently at the little inventor and says "Although I am more than you can see you see me as I am, I change nothing of myself to conform to the petty requirements of humanity." The dragon walks away laughing as the confused little man stands and rubs his chin. People of all types begin arriving at the party, there are artists and craftsmen, townspeople and sailors all of the people whom the Earl has been able to help at one time or another in his travels. Yet for all the crowd the true adventurerers stand out. They move with a style (ignoring a couple of stumbles) and confidence not seen in any of the locals. The ringing bells and flashing lights of the MeenMan's slots add to the general clatter. The mechanical sounds of the slot machines as they collect and pay out gold pieces generate a background noise at the level of a dull roar. The sound level of noise is further increased by the beat and throb of the magic music machine in the corner. People mill about in chaos as groups of men split and reform as conversions die and are reborn. In one corner Lord Vex, Reklaive and Johan (who had not yet started drinking) discuss recent women problems. A little ways closer to the Keg, Dbcross and Sir Trapp discussed the pros and cons of how to set up a good feeb. The enchanted women that had arrived at the party with DB circulated throughout gently teasing the drunken crowd. A major commotion errupts at the entrance to the Hall. The Emerald Dragon in all his glory and wraith stands at the door, hand on sword, and blocks the entrance of a minor noble decked out in a red outfit. "Halt puny mortal, those colors shall not be allowed here. This is a gathering of men at their worst and Mel's colors shall not be tarnished here." A threatening glare from the dragon cuts off any protest. The noble man turns and quickly shuffles out of the hall. Danger averted the level of noise quickly returns to its previous level only to be shattered again as the green dragon speaks, "Lord Vex, Earl Graye" the dragon's magically enhanced voice booms across the hall. "I would like to present GoldFire, Blue High Lord of the Council of Wyrms." Silence rolls across the hall as if all other sounds had been chased away by the dragon's announcement. At the entrance a man steps through. What he looks like nobody is exactly sure. It is almost impossible to look directly at him. For those that stare it is impossible to separate the image of a majestic sapphire blue dragon from that of the man. With all the bearing of a king, GoldFire walks across the hall and bows to the trio of Vex, Reklaive and Johan. The lord of the keep is the first to speak, "Welcome to the Keep of the Border Legion, and enjoy this party in honor of our brother." GoldFires' bow is returned by Lord Vex. Reklaive hugs his compatriot and the conversation around the party resumes. Again the party flows like an amoeba, jovial people move from one group to another drinking telling stories and eating whatever is at hand. Off in a corner The MeenMan arm wrestles Ihsfolower. The big burly ranger pretends to strain as he allows the little inventor to almost win and then reverses momentum and pins the inventor's scrawny arm to the table. Amid much laughter Dbcross takes the inventor's place and begins to wrestle the large ranger. This time it is a true struggle as both competitors strain to win. After a minute Dbcross jumps back and gives his wrist a little twist sending Ihsfolower sprawling to the floor. Although everybody laughs, Sir Trapp, who had been standing nearby would swear that he saw horns grow on DB's head just before the toss. The smile on Dbcross' face is a complex mixture of mirth and aggression. Lord Vex stands up on a table and yells to the crowd "My friends it is time for this party to really get started. Bring the Earl His mug." Dbcross hustles across the floor and fetches the mug. His face is locked in the same expression he had shown at the end of the arm wrestling. The Earl takes his mug and a change sweeps across the party like a strong wind across the surface of a still pond. The pace of alcohol consumption increases 3 fold led by the usually controlled Earl. Men begin to sign and dance. The room begins to hum with the building excitement. A congo line forms led by the now laughing Earl. All of the tables in the center of the hall are broken and the splintered parts are tossed into the usually placid fire at the end of the hall. The flames roar as the conga line of wildly dancing men pass in front. In disgust Shatter moves off into a corner to watch. The smells of the drunken men are beginning to make him sick anyway. Reklaive deciding to humor the silly humans joins the line. GoldFire takes the opportunity to snap the spell enchanting one of DBs female guests and employs the simple magic of a quick wit and sense of humor to entrance her into making a quick exit with him. The party degenerates into a wild mob, men drinking from old boots (some still with socks in them). Men running around with women's undergarments on their heads as trophies of past conquests. In one corner a group of legionnaires are breaking boards with their foreheads and laughing uproariously when someone knocks himself out. Even Lord Vex is caught up in the swing of things as he watches a laughing DB and Ihsfolower play keep away with a big pointy purple cap. His amusement vanishes as Dbcross breaks towards him screaming at the MeenMan; "I think I will put this stupid cap down the outhouse!". Lord Vex extends his arm catching DB by the arm and speaks in a threatening whisper only DB can hear "Your humor pushes beyond good taste ,sir,give your fellow his cap." Chastised DB turns and gives the upset little inventor his cap then slowly makes his way through the crowd towards another exit in the back of the room. On looking at the intoxicated Earl a humorous smile grows on Ihsfolower's face. He steps up on one of the remaining tables and explains about a great tradition from his youth. The tradition is simple on the night before a wedding a great race is held and the winner of that race is crowned king of the forest. Folower's speech is very persuasive and soon a group lead by a determined Earl are at the starting line. "On your mark," shouts Follower, "Get Set, wait a minute I forgot to tell you everybody has to run in their underwear." With much laughing and jest everybody on the line strips to skivvies and gets ready to run. Ihsfollower simply yells "GO". The Earl breaks from the pack with MeenMan in his accustomed place right behind him. It does not take long for MeenMan to realize that nobody else is with them, The Earl never realizes they are alone because he is trying not to spill his drink. The pace is fairly slow seeing as that both participants are pretty well toasted. In the lead a robust Earl treads the road dressed in nothing but sandals and boxers with one big heart on the rear side. Two steps behind follows the little man wearing a purple hat, boxers decorated with little snugly teddy bears and doggy slippers. They follow the predetermined route with great tenacity and as they loop around Lord Nasher's Castle they turn and head back for the keep. A slight scuffle breaks out as the Earl is forced to dodge some of Nasher's guards, but the guards fall back laughing as they realize this is the Earl who is about to be wed. Behind the Earl the little guy in the purple hat begins to blow kisses at the gathering crowd. The two glorious competitors finally stumble across the finish line where they are handed fresh drinks. The tired Earl stumbles to a bench and sits down. An unrepentant Dbcross soon joins him. DB quickly guides the conversation to talk of past women that they have each known. He then proceeds to an in depth analysis of the problems of developing a relationship with a dragon. The embarrassed Earl does not now how to respond but his jovial drunk is slowly giving way to anger. The rude conversation is finally interrupted by Shatter. The dragon grabs the cursed mug and smashes it on the table. The impact on the Earl is immediate from roaring drunk to stone cold sober in 1 second. "Foolish mortals" bellows the dragon "Could ye not smell the evil enchantment on thy false mug. Thy silly human games are fine if ye want to embarrass yourselves but seek not to cast any disrespect on the Red Dragon". Before the Earl can respond the dragon has exited the room. Sometime during the confusion DB has also made good his escape. A collective sigh escapes from the party mob and the once frantic pass begins to wind down. Sensing the impending implosion of the party, Lord Vex signals the MeenMan to start the official entertainment. The lights dim (thanks Shatter) and a brief explosion draws all attention to the center of the room. A women has appeared , a most beautiful woman. She is dressed in a series of flowing white veils and as she begins to dance small portions of flesh are exposed. It is the ultimate in seduction never showing, always suggesting, always leaving more to the imagination than reality could possibly hold. Her movements are graceful, she flows from one side of the hall to another, a gentle touch here. A brush on the arm there, by the time she returns to the center of the hall all eyes are locked upon her. All except the Earl, whose mind is racing through the events of the evening, after a quick inventory he decides that he has done nothing but embarrass himself an activity his sense of humor can easily accept. He has not always been distinguished and respected lord, he had been young once too. Upon deciding that his conscience was clear he casts a glance at the dancer. She is gorgeous no doubt but why should he oogle hamburger when he planned to marry prime rib on the morrow. Looking around the hall he spies MeenMan not watching the dancer but instead has focused on the slot machines. A warning prickle runs down the Earl's spine. He walks over and grabs the little inventor "MeenMan can we talk?" he says as he leads the way from the party to his office. Once in his office he finds a fresh pot of tea and his real mug (is this DB's first sign of remorse) He seats himself and looks at the now sheepish legionnaire. "Ok MeenMan, are those machines that you built fair?" "Well ah.... ah Well ya see, they are as fair as any machine in Vegas, Milord" The Earl frowns and MeenMan quickly continues "er well ...they might also have a greed enhancement spell cast over them" he confesses in a rush. But the crafty inventor seeing an out for himself continues "I was going to give it all to charity, milord." Now the Earl, being of above average intelligence, realizes what his friend is trying to pull but since tomorrow is his wedding and the scoundrel is the best man he can go easy on him. "Ok, see that every penny ......" He never gets to finish the sentence as a series of explosions and the smell of burnt ozone wash through the keep. After the Earl and the slightly crooked inventor had left the dancer had picked up the pace of her show. She moved in and out of the crowd weaving a web of enchantment that no one could resist. Finally she came to Reklaive, lord of the dragons. She danced for him in a sensuous yet mocking way. The Dragon found himself drawn out of his chair and towards the seductress. As he got closer he looked into her eyes and in a spark of recognition he knew. This women was ITB WICKED. But it was too late. With a laugh more girlish than women she cast her first spell. As the lightening bolt hits the slot machines they exploded in a shower of gold. She then proceeded to pepper the hall with fire and electricity doing much more damage to the room than the people. (This was meant as a joke after all.) An angry growl escapes those party goers still standing but before they can respond she turns herself invisible and calmly strolls out of the hall, laughing all the way. The party is officially over. An angry Lord Vex tosses all the remaining party goers into rooms where they can sleep things off. After this catastrophe he would not consider letting anyone loose on society while inebriated. "MeenMan" he shouts "what have you let into our house? I know you meant, well but in that you and DB are responsible for this mess and you two will clean it up! I better not see either of you until this room is restored to order" The little inventor never hears him. He is scrabbling along the ground nearly in tears. The gold from the slot machines is gone, every last piece. He sits back and whispers "Who, who took all the gold?"The Ballad of Skaald (submitted by ERS Samson) I post this now in the hopes of bringing a smile to some saddened faces... SKAALD THE STRONG Oh once there was a mighty kobold, five feet tall was he! He fought a thousand orcs alone, and forced them all to flee. Skaald the strong he was called with awe. He inspired fierceness in all he saw. He had courage o'erpowering - his strength unsurpassed. And those who followed where he led, always laughed last. But as the moon gives way to sun, and dark of night turn bright, Skaald the strong went to the gods one battle-ridden night. A dull moon shone, Skaald's helm did gleam As he led his troop of fierce soldiers, tougher than they seemed. But giants were there, in ambush they lay In wait of Skaald's parade. Skaald's band faced odds of fifty to one Things were grim indeed! 10,000 giants 200 kobolds - not fair! 200 more did Skaald need. The fight went on all through the night, and deep into the day. And when 'twas over three kobolds and fifty giants got away. The fight would have gone on 'til death, but neither group knew The other was alive, they battled on a hill. The fifty giants survived the north - the kobolds held the south. And when all was over, both groups won - Or so said word of mouth. But it mattered not, for Skaald fell in the doom. And the three survivors for him built a deeply hidden tomb. And to this day Skaald's tomb lay closed, His treasure undisturbed. For no one dare open the door, lest Skaald become perturbed! ~FIN~ Hope it brings some a chuckle or two... As always singing our praises, ERS Frodal. Mystra's Bidding #2 (submitted by Elminstor) It was the middle of the day and the town had reached an apex with the hustle and bustle of trading merchants. Many of the local town folk took it upon themselves to look for new comers needing supplies, food, and information. Neverwinter seemed to be growing faster than it ever had. It was getting to where Lord Nasher had to ask his personal guards to be on duty, even when it wasn't time for their watch. The day was a slow day and the sun was taking her time settling down in the west. Soon, the uneasiness of the townfolk started showing up in bizarre ways. Simabus, the vault merchant, had grown tired of answering the same questions shouted at him all day long. "Any shields?", "Looking for Gauntlets of Ogre Power, do you have?", "I have weapons, will trade for armor." Before his patience could react, he reached out and smacked a young lad across the cheek. "Does that answer your ignorant and foolish question?!?" words and actions the merchant would soon have to apologize for. On the other side of town a temple preist stood in front of a shrine to Tyr. On his knees and lifting his arms toward the sky he was speaking an unknown tounge. He had begun his afternoon meditations and prayers to Tyr when he was rudely interupted. He probally wouldn't have been bothered when the feebleminded man walk in, but the stupid man walked right over to him and started pecking him on the shoulder. "Uhh... helwo." the man mumble the only word he could remember. When he got up from the altar and turned to look around at the feebleminded man, catching the corner of his eye over the man's shoulder he saw his mace in the corner of the room. He thought to himself, "Hmm. He'll never think twice if I tell him I have to plant my mace deep in his skull to remove the affects of the spell." The cleric hadn't thought like that in years. ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** There was an older looking man with a gray braided beard smoking a pipe as he walked through the streets of the town. He could see it coming again ahead of him a younger lad was walking a brisk gait. This would be the forth time today the old sage would be knocked on his caboodle. "Whoa there lad!" exclaimed Elminstor. "What's the hurry, lad?" Obviously the sounds of someone raising their voice in the town at this hour would not avail much. So, the mage stepped aside to let the young man charge by, but was side swiped from behind as a young lass plowed down the old sage. "Dung heaps!" exasperated the mage as he was falling to put another bruise upon his buttock. "What's wrong with this blasted town?" he wondered as he dusted off his robes. He softly spoke a few words and dropped some white powder on the ground causing a small puff of smoke to appear where he once stood. It didn't take El long to reach the top of the stairs in his tower. He took a deep breath and found his favorite chair to sit in as he welcomed his friends ... solitude and peace. A flash of white light filled the room and a beautiful lady walked out from amoung it. "Hello, Elminstor." said the goddess of magic. "I can see that you've got things under control here in Shadowdale" she paused to look around the room and then back into the eyes of her loyal subject. "and, how is Neverwinter these days?" He explained the vigor and zeal of young warriors and wizards and how an old man could get hurt walking down the streets. The room was soon filled with mirth as both of them realized they too still had a touch of youth in their ways. Elminstor opened a bottle of wine for him and the lady. "'Tis truely good to see you again, my lady." he softly spoke. "But, I know you haven't come just to say your hello." raising his eyebrow when he emphasized the word, just. "What is thy bidding?" a silence filled the room as he stopped to await his next venture. Mystra did not speak a word, but her thoughts flooded into the sage. A short nod and a wink to the lady was all El could get in before she slightly kissed his cheek and disappeard with the same white flash that brought her here.River Songs (submitted by Bro Rivers) I watched the river swirl its water in currents of undescribable power. I reflected back on the day my father an I went walking along these same banks my eyes beheld. He explained to me how how I was named. So, I have written a song for you my brothers and sisters about the origin of my name. ::Clears throat:: ::Strums chord and hums to find the right vocal chord tension:: They decided to take a walk On the banks of a river they began to talk Father and son took strides in unity One in the other 'twould always be. The father said, "Stop. And let us sit." A glare in the eyes of the child lit And the sound of the river began to sing In the ears of the child, it began to ring. ::Majestic Chord introduces the River song Chorus: ::The chord rings true and seems to say ... :: Through the ages I have flowed over mountains and through the valleys. From the beginning I brought you life making my water your blood to fill your veins. ::An anthem meldody begins:: I bring drinking water to your lands A place for you to wash your hands. Many o' men has mistaken By my mighty arm they have been taken. Watch me now and learn my ways In the wisdom gained from endless days. ::Music leads back into the verse:: The father did the best that he could To see what the child had understood. He could see where his son belonged. For in the twinkle of his eye rang a song. Amoung the two no words were spoken Only a connecting bond would be their token. The father walked off that day Leaving the child there to stay. ::Majestic Chord introduces the River song Chorus: ::The chord rings true and seems to say ... :: Through the ages I have flowed over mountains and through the valleys. From the beginning I brought you life making my water your blood to fill your veins. ::An anthem meldody begins:: I bring drinking water to your lands A place for you to wash your hands. Many o' men has mistaken By my mighty arm they have been taken. Watch me now and learn my ways In the wisdom gained from endless days. ::Music softens for words spoken:: ::Speaks deeply with soft rhymes:: If you have a chance today Walk beside the river way Sit down on the bank and wait For the river song to lead you away. ::Music fades with majestic chord:: The Lifegiver Quest (submitted by Riklaun) Riklaun and Brisid entered Red larch. Riklaun went to the archery store while Brisid went to get the last bit of training he required to become a bladesinger. He purchased two fine long bows for himself and Brisid. He took the two bows and left six large jewels with the storekeeper. Riklaun went over to the inn to rest a bit and prepare for the quest at hand. As he entered he saw Starrbolt playing a game of Kholiast with Lerblumoon. LerBlumoon finished her turn with a gleem in her eyes. "I win. I finally beat you." She stood and greeted Riklaun. Starrbolt looked perplexed. 'Had he taught her that well?' he thought. 'No matter though. she is good, Not just with cards, but with her skills as well. She may yet become a fine bladesinger.' Starrbolt stood and walked over to Riklaun. "Quel re Riklaun. Maegovennen." He said. "Vedui, Starrbolt. I am glad you could make it." Riklaun said. I have heard that Lloth will try to stop us from completing the quest. I was confronted by Sylvaria, a drow preistess the other day. She boasted of her power and said we should stop this foolish quest for the Orb. Her minions would make sure that we did not reach our goal. I fumed with contempt. I attempted to engage her in battle but she just went invisible and said: Till Friday Albino..." "I have heard of this one. She is bad news. She tried to attack a small elven villiage on the outskirts of Grey Company's boundrys. She was stopped before she could do much damage, but we still lost several good elves to that skirmish. I fear that the drow are testing our defenences for weaknesses. I believe they may attempt to attack the core of the Grey Company soon." Starrbolt said. "We must be extra cautious." Brisid entered the inn feeling much more confident about his abilities. He had become a full Bladesinger. He only needed to test his mettle in (pvp) combat. But that would be later. Right now, more important buisness was at hand. They had to recover the orb and the staff so the Lifegiver could be repaired. The four of them set off following the trail to the underdark. The Orb was said to be kept down there in a small room guarded by beholders. As they ventured out into the woods surrounding the town, an eerie silence began. The birds did not chirp anymore, the squirrills no longer chittered. They were not very far from the gates of the town and were skirting along the walls of the town when a shrill voice came from the town. "Dragons!!!!" it yelled. The four elves looked skyward. The dragons were heading for the town. Brisid spoke up. "If they attack the town, it will be decimated." Brisid removed his bow from his back. "Let's take this fight into the woods to spare the town." He raised his bow and aimed at the nearest red dragon. He let loose two arrows towards it. The Dragon roared as the arrows sunk home. He turned in the air and flew down to the elves standing in the clearing. Riklaun and Starrbolt dodged to the side of the clearing. Brisid grabbed two more arrows. Lerblumoon began casting a spell. She pointed at the red on the ground but then looked up at the 3 others heading her way. She instantly switched targets and let loose the Braggolach Tel'llach. The three dragons seperated and landed, their wings scorched. Brisid let loose with two more arrows at the red in front of him. The dragon turned and breathed. The arrows were incinerated in flight. brisid picked up his shield and his behind it. The flames licked the shield. When the barrage ended, Brisid cast a hold spell on the dragon. The dragon stopped moving. Just then, a loud clap could be heard. The Black dragon in front of Riklaun had his right side ripped open by lightning bolt. Acid dripped from his wound as he fell. Starrrbolt pulled out his sword and moved in on his dragon. The dragon was no match for his speed and prowess with the blade. The dragon lept into the air and started to fly off. Brisid put two arrows into the retreating dragon. The dragon fluttered in the air and sped to the ground, crashing into it. Lerblumoon moved in on the black dragon that sat in front of her. The dragon took a swipe at her and she lopped the claw off and the wrist. the dragon reared and drew in breath, but to no avail. Lerblumoon's sword stuck out of it's chest. The last draon left was the one held by Brisid. The helpless dragon died swiftly. Starrbolt wiped his blade off and sheathed it. "I feel that if we are to complete this quest, we should go single file. I have been through this way before with a party and were decimated quickly. If we go singlily and invisible, we can skirt most of the monsters and pitfalls that are on the trail. All agreed and Starrbolt led off. Lerblumoon was second and Brisid brought up the rear. They kept a ten meter interval, much the same as a patrol of Lord Nashers would entering Neverwinter Woods. This would stop the whole party from being amushed at once. The trail was empty, the elves started to relax thier guard. Just then Lerblumoon cried out and dropped to the ground. Riklaun moved up to her and took a look. Her leg was caught in a sinkhole. "Are you alright?" Riklaun said as Brisid and Starrbolt took up defenseive positions. "I am ok Riklaun. It just startled me." Riklaun started to pull her up from the hole. She screamed. "My leg! Something bit me!" Riklaun pulled her from the hole and looked at it. Two small puncture marks were on her right calf. The area was already becoming swollen and purple. "Rik..." She said as she faded into unconsiousness. The poison worked fast into her system. Starrbolt opened his pouch and knelt. He took out some cream and rubbed it on her leg. He then forced a cool clear liquid down her throat. Her eyes fluttered open. She looked up throught bleary eyes. They helped her stand but her leg gave out from underneath her. "The poison has worked fast. But the salve I gave you should be enough to stop the flow for a little while." Starrbolt said. "We need to get you to a preist." Lerblumoon nodded. "Rik, over here." Brisid called out. Brisid was looking through the trees and saw part of the town. We can get here through this way." He proceeded to walk through the wall of trees. "No! Do not go any further!" yelled Starrbolt. "If you go through you will not be able to come back through the same way. You will have to follow the trail from the beginning. Magic surrounds this place. The path must be followed. If you deter, you will have to start anew." Lerblumoon got to her feet. She unsteadilly walked towards Brisid. I can make it to the town, they will know what to do. You three must continue the quest. This is more important that one elf. Please go, I will be fine." She moved past Brisid and waled out into the creaing on the eastern edge of town. Riklaun pulled out his sword and turned to Starrbolt. "Let's continue." He said. The elves started back on the trail. The mood had definitly changed. They continued down the trail until they came to a cave entrance. "This is it" Starrbolt said. I was down her once, My party got attacked just inside the entrance and we were forced to retreat." As prepared as they could be, the three elves ventured into the cave and down a small slope into the catacombs of the underdark. The cave entrance's guardians were no match for a party of prepared elves. They had caught them sleeping and dispatched them quickly. As they continued down through the catacombs, Riklaun heard a small skittering. He held up a hand to stop the party. He motioned for Brisid to go off to the side and Starrbolt to move off to the other side. Form down the corridor a light was seen. It grew brighter and bigger. Riklaun realised it was a fireball heading his way and brought up his globe. The fireball impacted him just as the globe came up. He was thurown back and the corridior lit up. The moss burned and smoldered. Driders came down the hall. Riklaun got up and backed off to the cavern the just went through. Starrbolt stood in the cavern casting his globe spell. Brisid was not around. The Driders emerged into the cavern, followed by two drow preistesess and two drow mages. Riklaun sent his own fireball into the driders, One of the Driders screamed as the hairs on his six legs lit up. The others surrounded Riklaun and attacked with thier swords. Starrbolt moved in, swiftly and dispatched one drider. One of the preistesses started casting her spell. "A Elamshin, Elgg Oggl.." She could not finish her sentence as Brisid drove his sword into her back. Darkness fell upon the cavern. Infravision could not peirce the darkness. Brisid started swinging his sword wildly. He connected with one of the wizards and took his head off. Riklaun backed off out of the spell's area. The remaining Drow preistess stood waiting for him. "Slyvaria sent us to kill you shebali." She said as she swung her snake whip. Riklaun blocked the whip and turned the blade in to cut the snakes off of the whip. He pulled out his smaller blade and swiped across her belly. She fell to the ground clutching her open belly. A drider came running out of the darkness spell towards Riklaun. He set himself and lopped off the two front legs of the Drider. He raised up on his back legs to cast a spell and Riklaun took the opportunity to skewer him. Brisid stepped out of the darkness with a Drider pressing forward. The two blades the Drider used were a blurr. Brisid parried each swing. One got through and cause a deep wound. He was forced back toward a tunnel out of the cavern. He turned and ran down the tunnel. The Drider stood and pulled out his bow. He aimed at Brisid and fired. The arrows flew towards Brisid and flew through him.. Brisid came back into view behind him and slashed the back of the Drider. The Drider swung wildly and caught Brisid's shoulder, before falling over dead. Brisid bandaged his shoulder up as best he could, the bleeding was severe enough to worry about. He turned around and found the Darkness spell gone. Also, no battle had been waged in the cavern, save for the one drider and the two drow that he killed. The rest were no where to be found. "Riklaun?" he called out. No answer. "What evil trickery is going on here?" Starrbolt walked up to Riklaun. "It is finished. The last drider is dead." he said. "Where is Brisid?" They looked around for the elf but could not locate him. They checked the darkness spell's area and did not find him. "I can sence him in the area, but where I do not know. Just then a voice called out of nowhere, "Riklaun? Where are you?" Brisid called. "I cannot find you, I am in the cave where the driders were. What has happened?" "Brisid? We hear you, but do not see you" Riklaun said. "As do I, something magical must have seperated me from you. I will head back to the surface." Brisid said. Rikluan bade him farewell and the two remaining elves continued on. The path onward was a series of wrong turns and mixups. Each time they took a step, they had to get theier bearings again. It seemed that the directions in this underdark were unknown. If they seperated, they would lose one another and the quest. They rounded a corner and Starrbolt brought up his hand. He heard noise from down the corridor. They prepared for battle and moved closer. They saw the distinct outline of a couple of cloud giants and a beholder. Starrbolt cast a cloud kill on the giants. Riklaun charged through the cloud, wisps of smoke following him. The beholder turned towards Rik and looked his way. A beam of light hit Riklaun in the chest. Unfazed by this, Riklaun proceeded to cut the very eyestalks from it's body. Starrbolt cast another spell, and the lightning bolt seared it's way through the Cloud giants. Wiping his blade off on one of the dead giant's clothes, Riklaun moved over to the altar nearby. the Orb of Life sat atop it glowing. He reached for it and placed it in his pack. Starrbolt and Riklaun started thier way back to the surface. They were weary and tired, but knew that they had half of the Lifegiver. They only needed to find the other portion up in West Bridge. The hour drew near, Rikaun and Brisid sat in the inn working on a strategy for recovering the staff. As they formulated a plan another Grey Company elf walked in. "Quel Re Mellonamin." he said. The two elves looked up. "I bring news from the Council. Drow attacks along the southern border have increased as of late. I am to journey with you for as long as I can. Also, Ler Blumoon is still recovering from the poison. Starrbolt has been moved to oversee the northern border and will be unable to join us." Riklaun shook Modar's hand. "Vedui' Brother. I am thankful fro the news about BluMoon, I feel as if it was my fault for getting her into this mess." Rik said. "No, she wanted to complete this quest." Modar corrected. "She knew the risks. We are thankful that you worked so fast. If Starrbolt had not the ointment to slow the poison, she would have died. The people of Redd Larch are grateful for the help that you have given. They are indebted to you and Brisid." Brisid got up and rolled up the plans. "I think we should get going, it will be light soon. and we will lose the cover of darkness." The elves gathered their supplies and headed out. They took the passage within the estates. Just as they emerged from the estates, they encountered several Cloud giant shaman milling about in the grove. Riklaun cast a fireball into the group and then charged. One of the Cloud giants cast a silence spell on Riklaun. Brisid edged around the battle to come in from the opposite side. As Brisid moved in a Giant cast another silence spell at him. Modar put up his globe and then drew his sword. Three giants surrounded Riklaun trying to grab him. As a hand got close it was cut by the whirring blades of Riklaun. A giant got behind Riklaun and grabbed both arms, causing him to drop his swords. Another started punching him. Riklaun felt each blow. As they punched the sound of the battle returned. Riklaun worked a hand free to fire a magic missile into the giant in front of him. The giant fell. Riklaun spun and around and cast another magic missile spell. The giant backed away. Riklaun ignored the pain he felt. He wiped the blood away from his good eye and started to cast a spell. Brisid looked up from the giant that lay before him to see a fireball explode in the grove. As the fireball died down, he saw Riklaun battered and bleeding near a tree. Modar was attacking the stone golem that was with the cloud giants. He swung and took off one of it's arms. The other was already gone. The stone giant crumbled. "Well, at least I have all my spells still" Brisid said. With that another group of giants came out of the woods and attacked. Riklaun cast a spell and duplicated himself. He then cast enlarge. He moved back towards a tree. Brisid cast a lightning bolt into the midst of the giants, felling two. Two stone golems moved up to where Riklaun was and started attacking him. Modar came to his aid and they fought back to back. The elves felt their limbs stiffen and their movements slowed down. Brisid launched a fireball into the group of cloud giants. They scattered and fell. One giant ran up to Brisid and swatted him with his weapon. Brisid tried to block the blow but was knocked off his feet. He slammed into a tree and fell to the ground. Picking himself up, he thrust his blade into the stomach of the giant. Riklaun backed up to Modar and cast a Haste spell to counter the effects of the slow. Their movements quickened and they dispatched the remaining enemies. As the tired elves looked around, the ground was littered with bodies. Modar looked to Riklaun and saw the pain he was in. Riklaun swayed and Brisid caught him before he fell. Rik shook his head to clear it, but saw only red. "Let's get him to the inn" Modar said. They traveled back to the inn and Modar left them to go to the Magic shop. He purchased several healing potions. He went back to Riklaun and gave them to him. As Riklaun drank the potions, he felt his health return. His left eye opened up and he could no longer see red. They rested for a bit longer, until Riklaun walked around the room. The three elves paid their tab and went out of the inn. Once outside, they cast invisibility and started anew. They got all the way to the entrance to the underdark when a troupe of dragons came down at them. Modar cast a fireball in them and then brought out his sword. Riklaun cast haste on himself and then enlarge. He moved quickly and brought down one dragon faster than could have been possible. Modar fought with the Wyverns. He cast another fireball into them. Riklaun ran over to Modar and helped him with the enemy in front of him. Rik chopped it down and moved on to the next. Brisid casually cast his haste spell. Then cast he cast mirror image on himself. Brisid entered the battle just as the last dragon died. The tree elves moved into the underdark. Modar led them an area that they could rest to regain spells. Riklaun finished first. He heard a noise from the next room. The walls did not touch the ceiling here so he stood on the table to get a better view. Looking over the wall, he saw four purple worms munching on something. Now wanting to find out what it was, Riklaun cast a spell. Brisid's ear's perked up as he heard the immortal words "Braggolach Tel'llach!". Riklaun smiled and launched another. Brisid got up and looked at Riklaun. He laughed. Brisid stood on a chair and could not see over the wall, so he walked out of the room to find out what Rik was shooting at. Brisid rounded the corner and came headlong into a purple worm who was tired of getting shot at. Brisid heard Rik yell "Templar Pillini". He saw 5 missiles streak to a worm and kill it. Brisid started chopping at the worm in front of him. Rik turned and cast another magic missile at the worm in front of Brisid. Modar quietly closed his spell book and stood. He watched the two young elves having fun. Modar walked out of the room and drew his sword. Out of spells, Riklaun did the same. They finished the fight quickly and resumed their memorizing. When they were finished, they headed east. Direction sense was useless here so they moved slowly and cautiously. They reached a door and walked in to a large room. They searched for a secret door. Brisid found it and unlocked it. Just then, the earth shook. Four Earth Elemental sprouted from the ground. The elves spread out and each launched a fireball. The elementals died as quickly as they surfaced. The three continued on and found little resistance. They came to a crossroads and Modar spoke up. "I must go now, I have pressing business elsewhere. It seems the two of you can handle it from here on out." Modar turned to leave. "Aluve' Modar, be careful. Send my regards to Blumoon." Riklaun said. Brisid pulled out his map and studied it. "From what we have gathered, the staff should be near." The two elves moved on towards their goal. Riklaun took lead and followed the path on the map. They came to an intersection and suddenly he felt dizzy. The room spun on him and he seemed to face another direction. Turning, he re-oriented the map. They continued on. The elves turned a corner and saw two ugly things guarding the passage. The two drooling lumps of flesh stood at a 't'. Riklaun picked up a small rock and tossed it towards the corridor. The creatures, heard the clunk and turned in the direction of the sound. The gibbered and ran down the passage. Riklaun just shook his head. They snuck past the monsters and continued on. Brisid took a look at the map. "The spot for the staff should be just around the corner. They stopped and prepared for battle. Riklaun listened at the door and heard voices. Drow language could be heard. Riklaun kicked in the door and drew his swords. A drow Priestess stood up from her throne. "Inbau Nina!!!" she yelled. Riklaun leapt over the two stone golems and took a chunk out of each of their shoulders on the way by. He landed on the Throne and glared at the Priestess. She backed up and hastily cast an ice storm at Riklaun. He shook off the cold and frost from his blades and swung them. The priestess brought up her whip to defend herself but only got it chopped in two. Riklaun gutted her and took the staff. Brisid came into the room and the Red dragon turned to him. He cast a lightning bolt and it zipped past the dragon. The dragon watched it go by and smiled. "You missed." he said. Brisid just smiled. The bolt bounced on the wall and impacted the back of the dragon. He reared and Brisid moved in. He cast a magic missile into the chest of the dragon and then started to attack him with his sword. Brisid finished off the dragon and took out one of the golems. Riklaun had already taken the other out. "We have the staff." Riklaun said. "The Drow is dead. Let us get out of here." They took the staff and packed it way so it would not get damaged. As they walked out of the underdark, Riklaun felt a vibration from the Orb. As he walked, it got worse. It seemed to be telling him something. He continued to follow the corridor when suddenly the orb yanked Riklaun to the right. The outline of a secret door could be seen. Brisid checked the door for traps and then unlocked it. They stepped in and a blinding light flashed through the room. They found themselves standing in a room that had been used recently as a hideout. They checked it over for any sight of the previous occupant. As they searched a voice cried out. "Get away from there! What are you doing?!" Riklaun whirled to face the voice. An old man stood in the doorway, leaning on a staff. His hand seemed to pulse with magic. "Go away! Get out of my home!" He said. He waved his staff at the two invaders. Brisid reached for his sword, but Riklaun stopped him. "Kind sir, We are two weary travellers searching for someone." Riklain said. "We are on a quest for the lifegiver, do you know where I may find Alinster?" Riklaun pulled his hood off and shook his mane of hair out. He smiled at the old man. "Elves?" The old man gasped. "I had not thought that I would ever see one again. I am Alinster Crostrum. Please, tell me, have you have found the peices?" "Yes, we have." Riklaun said. He pulled out the Orb and the Staff. Alinster took the items. "There is not much time, I can re-unite them. At least one of the nine Jewels of Neverwinter is safe." With that, he proceeded to use his magics to meld the Staff and Orb together. When he finished, he returned it to Riklaun. "Now, go and give this to Lord Nasher. He must know that the Lifegiver has been found." The two elves were transported back to where they began. They looked around and begun the trip back to the surface. On their way out they found a room with a drow altar in it. Riklaun pulled out a dagger and cut his finger. "What are you doing?" Brisid asked. Riklaun proceeded to bleed on the altar. When he was finished, he stepped back. The words 'Riklaun was here' were sprawled across the face of the altar. The two elves walked out of the underdark and into the cool winter air.Thief - Part 2 "Neverwinter" (submitted by Garthlik) As written by Garthlik One Eye As I rode, I wondered if I would be able to return to my hiding place. I wouldn't take a chance on it. There were good people there that didn't need my problems bothering them. I had been a thief most of my life. It had been an adventure at first, but become a living as time went on. To be able to slip into someone's bed chambers with them there asleep, steal their valuables, and leave without ever disturbing them, was a feat most could not accomplish. My father had been a ranger and my mother a priestess of Mielikki. I had never returned to the woods in Neverwinter after I decided to follow the path of a thief. Had never seen my parents since that day, so long ago. I had heard that they had both died some years ago. The days passed by quickly as I rode. There appeared to be no pursuit. At least none that I can see. I am sure that Atani Roc will try to find me, if the King let's him live. I chuckle at the thought of the King finding him tied to a tree, buck naked, with the necklace lying at his feet. Finally, I find myself at Red Larch. I wonder if I can sell the knife at the Long Road Weaponry shop. They're known for their fine weapons collection. I got just enough to feed my horse and bed her down for the night, and then get myself a meal and a room at the Swinging Sword Inn. The next morning, I find the local training school and talk to the instructor about different courses of action open to me. "You could train as a paladin or even a ranger with your speed and agility," he said, "But there are the paths of the priesthood open to you also. The choices are yours to make, I can only advise. And, I might say, you have more of the qualities of a ranger than any." I take my leave, and leave the school to look around some more. As I turn a corner, I duck back into the shadows quickly. The man I had met at the gate last night, Ogloth Tamiar and the arms shop dealer are talking to a guard or soldier, and pointing in the general direction of the training school. I am not going to find out what they are talking about. I slip thru alleys and down side streets till I come to the stables where my horse is. It is quiet, I slip in, saddle my horse, stow my provisions and make silently to the gate. Just as I am leaving the gates, an alarm is sounded. I look around in time to see several guards running my way. I make the saddle and spur my horse out the gate and north. I maneuver a quick left and then right turn, look back quickly to see if there is any pursuit, and there doesn't appear to be. Charging ahead, the trail makes a sharp turn to the west. Just as the trail again turns north, a figure on foot turns the corner right into the right shoulder of my horse. As the figure goes sprawling onto the trail, I continue on northward. Sorry friend, but my troubles are worse than yours I right now. Soon I pass by a sign that reads "West Bridge - North". Westbridge, I think I might a least have one friend there. As I near the town, I check my purse to see how much coin I have left. Enough for a stable and a meal, maybe. I find the stables and bed my horse down. She has ridden hard and deserves a good rest. I walk along till I spy the Happy Halfling Inn. What has been said is true, the best ale in 20 realms is served here. Hunger satisfied, I make my way to the Woodcrest Estates, explain my business to the guard, and enter. I wonder if she will remember me. Two doors on the left, I knock. "Who's there," a voice asks from within, "What business do you have here?" As the door opens slightly, I hear a gasp. "Garthlik, I thought you dead these many years. Come in, come in my old friend," cries Tristie Zandor. She hurries me into her home as she shuts the door behind her. I explain all that has transpired these last couple of weeks. "Well, you have a place to rest here for a few days if you need," she says, "I will make sure your horse is tended too." As she shows me to a guest room, I thank her. She brushes me off in her same old manner and quickly hurries off down the hall. I lay my head down on the soft feather pillow. Sleep and peace engulf me quickly. I am safe with Tristie. The next morning over breakfast, we talk of the changes I am thinking of making in my life. "You would make a good ranger, as your father was," she said, "but of course, you have never been bad at anything you've done." She snickers and gives me quick glance. "I can't stay too long," I say, "I don't want to put you in danger. It won't take long for word to travel from Red Larch." "All right," she replies, "you must travel to Lord Nasher, explain your circumstances, and ask for a new beginning. It's the only way I can think of." She hands me a bag, heavy with coin. "Take this and don't say a word." Real friends are hard to come by. She walks with me to the stables, helps me ready my horse, and tells me the way to Triboar. I'm not sure if I saw a tear or not when I ride away. Better I don't know. North I ride, avoiding a nasty looking dragon and her brood. West for quite awhile, then I spy a sign to the north, "Triboar - North" it reads. As I ride along, I spy an arena to my right. Just what I need, this town is probably full of soldiers and bounty hunters. Will have to keep a low profile and move through here quickly. At the juncture in town, I ask directions and turn west. I ride out of town then turn south along the trail. It turns north and dead ends at a gate that reads "The Lost Hills - Danger". I enter the hills cautiously, and make my way west and then north. There seems to be an awfully large amount of evil activity within the hills. Only my ability as a thief carries me through to the Crossergate entrance. The Lost Hills certainly are a wild place to get lost in. As I make my way south and then west, I have to slip by a couple of packs of wild boar. They would make short work of my horse if they were to get a hold of her. Not wanting to stop, I make my way through town and head north toward Vilnask. Along this path, a pack of ice hounds and wolves jump me. I kill them after a vicious fight, but my horse doesn't make it. They've killed her and save me the trouble. Wounded myself, I gather what supplies I can carry, and start off on foot. By nightfall, I have made Vilnask path. Not wanting to sleep out here with wolves prowling these parts, I make my way along the path toward the town. I slip by a banshee and some wicked looking men with their faces covered. Eventually I make the inn and buy ale and roasted boar. I find out from listening to talk in the inn, that the men I had seen were called Kracken spies, a nasty lot. After filling my empty stomach, I purchase a room and bed down for the night. The next morning, I awake early and head north toward the town of Southwall. Again I run into some wolves, but this time they have trees with them. Trees that can crush the life out of a man in an instant. Slipping by them, I make my way north. Through Southwall and in Neverwinter, the home of Lord Nasher. I enter the palace and explain myself to the guards. After several hours, I think I am going to be arrested, but instead they escort me to the back of the palace and into a large room. "So, you would ask for my protection and forgiveness," booms the voice a Lord Nasher as he enters the room from behind me. "Garthlik One Eye, I have heard of you and know some of what I hear not to be true. I will grant your wishes, but on two conditions," he says. With a sigh of relief, I reply "M'Lord, anything you ask, I shall accomplish." He laughs at that and says, "I think you jump to quickly at my offer. Hear me first." I nod in agreement. "The first thing I ask of you is to travel to Southwall and bring news of a band of thieves that have been operating out of there as of late," he remarks, "Then return and I shall give you your second task." This shouldn't be to hard I think, me being a thief and all. "But, I have listened to your tale and have decided that you will follow a different path. The path of a ranger," replied Lord Nasher. "Go now!" he orders. My jaw nearly hits the stone floor with that last order. I am being ordered to become a ranger. As I left the palace, I notice that it is still snowing, I turn south toward Southwall and notice a training school on my right. I enter and talk awhile with the instructor. "I will agree to train you as best I can in the ways of a ranger, but to complete your education, you must seek a priest or priestess of Mielikki. Only they will be able to finish your training," he says. I agree, thinking of my parents, and pay several gold coins to get started. Leaving the school and heading south, I make my way to the Red Mage Inn for the night.Al Karak Elam (submitted by Sojourness) I did not *really* notice it at first, so faint it was. Frosting the delicate layers of cake completely occupied my attention. As if it were a fly buzzing around my head, I barely noticed it again. The third time, though, it registered... "Oh please, help" So soft... so very, very weak. "Can you hear me? Please help". Spoken, not cried out in pain, fear or anguish, the words were whispered... subdued. I froze, listening. Not the voice of a COR, nor was it any of my KORT or PAL friends... not a dwarven voice... not a dryad... "I cannot get away from here. I'm trapped in Llast." Desperately I tried to reach out telepathically, to connect somehow to this person who had found me, but I failed... almost as if there were no one there. "Oh please, help. Can you hear me? Please help. I cannot get away from here. I'm trapped in Llast." As the muted voice repeated the exact words same words for the fourth time, a chill slid down my spine. "It's a Spirit Thread!", I thought to myself. Quickly I crossed the room and closed the kitchen door. Leaning against the wall, I listened... over and over again the voice repeated its message. "Oh please, help. Can you hear me? Please help..." I heard the voice of legend in stunned silence. The Al Karak Elam were beings sung of in ancient song, told of in bedtime stories. The "winged folk" my mamma had told me of were strong, noble, warriors and scouts. Standing over 5 feet tall and having 10 to 12 foot wing spans, they were *not* wee faerie folk. Ancient wisdom had it that when one of the Elam was threatened with death before its chosen time, its soul would reach out... calling for aid... connecting to another soul... The Spirit Thread would bind the soul of the "Searcher" to the soul of the "Listener." In this way, then, would the Listener either come to the aid of one not yet ready to die or stand as witness to their death, that they may not pass on alone, unobserved and unhonored. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The look on Jackwar's face, as I told him my tale, said it all. Throughout the realms, for those studied in mythology, the Elam were things of awe. Although (like myself) he was slightly incredulous, he was also quick to grant me leave and supplies, then promised he would get word to Isil. If this was truly a Spirit Thread the missions urgency was such that I did not wish to take time to write and explain my absence. Scrolled up, provisioned and traveling as fast as I could away from the guild house, I was aware that neither the timbre of the voice nor the frequency with which it constantly spoke in my mind had changed. I hoped this was good news... The crisp morning air smelled wonderful as I entered the "last port"; the sea scented it with salt and other aromas of a marine environment. A favorite haunt of mine, I had most recently been in Llast with Jhassal. I regretted not taking the time to explain to her about what a fine city had once been here... the crude traces left could never represent what it had been in its original glory, for what stonecutter would build himself anything but the best? As I worked my way to the inn to rest before developing a final strategy, I noted with the same remote sadness I always did the volume of scavenging that had been done to rebuild this (now tiny) village. My heart would ever have a hard spot in it against the destructiveness of orcs and the residents of Luskan, who between them had wrought such damage. I settled in at the Griffon Inn, always a popular place due to the Port Llast Training Hall being just across the way. Discrete inquiries to the tavern staff revealed nothing, so I sat for a while, eavesdropping. The place was packed... snippets of conversation could be heard from the entire great room. Not one mention of anything remarkable. Some WARRs laughing about the "puppy fight" which I presumed to be the Ice and Hell Hound kennel... some travelers new to the realms were bemoaning their surprise at the teleport traps the villagers had set... PALs discussing drac's... not word one about finding anyone trapped anywhere, much less an Elam. As I sat there, the voice of the Spirit Thread continued... "Oh please, help. Can you hear me?...." With a sigh, I decided to search the cleared pathways first, then the Gallant Prince. Finally, if I had unearthed nothing significant I would proceed thru the clever series of teleport stations devised by the Illuskians. Although I was familiar with the area, I had brought my maps with me to insure I missed no possibilities. Rather then walk about with maps in hand, I slipped them, folded, into my pocket, then dug out the tablet and pencil from my back pack... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Port Llast Record of Search - Sojourness of the Laurel Crest - COR Ran the path from entrance to exit, nothing unusual. Griffs here are much smaller then in LS wonder if they are young of the same species or just a miniature version. Infestation of rats, boars, owl bears and carrion crawlers seems to have worsened since last here. Record of Search end. Gallant Prince Record of Search - Sojourness of the Laurel Crest - COR Approached the huge merchant ship from the east. Entered the pier, ignoring the "Danger Do Not Enter" sign, only to be confronted by a guard, who felt it inappropriate for a lady to proceed alone. "Sailed from Waterdeep with a full crew, lady! Less then a week later, drifts in here empty... No cargo... no crew... I can't let ye board, Milady!" Walked away, waited until he left for some reason, entered the ship. Eerie place, mostly carrion crawlers, skeletons, trolls... Exactly what one would expect of a haunted ship. Unexpected were the floors which teleported me to the upper and lower decks of the ship. A man claiming to be the last seaman of the ship, blames the original destruction on the Pirates of Luskan... Clearly stoned by Medusae, my attempts to save him failed. Retrieved a button with Coat of Arms, I'll drop it off at Nashers. Fell through floor into captains quarters, luxurious, vandalized. Record of search end. Port Llast Record of Search (continued) - Sojourness of the Laurel Crest - COR Record of Search resumes. Exploring the back routes and byways of Llast, meeting few. Seems that most people leave the area in late afternoon these days. Dracs were little challenge, but there found first clue! After slaying the beasts, spotted a long, light grey, feather. When I picked it up... just for a second my minds eye focused on an image! A pile of rubble... fine boned hands covered with blood... long silvery grey hair... The voice of the Spirit Thread faltered, just for a second, but I know that it paused... it has (after all) been constant in my mind for nearly 8 hours. "Oh please, help. Can you hear me?...." Stopped by Harbor Masters before heading to the harbor area, his pipe tobacco smelled so much like Jackwar's had to ask what it was. Said it was from a tobacconist in Westbridge (whom I have never heard of). While we sat discussing my mission, that Haljal fellow from the Inn entered, reporting that not only had another body been found floating in the harbor... but that "she" had been seen again... the mysterious doomed lady... I proceed toward the harbor. A stranger to the realms might call the harbor and the port by the same name. Record of search end. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dusk brought the beasts out in full force. As I rounded the corner to my favorite rest spot (which I now needed badly), I noticed the wall had caved in to the west of the small building above the crypt. Just as I stepped in to Turn the latest batch of skeletons and zombies that inhabited the building my mind *clicked* on the image I had seen earlier! The pile of rubble... it was *the* pile of rubble!! Quickly as I could I Turned the foul undead, then rested and strengthened myself. I flung myself at the heap of masonry, lifting the huge pieces away with as much care as I could. Heart pounding with excitement, I almost feared the passage of each minute, of each stone moved away exposing nothing... There... There it was... The skin was so translucent as to show every vein. So pale... so pale and so sad that it was evident that the blood no longer coursed through those veins. Sobbing wretchedly, I sunk to my knees, head bowed. I was too late. I may have been too late from the moment I left the kitchen, for the Spirit Thread still was in my head... still asking for aid... "Oh please, help. Can you hear me?...." The hands had been blooded trying to shove the stone off of the hollow boned body. With tender, grieving care, I finished that task. Stone by stone I uncovered him. The delicate build must have been required for flight, the long silvery hair matched exactly the feathers on the crushed wings. Unable to stop weeping, finally I had the Elam excavated.... He was beautiful.... there was no other word. Lowering the mind shield that had kept me isolated from the telepathic links of the realms, I hailed Jackwar, my guild brother and Sage. Tragically, our conversation mingled with the Spirit Thread's unending request... "Oh please, help. Can you hear me?..." Unutterable sorrow bade me to clean the Elam up, whilst I awaited the arrival of aid from my fellow Crusaders. Digging in my backpack, I retrieved water, then tore off a shirt sleeve for a rag. As I bathed the Elam and smoothed his feathers, I wished I had the power to raise him... to hear this voice in my head emit from the thin lipped mouth below the roman nose. Hours later (seeming only moments) Jackwar, Tex, Jhas and Lightsedge arrived. Their wonder at the Elam was second to their concern for me, a fact which warmed my heart. While the men prepared a pyre, my dear sister and friend wrapped her arms around me and let me cry out the anguish in my soul. In a fashion we knew must be alien to magnificent man on the pyre, we five prayed. Each of us to own god, each of us in our own place. To his own gods he went, having passed alone and unobserved, but no longer unhonored. As the smoke spiraled to the sky, I, Sojourness of the Laurel Crest, Culinary Artist of COR, grieved bitterly at the loss of the Searcher. As the voice in my mind became silent, I knew I was no longer "Listener of the Al Karak Elam"The Lady and the Wraith (submitted by Veridienne) A LOVE STORY THE LADY AND THE WRAITH The wraith was unlike the others she had known. She was just being polite, but felt his eyes on her, and interest in her, from the start. While there had been others as polite and thoughtful, it was rare that she felt this sympathy with anyone. There was of course their mutual appetite for death and destruction, but it went beyond that. At times they spoke and it seemed as if their thoughts were the same. They conversed for hours, with words that seemed perfectly innocent but had deeper meanings. Neither would come out and say it, but as time went on, each drew the other in more and more, until it became almost impossible for one to leave the other. And yet, in all this time, he did no more than touch her on the cheek, or kiss her hand, when others had swept her into prolonged kisses with much less provocation. The first time she understood the depths of his feelings for her was when they stood one night on a cold and barren hill, lost in talk, and she mentioned the tea party she had held that afternoon. "You mean, like with dolls?" he asked, seemingly mocking. She blushed. After all, she was still young, barely an adult. "If I had dolls I would rip their heads off," she began, and then told him about being punished at the orphanage for destroying all the dolls they had for the children. She was surprised at his response. "Now I know I'm in love," he said, looking into her eyes. "Look in my eyes, my dear." In them she saw dark clouds, and when the clouds cleared a pool of water. Or was it water? Then nothing. She stared, enchanted. Every time she looked at him, she was captivated. Somehow, she knew that if he asked her anything when her eyes were upon him, she would have to do whatever he asked. It was terrifying, yet at the same time exhilarating. She recalled what he had said. "You must be teasing me," she insisted. "Do you have a heart with which to love?" "It is not with me, but I do have a heart." "Where is it?" "Look in my eyes again," he commanded. In his eyes she saw it... A bloody battle ... thousands of soldiers dying ... a lake nearby with choppy waters ... a lone knight on horseback, dressed in black, holding a sword too sharp to be non-magical. As he charged, something went wrong. He blundered, and a lance pierced his heart. Then nothing, just blackness. The desolate battlefield strewn with the torn corpses of the fighters. Dust swirling, gathering into a storm ... and the whole scene was buried, never to be seen again. The image faded... As dawn approached, they still stood, talking. She knew that his form would not allow him exposure to the sun without pain. He begged her to allow him to go. At times she would reach her hand out to touch him, and feel an icy chill as her hand passed through him. Finally he obliged her by solidfying, so she could feel his form beneath her fingers. As she touched his cheek, she blushed. "I wonder what it would feel like..." her words trailed off. She dared not finish the thought. She wondered if he knew what she wanted, and wished she hadn't spoken aloud. He did not answer her for a few minutes. Had he even heard her? Eventually he said, "we cannot until you are one of us." "We can't?" She blushed again as she realized he had heard her, and knew of what she was thinking. He reached out and caressed her cheek. "If I were to kiss you, would you resist?" Her skin burned under his touch and the depth of her feelings for him. "I could not refuse you anything." "My dear, you could not help but resist me if I tried to take your life." She gazed at him, confused. "With a kiss?" "A heartfelt kiss is a merging of the spirits. If I kissed you, and you did not resist me, my spirit would enter your body and overpower yours." "And this would kill me?" "A heartfelt kiss is a merging of the spirits. If I kissed you, and you did not resist me, my spirit would enter your body and overpower yours." "And this would kill me?" "You would only begin to die. From the first kiss, it may not take long... I am uncertain, but each kiss will speed the process, and bring you closer to death..." "You will kill me with your kiss," she asked, staring, at him, horrified. "No... in the final days of your life, I will rend the flesh from your body," he caressed her arm gently, "and then, I will make you as one with me." He approached her. This time there was no menace in his eyes. "I would take your life, not for the pleasure it would give me, even though for me, murder is intense pleasure..." he trailed off. "I wish to have you by my side for the rest of eternity. The life of a wraith is lonely..." He stepped even closer, and looked at her, considering. She felt his dead eyes on hers, on her lips, on her neck, as if savoring her warmth, and she suddenly knew that he would do it then if she allowed it. "Is it my time yet?" she asked, fascinated and horrified at the same time. She was still young, and knew not whether her death was imminent. At that moment, the sun broke over the mountains in the distance. Without a word, he was gone. The following evening she saw him, and he did not look well. The sun seemed to have taken its toll on him. Ashamed, she begged his forgiveness for keeping him out until sunrise. "Am I to be punished?" She saw a wicked gleam in his eye, but he did not answer. Some time later, he noticed she was distracted and inquired of what she was thinking. "I can't stop thinking about how you will punish me." She said, her mind on whips and other instruments of torture, slightly thrilled at the prospect of the pain he might inflict upon her. "You really want to be punished, don't you?" He smiled at her indulgently. "Well, how else am I going to learn?" She blushed deeply, realizing that he knew full well that she wanted his torture. "What is to be my punishment?" "The worst punishment I can think of is for you to spend the rest of eternity with me." Her breath caught. "Why? Are you going to make me miserable?" "You cannot possibly imagine the agony I could put you through. But, at the same time, you would also feel incredible pleasures, indescribable ecstasy. But there is also of course the constant hunger..." He stopped and took in her expression. "Then again, you might like the existence of a wraith." All the while, she was gazing into his eyes, seeing herself reflected in them, the image changing. She was darker, less substantial, and more like him. And he was by her side... swirling around her. She stared, fascinated, watching the images. His voice startled her, and she tore her eyes away from his to see he was holding out his hand. "Come here, my dear." She looked back in his eyes and felt again his will boring into her through them, compelling her to follow his commands. She stepped closer, so that she would have been almost touching him, if his form were substantial. He took her face between his hands and kissed her deeply. Emotions swirled through her... his love for her ensnaring her as her life began to drain, her heart slowing, her body temperature dropping... being in his arms she felt the pain as he sapped her vitality, coupled with unbelievable ecstasy, and surprisingly, she did not regret any of it... From this moment she began her change. She felt her energy draining more and more, an extraordinary weariness as she grew closer to death each day. Sometimes it seemed she could hardly stand. Along with the lethargy were dull aches in her limbs, and the frequent pains shooting through her chest. Her heart felt as if it were burning, her brain as if it was disintegrating. And yet, the suffering was insufficient. She craved more. Every physical discomfort distracted her from the torture within her soul, the pressing need to finally be one with him. She found herself begging people, even mortals, to hurt her, thanking them as they ripped the flesh from her body. And then there were the moments with him. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, and she felt his presence in her mind whenever he was near. Whenever they encountered each other she would wait for his kiss, for his touch... for how could her flesh and blood capture his vapor within her arms? She could feel the eyes of mortals upon them when he spoke words of love to her, when he embraced her, when his undead lips met hers, when he gnawed on her neck and drank the blood that still remained within her. They watched her shivering as he drew her warm body to his icy one. At times they made comments, disgusted that she would allow this embrace, that she breathed in his scent of the tomb. At first, when it was all new to her, she would try to explain. Eventually, she realized that none of them would ever understand how her shudders were not only from the chill of his touch upon her, but also from the intense delight he gave her with every touch, every kiss, every bite. While she had been touched by males before, she had never felt this way about anyone, and she found that her passion for him grew and grew. Her heart, which beat more slowly every day, quickened when she was in his arms. Her skin tingled with every caress. And now almost every day he was pushing her away, surprised at her youth, her heat, her passion as she yearned for more from him. She was always begging him to stay longer, close to tears when he left. Every time he had to leave her, she felt lost without him, incomplete. From the day of their betrothal, his smell clung to her hair, to her dress. This sweet scent of decay was with her always. Even on balmy, windless days, even indoors, cold breezes caressed her, and she heard sounds in the wind, as if someone was calling her name. She was sure her mind was disintegrating as her body wasted away in her slow demise ... Until one day he told her. He was holding her in a tight embrace as he was about to depart. "My love," he whispered in her ear, "when I am gone from you, and you feel the caress of a breeze upon you, remember, it is me." "You... touch me when I cannot see you?" "Yes my dear, I am always with you, remember that...." With those words, he was gone again...Two Scoops (submitted by Raisn Bran) In the time when the world was young. There exsisted two enpires, one of the good and noble humans, and the other of ruthless koblds. Though the kobolds had a bad THAC0 and an even worse AC. The humans ,fearing for there children, relentlessly fled from there homes hoping the kobolds would leave them in peace. The great kobold war captain, M.C. Kobold, demanded his horde to sieze more land. Following his orders,his entire force of kobolds stormed the human capital of Stonekeep.After claiming Castle Stonekeep as their base of operations, the evil koblds planned total dominance of the land. The horde rallied together to push the humans back to the shores of DwarvenCove. Where M.C. Kobld would slay them with his mighty +1 Club. As the humans reached DwarvenCove, they pleaded with the Dwarves to defend them. The Dwarves, not wanting kobold dropings on their land, ordered a bowl to be constructed. Using their skilled hands they constructed a bowl fit for a king. Its golden brim sparkeled with jewls. They then placed the bowl deep in the bowels of the Earth, where the molten rock formed a mighty warrior. The gods gave him their blessing, and named him Raisn Bran. Endowed with the gods blessing and two scoops of lightly frosted rasins, he set out to battle the Kobolds. At the shore of DwarvenCove he arose and entered battle with M.C. Kobold. The warcheif raised his club and attacked. Even though Raisn was but a 4th level Cleric his +2 Plate Mail and Shield defended him from the blow. "For Raisnite-god of the raisn!!" he cried as he unleashed his sugar-coated fury onto the kobold. "Noooooooooo!" he cried and was gone. "Hail Raisn Bran, Protecter of all that is good!" rejoiced the townsfolk, as they made their way back to castle Stonekeep. And they all lived happily ever after.A Conflict of Interest (submitted by SK Torm) A Conflict of Interest Wenghwait the Presumptous decided that it had been a good night. No, scratch that, a VERY good night. Strider had made sure that the ale had flowed, the song was sweet, and the women... ah!, the women... but, he chastises himself, this was one gnome who was married. A brief sweep of disappointment rushes by him before he can supress it. His wife had been so lovely, so talkative... until their honeymoon. Wenghwait had brought out his latest invention, the five shot automatic hand crossbow, to let Darla see what would bring them their fortune. She had squealed with excitement... but that was the last noise that would pass her lips. The crossbow misfired, hitting her once in the throat, four times in the face. The end result was that the beautful, fine figure of a gnome's wildest dream had overnight been transformed into a hideous, mute, disfigured thing. Darla knew that she was no longer what he had married, and offered to annul the marriage. But Wenghwait couldn't bring himself to do it. He had, in his heart, married the person, not the body, but it was still very saddening every time he went out to ale and he saw his friends with their wives cuddling together, then seeing Wenghwait and quietly disengage. Everyone knew about it. He would only wave and bid them continue, but there was a sort of a silent rage that was within him, for the pity, the condescending looks. Well, he thought to himself, there would be no more of that after tonight. He was ending it all. He was tired of living the charade, existing on people's pity. His turtle came within view of his house. Wenghwait took a long, deep breath. The hardest part, he knew, would be telling Darla. But, I'm an old gnome, he thought. Certainly I can pass it off as natural... Wenghwait dismounts Vincent and goes inside. "Darla, I'm home... Darla..." His voice trails away when he looks into the bedroom. There he saw Darla with a veil over her scarred face, totally nude and beckoning. Wow!, Wenghwait thought. He had forgotten that the rest of her body was far, far, far from scarred. He started to go in, but caution caught him. Hmm... Darla's never this... frisky?, he cogitated. "Be there in a second, dear... gotta go into the kitchen to get something to eat." Actually, Wengh needed an excuse to think. What had he done to get this? And how on Toril would he be able to tell Darla about his... plans after something like what was soon to come. But as soon as he took the first step towards the kitchen, Darla leapt off the bed and sped towards him, crying to come back. Wait a minute... crying?! Something is definitely afoot, thought Wend. He stormed into the kitchen despite all of Darla's protest, and there he found another Darla, this one with an eternal scream pasted on her face, lying in a pool of blood. She had numerous dagger wounds, but the head... the head! It looked as if something had sucked off the top half of her forehead and chewed out the brain. Wend spun around, ready to fight this abomination which was masquerading as Darla... when daggers pierced the base of his neck, causing all to die away... P'jin finished his latest meal. Messy, messy he berated himself. I should've never let that gnome get into the kitchen... makes for some disturbing images. But, on the other hand, the ends justify the means, and... he surveys his latest meal, the gnome Wenghwait the Presumptuous... this brain surely justifies whatever trouble I went to in procuring it. Sure, they may be foolish and flighty at times, but absolutely nothing can compare to their raw intellect. And what an intellect this one had! I've been tracing him for several years, waiting for the time in his life when he was the ripest... and now I reap my reward. Satisfied with the completion of his job, P'jin walked to the local thieves' guild, the Spirit Lurkers, to recieve an assignment that was meant for someone else. It simply wouldn't make for good appearances to have the Spirit Lurkers believe that a doppleganger was intruding on their property, he smugly thought. Ah well, such is the curse of being able to be someone else... P'jin is brought out of his revelry by the hissing voices emanating from the door. "Get in, get in, you fool! Do you think that we need to let the entire world know where our base is?" Slightly startled, P'jin takes a seat. The Guildmaster, Robitius, explained the latest plan. "It seems that we have a small problem on our hands... the Council is currently considering a plan to increase the prescence of the town watch in the gnome sector of our operations... I need not tell you that this would run contrary to our interests. We need a volunteer to masquerade as Lord Nasher... do I have volunteers?" P'jin looked around the room. Somewhat amused that noone dares to raise their hand, P'jin does so. "Ah, Lortas, your first important assignment. Very well. What you will need to do is merely sit back and act bored with the entire affair. Act like this is no big deal, that we have more important things to do with our watch resources, etc, etc. I will be there personally to oversee your job. Do you have need of our disguise resources?" As he says this, he motions to the inhouse mage, who merely made a slight bow. Almost laughing out loud at the absurd request, P'jin declined. "Heh. Don't blame you, never trusted mages myself. Fine then, we will take care of Lord Nasher. Just be at the gate at six pm, and we'll go in together." With that, he adjourns the meeting. P'jin returned to the gnome's house. This is pretty amusing, he thought. Using the gnome's own intellect to burgle, steal from, and murder others of his kind. Once he is securely within the confines of the gnome's burrow, he removes the bodies from the premises. Looking at the woman's disfigured face, he quelled a sense of nausea. You've disfigured people ten times worse before, boy.... what's wrong with you now? Feeling somewhat sentimental, he placed their bodies side by side in the trash heap, concealed by the contents of the crock pot. Still not quite pleased, P'jin shrugged and set out for the local bar. P'jin looked with considerable mirth at the name of the bar. 'Gnome's Delight'. According to the memories of Wend, this was his favorite bar. Heh, a gnome voyeur... what a laugh! P'jin privately remarked. Struck by a sudden desire to see what such a place might have to behold, he entered. Looking inside, he recieved quite a jolt. Gnomes certainly aren't overly secretive about their loves, he thought. So, so unlike the subtle machinations of the doppleganger females... Ah, what I would give to have another of those... P'jin shakes his head. What had he been thinking? He had never enjoyed romance before, and he had only thought of it as a prelude to creating offspring. But looking around the room, he realized that he was strangely jealous of the romantic gnomes. Why? P'jin cudgeled his brain. But something wouldn't give, and he remained mystified. Perhaps it's because I'm the the fat codger's form... yes, that must be it. Taking a seat at the absurdly small table, he orders some wine. Nursing his drink, he grows jealous to truly maddening proportions. What do they have that I don't! I can have anything! This very night, I am going to take the place of the highest official in the Savage Frontier, what need have I for some drunken gnomes? Finally disgusted, he stalks out of the bar towards the gate. Robitius calls yet again to the guard for the time. "Ye seem a good bit anxious tonight, good sir. Pray tell what ails?" the guard says congenially after giving the time- 6:10. "Ah, nothing... just some irritation at a late friend." he replies through slightly clenched teeth. When that Lornas gets here... He stares at what is in front of him. He sees Lord Nasher approaching the gate in finest chain and hauberk, with the royal scepter at his hand. After having to calm himself after remembering that it's just Lornas, he hisses, "Why are you late?? We are on a VERY tight schedule, and there's no time to spare. Hurry!" With that, Robitius hurries on to the council room, noticing Lortas's somewhat concerned face. He shrugs. "First time jitters, no doubt." he mutters. Lithely sliding into a side closet, he bades Lornas continue. "Just go to the council rooms, I'll be there momentarily." he whispers. Safe inside the closet, he digs his favorite scroll out of his pocket. "Shape Change." he proudly states, admiring the scroll that he had been saving for just the right occasion. Slowly chanting, he begins the long process of casting this complex spell. P'jin continues on to the council room, leaving Robitius in the closet. He had been thinking about the gnomes, all the blasted, romantic gnomes. They're just innocent, simple people, why do they have to be the ones to be thieved? Why can't the Spirit Lurkers rob the rich, human pansies instead? Why prey on my friends and family? P'jin thinks. "NO! It's melding!" he yells with sudden horror. Realizing what he just did, he thanks The Formless One that noone was within hearing distance. He takes a seat in the ornate, gilded chair at the head of the long teak table. Soon the councilmembers file in, all nodding in turn at P'jin. Perhaps taking this role will give me something to think about while I straighten this out, he thought. At the end of the procession, a strange, blonde bearded man entered, winking as well as nodding at Lord Nasher. Heh, he thought, Robitius wasn't kidding when he said he would be keeping tabs on me. A grizzled black-haired gnome rises from the table. "Lord Nasher, I request the floor." "Ahem. Of course, Ghifba, speak your peace." P'jin states gruffly. Seeming slightly taken aback by the strange tone of the response, he begins... "Lord Nasher, we gnomes have been preyed upon by the Spirit Lurkers for far too long. They have murdered our friends, relatives, neighbors..." he pauses here to wipe his eye, "why, just this afternoon, the bodies of Wendghwait and his wife were found, dumped in a refuse container. How much longer must the killing continue? How long will we have to wait before our rights are addressed too?" At this point, hearing Wendghwait's name being mentioned, sweat beads out on P'jin's forehead. "Thank you, Ghifba, you may be seated. Jugro, I believe you had something...?" And he motions to Robitius. Robitius, seeing P'jin visibly sweating, sends him a telepathic message, "Calm down. Noone suspects, although they will if you keep on sweating like that." At this time, Ghifba gets quite angry. "Lord Nasher, I invoke law 36-B, which allows a councilmember to speak sufficient peace. Now, if you will excuse me..."P'jin notices a small gesture in Robitius's direction, "I have nothing further to say." And he sits down without comment. "Ladies and gentelmen of the council," Robitius began... You can't escape, P'jin. P'jin sits bolt upright in his seat. What was that? Why did I hear it? What's happening? P'jin's confusion is apparent on his face. Robitius, momentarily concerned, continues, "I have noticed that the ledgers register quite a few figures in the negative column..." No, I won't let you alone, P'jin. You killed my wife. Before the night is over, I shall settle the score. The melding! It has truly begun! P'jin recalls once when a fellow doppleganger melded. He died horribly. I won't give in, P'jin. I will haunt you until I am sated! "now, if you'll notice that the current watch ledger is one of the main causes of this money void..." You are arrogant, P'jin. You think that you can take over people's lives, live in their places... what does that leave you? You have nothing to call your own! "Besides, what have GNOMES ever done for the community of Neverwinter? I, for one, have never seen a GNOME worth his weight in coppers!" The word gnome pounds through P'jin's brain. Why can't I have it? Why can't I have the famed gnome intellect? WHY CAN'T I THINK? Because you depend on too many other brains to do the thinking for you. You have let your own atrophy into disuse. You are a waste, P'jin. Robitius, looking at P'jin, sends him another message: "What is wrong with you, boy? Get your act together, if you ever want to get into the Spirit Lurkers." --YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE!-- The psionic scream ripples through the council. P'jin, temporarily regaining his wits, calls, "Guards! Fetch a brain mole, we have a psionicist in our midst!" The brain mole sniffs around, and not finding anything, is taken back to its holding chamber. You recovered this time, P'jin. Next time you won't be so lucky! Robitius continues, "And with that, ladies and gentelmen, I surrender the floor to Lord Nasher." P'jin awkwardly gets up. "Ahem... Ladies and gentelmen, Wendghwait the gnome was a waste of a gnome. He was nothing better than a cheating voyeur. He deserved what he got... No... he didn't... he was a kind soul... no... I won't give in... must not let them down... must keep it secret..." P'jin can't hear himself anymore. "I did it... NO!... I killed...aaa...NO!" P'jin runs. "YOU WON'T GET ME! I WILL OVERCOME!" As Robitius so wisely put, that wouldn't be in my interest. You allow me to do two things, P'jin. I can both end it all, and I can rid the world of you. Finally, a night when I accomplished something. P'jin stops in front of a window. "NO! I WON'T LET YOU KILL ME!" Modrin races after Lord Nasher. "Surely his wiles have left him! What else could cause this?" he mutters to himself between puffs. A member of Nasher's royal guard for ten years, he had never seen him act like this. He comes around a bend and meets eye to wild eye with Lord Nasher. He hears him scream, "NO! I WON'T LET YOU KILL ME!", and he sees something which is imprinted on his mind for ages to come. Nasher turns amorphous, shifting between forms. Twisting and turning, his hand raises up, now nothing more than a slick spike. With a final howl, he plunges it through his chest, and his body falls down into the crowd outside the window. A pair of hooded gnomes watch the proceedings of the funeral of Wenghwait. "You know, my dear,", one gnome says to the other, "clones only exist so long after death. This one should be decomposing right about....... now." And as he says that, Wenghwait melts into so much nothingness. "Ah, but it served the purpose, didn't it dear?" says the other gnome, in a voice that might hint that she might have had recent vocal surgery. "Yes, we finally found that doppleganger. One of my finer works if I say so myself. Come, let's go watch." So they slip away from the funeral and into the square, where they see Lord Nasher outside the top window. He starts shifting form, and finally jabs himself with a sword/hand and falls out of the window to the crowd below. "Ah, well," said the gnome, "Like I always said- Illusions of grandeur are nothing more than the products of an illusionary mind." It was recently announced that AOLNet access was being tested with Neverwinter Nights to determine the reliability of this higher speed access method. The testing, which was quite thorough and exhaustive, has been concluded and the results are in! Therefore, it is my great pleasure to announce that you will be able to use your local AOLNet access number for faster baud access while playing. Please feel free to use AOLNet from now on and enjoy Neverwinter Nights! Wendy Barlow - NW Snowie Neverwinter Nights Coordinator<><><><><> <><><><><> Gimme a Scoop! Enter the weekly News of the Realm contest by submitting text for publishing. If your Announcement, Article, Helpful Hint, NW Abby Question, Poem, Fiction, or Tidbit wins, you'll have won your choice of 4 Pearls or Access to the GOH (Guild of Heroes)! Submit all text to screenname: NW NEWS. <><><><><> <><><><><>