[center]~~~~~~~~~~The Past~~~~~~~~~~[/center]


GooGoo paced the length of the hall outside his room. He paced often, though this time he chose a new path in hopes of gaining new insight to a new problem. There was a war to be had, but this time it was defensive. More defensive than GooGoo had ever experienced.

For years he had lived in this keep, known to the inhabitants as Bullet Proof, with his wife, children, advisors and their families, and the many well-trained (and paid) servants. The people he ruled lived in other cities surrounding the keep, though they did not know where their Lord spent all of his time. The location of the keep was kept secret to all save those that resided there and the messengers of his most trusted allies. This left his family and friends protected from the horrors of war, something GooGoo wished he could extend to all that followed him but knew he could not.

During this time Darden was good to him and the heathens had not been able to find his keep. Most of the time they were too busy ravaging the nearby cities to directly attack the small castle. It was easy for his sorcerers to misdirect the enemy and even easier to launch ambush attacks from nearby groves. The enemy, on the few occasions they entered his land, were always eventually turned aside.

The problem that plagued GooGoo now was that a heathen force flying the flag of the bitch Isonia had found his keep and began to lay siege to it. For the first time, GooGoo feared for his life, and more importantly, the life of his family and the families of his advisors. They knew the danger of devoting their lives to Darden, to chaos, but this was the first time their home was in danger, and it worried them all.

For weeks the siege had gone on. The food stores were low and water reserves were even less. For several days GooGoo had dispatched several brownies to try and request aid, but he wasn't too optimistic about breaking through the troop barrier outside. Isonia was winning, and Darden had done nothing to help them.

GooGoo stopped pacing, turned, and walked down the hall, down two flights of stairs, and through a large set of gilded wooden doors to his war room. His main advisor, Takak, was waiting for him along with his war advisor, Grodin, head sorcerer, Zethrim, and his most trusted brownie scout, Sherlal Fleetfoot. Their eyes were sunken, their faces grim. All were mirrored reflections of their Lord's. This was not boding well at all.

"Friends. We have less than a week's worth of rations left. I hate to ask this of you, but I need to know exactly what is going on. Our families are afraid of their lives. Even the children are seeing through their mother's reassurances. Something needs to be done, and I am relying on you all. I know, of course, that I am preaching Darden's word to believers." This was the most GooGoo had spoken in days that were not orders. He was afraid of what he would get for responses.

Grodin was the first to speak up. "Lord, the sentries here are doing what they can to thwart the minor attacks against Bullet Proof. They are testing our defenses, seeing where we are weakest, and I am afraid it is working. Yesterday they began concentrating their attacks on our eastern wall next to the second tower. It took nearly ten minutes to assemble sentries there and another hour to drive the diggers away."

Grodin sighed. He was not disappointed with his troops; GooGoo could tell. Grodin told GooGoo himself that they were the best men a Field General could ask for. GooGoo knew he was frustrated with the situation. Some of the men were starving themselves to feed the women and children. He had lost nearly a quarter of his sentries over the past week. GooGoo guessed that Grodin did not expect an attack from the east which is why the sentries took so long to get there. It was only a matter of time before the final assault came.

"Lord GooGoo, my men are sick. There is little we can do now, and within a week there will be none left to defend Bullet Proof and our families. I say we strike now, deal what damage we can, and create enough of a fray to allow our families to escape. We must save them. I am sorry, My Lord."Grodin placed his hands on the back of the chair in front of him and leaned into it. GooGoo knew he, too, had been starving himself to feed his family. The physical and emotional stress was visibly taking a massive toll on the normally robust man.

"Grodin, I, too, have thought of that possibility. It may work, but we both know that the bitch's forces have us completely surrounded. Even if we focused everything we have against one spot, they won't need to shift their troops at all to stop us easily. There would be no way for our families to escape. I am sorry." GooGoo shook his head slightly. Before, that would have been the hardest thing for him to tell anyone, that their family would be dead in a week and there was nothing that could be done. However, the reality of it all changed that. It hurt to say, but not nearly as much.

"Pardon, My Lord," spoke up Zethrim. "Since you have ordered me to release the shroud covering Bullet Proof I have been able to pool much elan with the help of my fellow sorcerers. If you were to try such a maneuver, perhaps it would be successful with the help of our magick."

"Yeah!" said Sherlal Lightfoot. "I's got some brownies that can be of the assistance! We'd do the backstab whilst they are engaging in the combat! With Zethrim's sorcers with the helping, it will be enough for the escaping! M'Lord Goo, me is thinking this might be with the working!"

"GooGoo," said Takak, the weariness on his face more apparent in his voice. "The bitch has us. There is nothing left for us to go but wait it out and die. I am sorry GooGoo. We've done all we can. This plan might just work, but the chances are slim to none. It is suicide. You know I am not one to be a pessimist, but you know I am one to know when his cards are worthless."

The others gave Takak a look of astonishment. Not only did he refer to GooGoo without the proper title, but what he said was a sign of giving up, something he had never done in his career in GooGoo's service.

"Takak, I understand your logic completely. It might not work and it is suicide for those that fight, but it will save our families. If we sit here, we all die when they decide to attack. If we strike them when they are not expecting and create enough of a diversion for our families to escape, at least they will live and tell others of this event. We must save them for they are our only hope of letting others know of Isonia's growing power. Her forces must be stopped before they go too far."

Takak looked up at GooGoo and sighed. "My Lord, I disagree, but I will follow your command to death if that is where you feel I will best serve you and Darden. Now, Zethrim, what kind of help could your sorcerers give the sentries? If we are going to do this, we need to execute this flawlessly."

GooGoo looked over at Takak and placed a hand on his shoulder. Zethrim looked as if he was about to speak, then stopped when he noticed this action. The others all looked at GooGoo in anticipation. He did not speak until a few moments later when Takak turned his head toward him.

"You have all served me well. You, Takak, above all. You have been my right hand and my best friend. We may all die in this, but I want you to realize that we do this for our families, for our allies, and for Darden." GooGoo paused, then spoke again one last time, "Now Takak is right. This must be planned to the letter. If all goes well we can do this tomorrow night. Let us hope the end does not come at least until the sun rises twice more."

Conversation resumed and plans were drawn. The whole time GooGoo knew it was death for all that did not escape. It would be tough, but GooGoo knew that the men in the war room, including himself, had never been more intent on anything in their lives.

[center]-------------------------[/center]

The attack started about an hour after the sun set on the next day outside the smaller southern gate. As Zethrim had promised, his sorcerers used the stored elan to wreak havoc among the Isonian troops. Wailing screams not unlike those of the banshee destroyed much equipment and ripped through flesh. The Isonian forces wavered but still stood strong after the sorcerers had exhausted themselves and their energy reserve.

The next wave then came into play. Sentries, nearly half of the remaining guard, poured out of the south gate to engage the somewhat disheveled enemy lines. Combat began, and about half an hour into it Sherlal and his brownies entered the fray, their small bodies easily fit through the fighting men. Once they were a few feet behind the enemy line, they turned and drove their daggers into the crevices of the armor of the Isonian army.

Being attacked on two fronts, the Isonian army sent word by runner to the other troops on the east and west sides of the castle for assistance. They had not expected a direct assault, and definitely not one aided with magick and brownies. An obvious suicide attack, the enemy realized their chance to crush the followers of Darden and took advantage of it. Troops from the nearby camps came and began to systematically eradicate the sentries and brownies. This was exactly as the defenders had hoped.

A spotter atop the second east tower was the first to respond. A message was sent to GooGoo that a large enough amount of Isonian troops had left the east side open, allowing for the families and a small detachment of sentries as escort to escape. Zethrim led the scared women and children and their escorts toward the small tunnel that had been built in secrecy during the day. He scraped for enough elan to cast a protection spell and was able to shroud the party with a much smaller version of the shield that had once protected Bullet Proof. With Zethrim's staggered affirmation that the spell was successful, the party hurried through the tunnel and toward hopeful freedom.

While all this was going on, GooGoo himself had climbed to the top of the second east tower to watch the escape of his family and those of his advisors and friends. He watched them dig their way through the thin crust of the outside wall of the tunnel and was happy to see that they were not spotted by any heathen forces. He watched as the sentries formed a protective circle around the families and guided them through the small field that was directly outside the castle. He watched with great joy as they made it to the small hilly forest that served as a barrier to the castle and the outside world and he watched with horror as a small force of elite Isonian forces quickly came out of the forest, engaged and killed the sentries, and stood ready to pounce on the women and children.

"No!" was all GooGoo could scream. "Damnit! Darden, protect them! Of all that I have asked of you, this means the most to me, to this castle, to your followers!" Nothing happened. GooGoo was filled with despair, and he knew that instead of helping, Darden had taken a drink from his own bowl. "Damn you Darden! Damn you for what you have done to our families! To us! To your followers!" GooGoo collapsed to his knees and wept. He wept for his family, for the lives of his advisors and followers, and for Darden's betrayal to some of his most loyal subjects.

Minutes passed before GooGoo stood up. He looked out of the tower, expecting to see a bloody mess where the families had been, but he found that the Isonian troops were just standing there. They were waiting for orders. Suddenly, GooGoo thought of something he never would have imagined. Perhaps if Darden would not help him, Isonia would. The thought was absurd, but perhaps with the right kind of motivation, she would spare his family.

"Isonia, hear me! You have my family and those of my friends, and you are about to kill them! Please, do not! It is said you are the goddess of equality, so let me please offer you a trade for their lives! Isonia, please hear me!" It may have been because he was in hysteria, or because he wanted to believe Isonia would listen to him, but GooGoo was almost positive he heard a woman's powerful voice in the wind. "Speak," was all it said, an echo in time.

"Isonia, thank you! I will offer you my soul, the only thing I have left, if you spare these women and children today! I would offer you more, but I have none. It is my greatest desire to see them live, and you are the only one that can grant that! Please, Isonia, I beg of you!" GooGoo nearly cried as he dropped to his knees. "Spare them, and you have my soul. The soul of one of Darden's most devout. He betrayed me today by leaving those lives in your hand, and I beg of you to spare them."

Again, GooGoo wasn't sure if it was said or not, but in a burst of wind he heard the same voice, "It is done." With that GooGoo fell to the floor of the tower and blacked out.

[center]~~~~~~~~~~My Story~~~~~~~~~~[/center]


Zethrim was dead. As were Grodin and Sherlal. Takak was a mindless fool that GooGoo used now and then for information of the city he now controlled for Isonia. GooGoo wasn't friends with Takak, it wasn't at all like it was before the siege. Not that Takak would recognize GooGoo anyway. No one that knew him could. Isonia had made sure of that.

Years had passed since the battle for Bullet Proof. The castle was now rubble, the rocks carted away by nearby villagers to be used in animal pens, walkways, and crude stone buildings. GooGoo's wife and children lived alone in one of those crude buildings, his sons providing for his wife and daughters. GooGoo knew this only through his scouts. He kept strong tabs on his family, making sure Isonia kept her promise and kept them alive.

GooGoo kept his part of the bargain and did what he could for Isonia. When he first tried to step out of her control, what she made him do proved to him that she had complete control over his body. She allowed him to have free will as long as he did what he could to make her control and her power greater. He fought wars for her. He sent thieves into the night searching for the lands of those he had once referred to as friends and followed those up with thousands of troops, all in the name of Isonia.

Isonia had been true to her word. His family was safe, and that was what mattered. Still, she was the same goddess he had warred against for so long. His trust in her was there, but it was thin. The scouts were sent out weekly to make sure all was well in the town by the ruined castle.

Isonia had been good to him. Not only did she keep her promise, but she even made sure GooGoo would find a home among his new allies. Whether this was actually Isonia or GooGoo's natural resolve is open to interpretation. Nevertheless, GooGoo found a small home among the followers of Isonia. He excelled at what he did, and those that were quick to call him 'child' and 'green' were soon taking orders from him. He built a reputation and found his niche in his new home.

It was not long before he actually helped one of his new allies plan and carry out a mass assault against the followers of Foret and Darden alike. To GooGoo, it felt natural, as he was used to leading. However, at times the fact that he was being forced to fight followers of Darden kept him awake at night.

The situation GooGoo placed himself in was the best he could do. In the end, however, GooGoo didn't plan well enough for the liking of fate and the gods.

Before long, other followers of Isonia confronted GooGoo and his allies about warring on a common enemy. It was the general belief that this would not work out well; however, GooGoo and his allies decided that they would do their best to help out the followers of Isonia.

The battle raged on and GooGoo and his Isonian allies were able to severely hurt those aligned to Darden, but their lives were still in great danger. Were it not for the cooperation of the Dardenites and the diplomacy of GooGoo, the war could have turned out much worse. GooGoo and his allies had been set up to take a fall for others of the faith. This, however, was not realized until a much worse catastrophe struck.

"What do you mean they resisted everything?! We had everything planned! Scout reports from our allies, attack routes from our other allies, everything should have worked perfectly!" GooGoo shouted at to the messenger. GooGoo wasn't normally an aggressive person, but recently he seemed to yell more often than not.

"B-b-b-ut M-m-m-m'Lord! Our reports say that the enemy was ready, even expecting us! They repelled the efforts of our co-aggressors and began a counter assault almost immediately after our assault was exhausted!" stuttered the short brownie. GooGoo hated these Isonian brownies. Not very intelligent, never of any use, and always bringers of bad news.

"Damn them! Damn them all! Do I have to do everything myself to make sure it gets done right? Quick! Get reports of the heathen realms yourself! Tell me everything they have, everything they are using to repel and invade. If my suspicions are correct some heads are going to roll, and they will not all belong to heathens!" GooGoo was practically foaming. He was almost positive of what had happened. That fact alone made him angry beyond belief. What made him as mad as he was, however, was the small saying he had been taught as a young child. "Tricked once, the fault be yours. Tricked twice the fault be mine."

When the brownie returned, he was reminded again of why he hated Isonian brownies. "M-m-m-m'Lord! Th-th-the r-r-reports are in! Here th-th-they be!" The brownie dropped the reports into GooGoo's hands and fled. GooGoo thought that perhaps this one was more intelligent than he had originally thought.

The reports were dire. Most of the heathen realms had more than enough troops to repel any attack GooGoo and his allies could throw at them. The reports also indicated that they had been ready for some time. GooGoo was right; he had been tricked again.

"Damn you all. Damn you all to the hottest hells. May your flesh rot from your pathetic bones." GooGoo had taken enough. Now was the time for action if action was to be taken. GooGoo planned to bring plenty of carnage to the heathens. "Brownie, come! Listen good, brownie. Get all of my troops ready, even those patrolling the town near the ruins. Everyone will help make the best of this sacrifice, our sacrifice. Foret himself will bleed this night."

GooGoo wasn't too keen on withdrawing his scouts and 'troops' from his wife's town. The troops, posing as a mercenary gang hired by the local lord to stay there to keep the peace, were their only defense, and the scouts were GooGoo's only eyes. But this was a greater need at the moment. They would be returned as soon a possible., But for now, an enemy needed defeating.

GooGoo made his way toward the Generals who were gathering at the gates of his keep, the one GooGoo many years ago had named 'Death's End'. There they would ride out, without allies, to attack an enemy they could not win against.

"Lord GooGoo!" called Krode, one of the Generals. "Our troops are ready, but the reports from our allies are not good. They send word that the enemy was ready and that their assigned targets repelled them. How are we to do better where they had more men than us?" Krode was a tough man, but GooGoo could see the worry in his eyes.

"Fear not, Krode. The reports we received before the assault were not accurate, and all the information was not given to us. But I have taken the initiative and have information that will bring us victory. I warn you, though, everything we take we sacrifice to nature. If we keep it, they will take it back, and we cannot have that. We can only hurt them; all gain for us is out of the question. I hope you can understand that. I am sorry" By this time, the other Generals had gathered and heard GooGoo's small speech. After GooGoo was done, his head General, Thromrin, nodded his head to GooGoo in approval.

"Now go men, fight for your fallen comrades and for that bitch Goddess Isonia." his men looked a little startled at GooGoo's description of Isonia, but they shrugged it off, raised their swords, and gave a hearty battle cry. They were ready to fight and die. And GooGoo knew they were going to die.

"You will pay, bitch," GooGoo muttered under his breath. "You will pay dearly for the actions of your followers. I will make sure of it." GooGoo stood there and watched his men form up for battle. He wrapped his cloak around him tighter as a chilly breeze picked up. Then, for the second time in his life, he heard the powerful female voice in the wind. "No. You will pay." GooGoo shuddered slightly, at first from the wind, then from the powerful headache and stomach cramps. He then turned his head and wretched on the ground next to him. He thought to himself that Isonia was proving she still had control. He found he was right. Again, the wind picked up and the voice came back. "Fight." was all it said. With that, GooGoo impulsively mounted his horse and rode across the field to where his generals were preparing the troops to invade the few keeps GooGoo believed they could.

[center]-------------------------[/center]

GooGoo was tired, very tired, and so was his mount. The rag-tag group of soldiers, GooGoo in the lead, wearily made their way into what once was the city surrounding Death's End. Flames licked every building, including his keep. They had managed to capture and sacrifice more than three times what GooGoo had ruled over before the war. It was a great victory, and the men applauded GooGoo's magnificent planning and methods of attack. But it came at the price of his home, their home. Isonia made him do what he did, and it was Isonia that allowed his home to be destroyed.

"Go" he said to the few men that were with him. "Go and find your families. Help them and your neighbors. They needed you to make war, now they need you to help clean it up. Go with my blessings. I will not hold it against any man should he not return." GooGoo made sure he shook the hand of every man that was there. He nodded at them as they grasped hands and walked by, and he smiled at their polite but hurried "Thank you M'Lord" and "Great thanks to you Lord GooGoo." He waited until every man had clasped his hand then left.

The trek to the ruins of Bullet Proof was a long one, but GooGoo was more than determined to see his family in person. GooGoo was afraid Isonia would again exert her control over him, but he knew she had a lot to deal with elsewhere, including the mess she literally forced GooGoo into. GooGoo was very happy that she practically ignored him during his journey.

He had traveled two days and two nights to get to the ruins, and he was exhausted when he got there, having not rested the entire journey. The sun was setting in the distance and he knew it would be yet another two hours before he could reach the town, and by then everyone would be in their homes. GooGoo searched the ruins closest to him and found a small set of stairs leading to one of his very old wine aging rooms. He descended the stairs and peered into the dank room and say nothing but blackness. He curled up into a tight ball against the wall with the stairs and fell asleep staring at the void that was once part of his home.

In the morning GooGoo awoke to the call of some roosters that had somehow wandered into the ruins. GooGoo thought they had escaped from a nearby farm away from the village, but it was still odd to see them there.

GooGoo walked over to where he knew a small stream was, refreshed himself, and ate the last of the war rations he had taken with him. GooGoo knew that no one in the town would recognize him, not even his wife and children, but he was excited to see them again anyway as his youngest son would now be twelve and nearing adulthood.

The two hour journey felt almost like nothing, the wooded path leading him directly to the town. The morning was a little breezy and chilly, and GooGoo could see smoke rising above the trees ahead, most likely from the fires heating the houses. If GooGoo was right, then the town must be getting larger as there was much more smoke than there should be for a town the size his scouts had reported.

GooGoo jogged and then ran down the rest of the path, getting very cold as the wind picked up and stung his bare arms and face. He pounded faster until he entered the very large clearing that was the town, now the charred and smoldering clearing that was the town.

“No!” GooGoo cried out. “Damn you Isonia! Damn you to a hell that cannot punish you enough! You gave me your word, bitch, and you broke it!” GooGoo fell to his knees and cried into his hands. The growing wind peaked and for the third time he heard the voice.

“You have paid. Stand” GooGoo was furious at the voice, the calmness and beauty of it.

“No! You have broken your deal, unbalanced the equality we shared. You have wronged and my soul is no longer yours! Damn you! You no longer have control over me!” The wind picked up again.

“No. Stand.” Again, GooGoo was furious with the calm of the voice. He felt the impulse to stand, but he ignored it as best he could, clinging to the void that Isonia herself created. “Stand. You cannot resist me.”

At last, GooGoo could take it no more. “No. I will not follow you any more. You are wrong.” GooGoo was surprised at himself and how calmly he spoke, as if nothing could taint the truth of his words. The wind picked up and GooGoo grinned at the now obviously angered voice.

“So be it.” GooGoo lost his grin as he felt his head explode and his stomach turn, and he vomited on the ground in front of him. He crumpled into the fetal position and vomited until his stomach was empty. Even then he heaved very hard and cried like a helpless child. He was feeling pain throughout his body that he had never imagined.

Through the pain, he somehow managed to crawl toward the structure nearest him. It was the town well, the source of life for a now dead town. GooGoo grabbed on to the edge of the well and slowly pulled himself up. The heaving had stopped, but the pain remained. GooGoo was very thirsty and he knew that if he did not get water soon, he would most likely pass out from complete exhaustion.

Gripping the edge of the stone well with one hand until his knuckles went white, he used his other hand to throw the bucket in the well. He heard it hit the edge of the well in a few places, then heard it shatter as it hit the dry bottom. The crash echoed and each time the pain in his head seemed to multiply. GooGoo lost all hope and collapsed to the ground, waiting for death and the eternal pain he knew Isonia would bring him.

GooGoo fell unconscious a few minutes later. The sun followed its path throughout the sky and set in the west, drenching everything in a red that would remind any hardened warrior of blood. It is then that GooGoo awoke.

The pain in his head had subsided greatly, the pounding reduced to a dull yet constant pain. After a few minutes of lying on the ground, GooGoo grabbed onto the well again and pulled himself up. He turned his head toward the well, expecting to see a gaping black hole mocking his every movement. Instead, he saw a bowl hovering over the gaping hole of the well. The bowl was filled to near brimming with what appeared to be water. The small breeze that had been blowing all day subsided and a dry voice spoke in GooGoo’s ear. “Drink deeply.”

GooGoo was confused, but the urge to take in the water overrode all logical thought. He grabbed the bowl firmly and pressed the edge to his lips. What flowed down his throat was flavorless and had no discernible temperature. What it did to GooGoo, however, was give him strength. More than he had felt in a very long time. With that strength, however, came overwhelming despair. Much despair. He drank the contents until the breath he took gave out. He placed the bowl back and gasped for air. He did not know how long he had been drinking, but the volume of the water had not changed.

GooGoo felt more refreshed and stronger than he had ever felt in his life. More importantly, the pain was gone. The strength he felt also held the despair at bay, preventing GooGoo from acting on it. He could sense the urge to kill himself at the forefront of the despair.

The contents also brought him knowledge. He knew his mission, what he must do. The bowl was Darden’s, and the god had allowed GooGoo to come back to him. He had allowed GooGoo to return to his service and this time with a mission. Drinking from the bowl bound GooGoo to Darden forever. It also stopped Isonia from controlling his soul and body most of the time.

The mission was what GooGoo dwelled on the most. It suited him perfectly. He was to seek out and destroy any followr of Isonia as best he could. Foret would be foolish to interfere, but should he try GooGoo was to exterminate his followers as well. Darden would give him allies. He would have them drink as well, but GooGoo would have to find them himself. GooGoo stood there until the moon came out and still stood some more, entranced by all the information he was given, all he was being asked to do, all he was willing to sacrafice for his original and true master.

Since GooGoo was aready well rested from the bowl, he started on his journey immediately. He felt a small pull to the southwest. There he would find his greatest ally and friend. There he would begin to create a group of those devoted to Darden. There he would begin to create his new family and reason for living.

GooGoo started down a small path, leaving behind the burnt city and what his life was. There would be time for mourning them later. There was work to be done now. He was with Darden again. GooGoo had a goal.

[center]~~~~~~~~~~Your Decision~~~~~~~~~~[/center]


GooGoo sits at a small, hidden table in the back of a tavern across from the audience of his story. This stranger had heard GooGoo’s tale in whole, as it was directed solely at him. After GooGoo completed his tale he paused then addressed the stranger once again.

“There are some that call me crazy. There are many that claim to be of Darden’s chosen that shun me, labeling me a miscreant and not of the true faith. They believe I saw only illusions and hallucinations. They say I use people to give myself power, that I use people like you and turn their devotion from Darden to me. They could not be farther from the truth.”

“I have seen Darden and he has spoken to me. He has chosen me to be his right hand, to be his influence on Tonan. My actions are for him and him alone. I justify my actions to no one.”

“Now you know my story as I will know yours in time. You know how I have found you and you know the decision you have made. You have bound yourself to Darden and in turn to me. You may break that bond, but you will lose our protection and the strength of the Bowl. All you will feel is despair. We have a mission. Help me, my friend, and together we will raise Darden upon high, where he rightfully belongs.”

GooGoo held his hand out to the figure in front of him. What the figure did next cannot be said, for it has yet to happen. GooGoo spoke heavily to convey the importance of what was done next. “The decision is yours and yours alone.”

Growing up in the frozen mountains of Tonan, Caylindren always liked the cold. In fact, it was his constant way of life, shunned by his peers, ignored by his elders, laughed at by his lessers. He had no friends, no comfort, no sympathy, and no true happiness. He found peace only in solitude, deep under snow drifts where others could not hear his weeping. On his worst days he cursed his parents, blaming them for his misery, but most days he simply cried himself to sleep. While this would have been death to most, Cayl was no ordinary boy, for better and worse.

As it happened, Cayl's father had been a half-dragon married to a poor widow. When his identity was discovered by the town, he was hung out of fear and hatred. The twice-widowed young woman was allowed to live, but she was forever looked down upon by the townspeople. In time she gave birth to Caylindren, a bright, energetic, healthy young boy. At first it appeared as though Cayl had escaped the curse of his father, but by the time he reached puberty, the dragon blood in his veins, though weak, made itself known. From glowing motes of magical energy to sudden blizzards, the blood in Cayl's veins made the boy an outcast. No one would go near him out of fear, and the hatred of his father resurfaced in the townsfolk. Soon it became unbearable for Caylindren to even leave his home for fear of harassment. His only escape was through the window late at night, and the only place to go was further into the snowy peaks.

His blood served him well in the cold, being the blood of the weakest of the dragons, the White. The blood kept him warm in the frozen wastes, gave him unnatural stamina, and even the ability to channel magical energy. These powers were far weaker than his father's but strong enough to help him survive in his current predicament. It took many months before he could control his abilities, but they never progressed beyond slight climate changes and small bursts of pure magical energy. While his powers became more manageable, the townspeople grew more fearful of him everntually turning against them, and he came to be seen as a great threat, one they would not tolerate for long.

One cold night while Cayl was sleeping under a frozen outcropping in the mountains, a few of his peers, seeing their chance to rid the town of their problem before they headed off to join the war for Isonia, decided to attack him while he slept. Cayl was unprepared for such a battle and fought like a wild beast, striking out with fist and foot, biting and screaming with every chance. He did not last long under the blows of his assailants, and the boys, having done their deed went back to town, leaving Cayl to bleed in the snow.

It was hours before Cayl could move again, his wounds sapping his strength rapidly. He managed to drag himself a short distance before falling unconscious. When he awoke, he was in the temple of Isonia. A priest was tending his wounds with a damp cloth, and he noticed bandages all around his arms and chest. Sitting up, he thanked the kind priest and immedaitely regretted his words. The priest, the same man who had lead the mob against his father, stared back at Cayl with cold, heartless eyes and said "Lie back, boy, for it will all be over soon. I sonia has shown me the way, just as she will show you the way." With that, he got up and walked away.

Cayl sobbed, cursing the life he lived. Seeing the altar a short distance away, he began to pray, asking Isonia what he had done to deserve such a life. Just as he asked her what the priest had meant by "showing him the way," a crash behind him caused Cayl to fall to the floor. Two large, strongly built men stormed into the temple, each heading straight for Cayl. They stalked over and grabbed Cayl's broken, bruised arms, lifting him several feet off the floor. While the pain was tremendous, the fear Cayl felt overrode any other emotion. Where they were taking him, what they wanted, Cayl didn't care. All he wanted was to die in peace, to end his misery. How close to death he would come, and how far from peace he always was...

Lying on the hard, burnt ground, Caylindren stared with teary eyes toward the clear, blue sky. It was a beautiful day, and he could smell the strong odor of the forest, vibrant and gay...

Running with the rest of the grunts, Caylindren came onto the battlefield intent on death. He didn’t care about his “brothers,” he didn’t care about his leaders, and he didn’t care about himself. Everything in the world seemed to be conspiring against him, forcing him down the path to misery and woe. The only thing left for him was the eternal peace of death…

Every body part ached, but he was only vaguely aware of the pain. His mood was so pleasant, so serene, that he wondered whether he was still dreaming…

Cayl raised his jagged sword and tore through his opponents like a madman, cutting through the enemy lines with ease. He waded into the thick of battle hoping someone would cut him down just as he was doing, but no matter how reckless he became, the enemy never managed to deal enough damage…

The whole thing had seemed so real. It couldn’t have been an illusion; he felt different, stronger somehow. Even the world looked different around him. And that bowl…

Suddenly, Cayl felt a strange pressure in his chest. He glanced down through his bloodshot eyes and saw a great sword gleaming with fresh blood standing straight out from his torso. The pain was distant, and Cayl finally felt like the end was near, the peace he sought had come. He tried to look out to see who had dealt the heavenly blow, but his eyes were too blurry to get a good look. All he could see was the symbol of Darden emblazoned on the breastplate of his foe. It was then that he realized there were only Darden warriors in his view. Isonia had been beaten this day, and forever was her hold on Cayl lost…

The bowl rested upon a pedestal gleaming in the light of the moons. It was unadorned by gilding or pictures yet remained an exquisite piece. Within the bowl was a dark liquid, occasionally overflowing and trickling down the granite stand. Suddenly feeling thirsty, Cayl picked up the bowl, sloshing the now clearly red liquid over his hands. He could feel a sense of foreboding, an inkling that someone was watching him and guiding him somehow. He drank deeply…

Soon the sounds faded, and Cayl was left alone on the field. He could not see, and his consciousness waned. Every breath became more labored. He lost feeling in his legs. He was dying. Finally. But then he saw a bowl…

He heard the sound of crunching grass, and struggled to turn his head toward the sound. Into view came a stern face, hard and determined with kind, wise eyes that seemed to know everything about him all at once. The stranger stared for a few moments, and Cayl just stared back, unsure who this man was but quite aware that he was not here to hurt him. It was then that he saw the man’s breastplate, a gleaming symbol of Darden adorning it. Strangely, Cayl felt no fear; in fact he was quite sure he was even happy to see that fateful symbol. Perhaps he had found his home after all.

Airius, son of Claudius and Reginne, was a physically built young man from the deep forests of Tonan. All of his life he had dreamed of growing up to become one of the greatest warriors of all time. The reason for this was the heroic warriors which have come from Airius' bloodline. All of the men from his family served the great Darden in there lives, and Airius knew that soon the time would be his to fulfill the shoes of the past.

On a brisk autumn evening while the sun was just rising, Airius, who had been training already for three hours, layed his eyes upon a beautiful, almost majestic, woman. Airius noticed the curves of her body as he approached her...

"Hello, I am Airius, son of Claudius and Reginne, may I ask your name my lady?"

"Avonne" the beautiful woman replied. "Would you mind helping me carry this water I have collected back to my house?"

"My services are yours to use." answered Airius as he lifted the water bucket. He then followed her to her house where he met her parents. From this spawned a great relationship between the two elves, which flourished with each passing day."

Then one day after finishing his training courier brought a message to Airius. It notified him that he was to become a liuetenant in the Army of Darden. At first he was excited to have a chance to fullfill his lifetime dream, then it dawned on him that he must leave Avonne. So the young man decided he would marry the beautiful woman.

Plans were made and on the day of the wedding there was great celebration throughout the town. However what seemed like the moment the two were officialy married, there came an ambush from the near trees. It turned out to be Isonia's troops as they rounded up everyone in the village.

Airius was filled with hate as his people were forced into barns that were eventually locked then burned down. Through all of this the Leader of the war mongers said that he would spare the lives of the newly weds and their family.

Their was a sigh of relief from the people. Then the commander grabbed Avonne from the group and forced her to kiss him. He then announced that he would be the first to sleep with her and that after he was done ravaging her he may bring her back after a week.

At this Airius was boiling hot and prayed to Darden to allow himself to fight the Leader, for there was nothing he could do since he was tied up. He prayed multiple times as he watched the stranger forcefully kissing his new wife, but nothing happened, and a despair fell over as he watched the man ride of with his wife.

As he lay in bed that night a voice was heard by Airius, " Do not worry Airius, you will have your chance to fight him" Then suddenly a figure appeared in his room. The stranger held a bowl in his hands.

"Darden is that you?" asked Airius.

"It is so" Darden answered "and you shall have the oppurtunity to have revenge on that man that stole your wife, just drink from this bowl, and I shall lead you to victory"

Airius did so and having drank it all felt a unrealistic strength come over him....he would have his revenge not just on the man, but on all of Isonia's followers as well as those of Foret.

GooGoo looked down at the boy, the target Darden had intended for him.

GooGoo had followed his instinct, the direction given to him by Darden through a tug in his mind. It led GooGoo and his men to Isonian forces and GooGoo ordered their death save the one they were here to rescue. This boy was to be GooGoo's right hand.

GooGoo bent down and leaned over the boy. He placed his hands on the boy's chest and sent his magick into the small, but powerful would he had given him. When he was finished he stood. "Stand up, boy," said GooGoo, "you should have the power now."

"He came to you, did he not? He led me to you. He knew you would be the next Drinker, the next one to taste the fatal power of his bowl. It is a glorious day for Darden and his people. Come, I will take you back to my keep and tell you my story. It is long, but one worth hearing. Then you can tell me yours. We've got a lot of work ahead of us, but somehow I know you will be up to the task." GooGoo cracked a warm smile at the boy.

A lot of work was an understatement. Already the land Darden had given him to begin his necessary work was being threatened. Already GooGoo felt more tugs in his mind, more Drinkers to collect and convince to join forces. GooGoo was almost certain this boy would join. There was something special about him that GooGoo didn't know, but would find out. He could see it in his eyes.

What the man had said was true beyond belief. Cayl did feel as though a force was pulling him, though he was not sure whether it was Darden or the man himself. There was something strange about him, this GooGoo. He seemed a man built of stone, cold and determined. However, there were times when he was so warm - such a contrast from his usual mood - that it would make you frightened just thinking about what else he was capable of.

The two did as GooGoo had said, strolling briskly to a mighty keep, plunking themselves down in one of the many sitting rooms of the establishment, and recanting their stories to one-another. Cayl was struck by the honesty of this man, and his loyalty. He knew he could trust him with his life. After a few drinks for himself, and one for GooGoo, Cayl decided this group GooGoo talked about, these "Drinkers of the Bowl," was the place he had been looking for all his life. A place where its members shared a common interest, and respected each other by their connection to Darden. As Cayl grasped GooGoo's arm in acceptance of GooGoo's offer to join, he muttered to himself "Home at last, home at last."

When Caylindren made himself known as a friend and ally of GooGoo, men and women flocked to his side, seeking protection and praise from the true god, Darden. It was hard for Cayl to deal with the rush, so many people actually treating him as a person. They knew of his origin, but it seemed they were not bothered by it. Many mothers even kissed his head in thankfulness. It was an odd time for Cayl but far more enjoyable than his earlier years.

It wasn't long before he had his own kingdom set up, ruling with a deft, kind hand. He made sure to do his best not only for Darden but for the people he lorded over. Many men enlisted in Cayl's army, vowing to fight until their last breaths. Such a show of loyalty and trust was matched only by GooGoo's bond to Caylindren and Darden. It was truly a wonderous time for. Cayl.

Perrydius, born from the devoted love of his humble parents, was boisterous in a playful way in his youth. Upon experiencing the world, as it was portrayed to him, he grew timid in his endeavors. Although this may be interpretted as an impedence to his general character, it proved to serve well during various events in his young life.

Mutual followers of Foret, Perrydius' parents never impressed upon him any religious concerns, and so he was able to interpret the spiritual world in his own manner. As a young child, Perrydius had no discerns in the realm of religion, and so unattentatively considered himself a follower of Foret. That is, until his parents were shunned by the very Entity they worshipped. They had come upon a large fortune, resulting from seemingly frivelous gambling ventures.

In a dream had by his father, Fraklius, Foret had informed about the misfortune of the people bearing the brunt of the venture. He divulged his displeasure because one family suffers, while another lives well beyond their means. Isonia, disturbed by the imbalance born of this event, directed one of her followers to target Fraklius in an upcoming battle.

Fraklius was brutally killed, at which point the murderer bellowed "Isonia! Let her name be known as the purveyor of balance."

With the death of her husband, Perrydius' mother Donra, fell deep into despair, for she lost the man with whom she shared a beautiful child with. Frustrated with the ignorance of Foret, and the archaic actions of Isonia, Perrydius could not bear to see his mother in such a state. At a moment where he nearly collapsed in anguish, something came to his mind. As if it had existed all along in the inner reachings of his mind, he saw a levitating bowl. It was almost instinctual for him to drink the contents, but he awaited reassurance. He could detect the voice of Darden, assuring him that he could relieve Donra of her pain by drinking from the bowl of despair. Perrydius, longing for such freedom for Donra, hastily, yet with an air of serenity, consumed what he could from the bowl. Seeing as Darden provided him with the ability to relinquish his mother's discomfort, Perrydius found his new savior. The one who provided Perrydius with his generous desire for family.

NicK and his familly have been faithfull servants of Isonna for as many generations as posible to trace back. NicK's father was a powerfull sorcerer and had been teaching NicK a litle bit of the ancient art, but NicK's interest lied elsewhere. He didn't want to stay at home and read over scrolls and all that boring stuff. He wanted to go and train with the men training to be in the strong and mighty ranks of Isonna. So thats where NicK spent most of his time and he became extremely skilled with the bastard sword and sheild.

One day Isonna called all the new recruits to help protect the borders from the heathen army's of Darden. Opon geting to the battle feild NicK and his camarads discovered a very discouraged and battered force of the remaining Isonna army. The Isonians had only just been holding back the Dardenites.

The next day NicK along with the new recruits and the vets prepared to defend the borders. Odlly there was neither hide nor tail of the Dardennites up till midday.

NicK was siting around a nice warm fire sharpening his sword when all of a sudden screams and yells rose from all directions. The Dardenites had used there brownies and killed the guards and had then been able to suround the Isonnians.

Nick felt a huge hit of dispair. So this was it his first day as a warrior and it would be his last.

He prepared himself to go down fighting. The heathen army's of darden came open them like a tidle wave some how in the end Nick and another boy from his vilage found themselves running for there life. They had fought there way out of the fighting and were running back to warn the people in there village.

When they got to the village they were dumbfounded by what lay before them there village was on fire and THERE OWN ISONIAN TROOPS WERE DESTROYING THERE VILLAGE.

"STOP STOP" yelled the two boys and they ran to the person in charge.

"what do you think your doing?" They yelled.

"Were detroying this village before the dardenite's get here" said the guard.

"NO I WILL NOT LET YOU DO THAT!" Roard Nick and with that he charged the guard.

the guard was much more experienced then Nick and he easily paried and then triped Nick.He held the sword to Nick's heart and was just about to kill him when an arrow plunged into his heart. And out from around all the forests came the Dardenites who met the Isonians head to head.

From the heart of the battle Nick saw a man standing there with dardens insignia. His voice filled Nick's head.

"YOU DO NOT BELONG WITH ISONIA COME WITH ME DRINK FROM THE BOWL"

And all of a sudden there was a bowl floating in front of him he took a deep drink and felt a power surge though him one like he had never felt before.

And from that day on he could feel other people that he knew he must find other people just like him that had drank from the bowl.

The tribes of Tonan had been at war now for ages. Wherever one went the sounds of war also were there. Millions had died in the carnage, and since no certain tribe had the upper hand, the bloodshed was to continue for years to come. However, there was one bright spot amongst the darkness. There had been a prophecy going around that there would be a young, powerful warrior that would aid the Darden forces in there quest for victory. His name was Rosebud, and he hailed from the deep forests of Tonan.

"It is time you must go and fullfill your dreams and those of the people" Kendor said softly to Rosebud.

"I shall serve Darden and my family with pride" replied Rosebud.

Rosebud then left to join the mighty forces of Darden, a dream that he had had ever since he was a child. Soon enough, he became a great leader in the Faith and many feared him. It could be seen that the Forces of Darden were becoming more and more powerful as the other pitiful deities became weaker. It was everything that Rosebud thought it would be, the glory, riches, and fame. One day after a major victory, Rosebud thought that he would return home.

"Hello, I am home mother and father." Rosebud yelled as he walked in the door.

However, it was obvious that something was wrong the moment he had walked in the door. Furniture was turned over, lights were broken, small fires burned in certain parts of the house.

Rosebud frantically searched for his parents. As he walked into there bedroom, he saw their corpse's lying on the bed.

"They must have been killed in there sleep" Rosebud said to himself, "I will get my revenge, and soon"

Rosebud then buried his parents then left immediately for his troops, "people will pay for this" he kept repeating to himself. On the way to his troops he saw a person in a brown robe on the side of the road. The man asked Rosebud to stop and asked Rosebud if he was thirsty.

"That I am" replied Rosebud.

It was then that the aged man took out a wooden bowl and revealed himself to Rosebud. Immediately Rosebud knew that it was the almighty Darden himself.

"Darden, is that you, it is a dream come true to see you"

"Aye, it is I, I am here to help you on your quest for revenge, take a drink from my bowl and you shall be even more powerful."

Rosebud then drank and felt the power of Darden come over him. "Thank you" he replied "Now I have something to do"

Rosebud then left for his forces with the power of Darden within him
"Soon enough the forces of Foret and Isonia will feel my wrath!"

It was a day like any other in the valley kingdom of Morguard. The lush green vegetation swayed slightly as a gentle breeze blew in from the large white-peaked mountains to the north. The sun was setting on a picturesque horizon, filling the sky with intense pink and purple hues. In the distance, a small dot could be seen from the city walls. This dot was Rosco, riding his magnificent black steed, Kronos.

It had been a long and arduous journey that Rosco had undertaken. Much had been lost on his quest, but in the end, he decided it was well worth it. As he made his way into the city itself, he realized how excited he truly was to be back home, among familiar faces and familiar places.

After securing Kronos in the stables, Rosco hurriedly made his way to the large and forboding palace in the center of the town. By now it was dark and only a few lanterns cast shadows into the night. The first to see Kronos was his mentor and teacher, Behan. At first, Behan did not recognize the colossal figure that approached the palace gates. Standing a shade under seven feet tall and weighing in at just over four hundred pounds, you would think that a difficult shape to miss. But there was something different in the way he walked, the way he carried himself, Behan thought.

Rosco! Do my eyes play tricks on me!

Behan, my brother! It is good to see your face again!

The two locked arms in the traditional Morguardian manner. It was only now that Behan noticed the considerable scar on Rosco's face.

I can see your journey has not been easy, come inside and let us discuss your travels over an ale.


The two warriors ventured into the palace, stopping briefly to converse with old friends and acquaintances along the way. The intricately carved stone walls of the palace opened up into the cavernous throne room, adorned with brilliant red and blue silks, sculptures of past heroes, and many marble pillars which lined the vast chamber. Rosco always stopped and paid his respects to one sculpture inparticular, that of his great-grandfather, Tetrel Thorhall. In many ways, Morguard owed much of its glory to this man.

When the two men made their way into the tavern in the rear of the palace, Rosco fetched a servant to inform his father of his arrival and ordered a pair of the strongest ales available. After settling into the sturdy oak chairs, Rosco recapped the details of his previous five month odyssey.

Originally fifteen men strong, Rosco led up an expedition to investigate rumours of an army amassing to the south, find out their intentions, and report back to Morguard with the details. Not all went as planned, as Rosco related to Behan;

Not more than a month into our travels, we ran across a large company of warriors and archers. We folowed them a fortnight and they rallied with a base camp of soldiers that must have been ten thousand strong. After some quick deliberations, I sent Daniel and six others to return to Morguard and warn of the possibility of war. Not more than two hours later, we were ambushed. My men fought well, but we fought impossible odds and were overwhelmed quickly. Five were killed immediately. Hector and Troy escaped, but died on the journey home.

Daniel and the others arrived safely several weeks ago, Rosco. We have prepared our forces for war! Let the heathens face us!

I fear the force that approaches will outnumber us by at least twenty to one, old friend. We will need the help of at least three of our greatest allies to overcome these odds, even with you on the front lines!

I took the liberty of dispatcing envoys to Darthan, Gutor, and Wilstad, but we can not expect reinforcements for at least another three weeks.

This is dire news indeed, as the forces behind me advance quickly. I estimate they will arrive within the week.

No more words needed exchanging between the two, a stern and uncomfortable look creeped across their faces. Rosco wished his friend a good night and went in search of his father. After filling his father in on the dire situation, Rosco took a woeful stroll towards his empty bed, knowing full well he would not be getting much sleep in the days to come.


It seemed like only minutes after he closed his eyes that Rosco heard the busy sounds of morning fill his ears, sounds he had not heard in months, and sounds he would soon be desperately fighting to protect. The next few days were filled with tedious and menial tasks of double and triple checking all the perimeter defenses of the city, as well as the combat readiness of his troops. Every detail had to be exactly right if they were to stand a chance against the imposing army that made its way towards him. After everything had been checked thoroughly, Rosco found Behan, and together, they waited.


In the distance, a horse could be heard approaching the city walls. It was a Morguardian scout, and what he had to say was soon confirmed, as the midnight sky began to glow on the horizon. It was a distressing sight, to say the least, as the entire landscape soon filled with enemy soldiers, their armor seemingly alive from the reflections of the torches. The massive army slowly made its way to the stalwart gates of Morguard. Silence followed, as the thousands of warriors awaited their instructions, now within spitting distance of Rosco and his soldiers. The quiet night was then interrupted with a shrill cry from a heathen soldier as he shouted, "For Isonia!". These were words that burned inside Rosco's very soul.

The battle that ensued was a bloody one. It was also a brief one. The city gates were over-run within the hour. Rosco's troops fought admirably, but hopelessly. Rage consumed Rosco as he fought beside Behan, cleaving enemy soldiers in half with his mighty sword. But alas, he could not win this battle single handedly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Behan impaled and before he had a chance to cry out, he was bludgeoned over the head, followed by darkness.

The darkness seemed to last forever, but it did not. It was followed by a progressive pain. Starting out as a tingling and working its way to absolute agony, Rosco was not certain if he was alive or dead. The pain eventually subsided and light began to prod through his eyelids. What he saw next would change him forever. His mentor, his best friend, lay dead beside him. His stomach cleaved open, lifeless eyes staring into the heavens. Managing to stand, Rosco continued to survery the damage that had been done. The city lay in ruins, smoke billowing out of every building, the once mighty palace reduced to nothing more than a pile of rubble. Atop a nearby bridge, impaled on a spear, lay the severed head of Rosco's father. Anticipating rage, Rosco was surprised to feel nothing. Only emptiness, a feeling of absolute futility. Staggering over to a nearby brook, he collapsed, waiting now to embrace the eternal darkness that is death.

Just before darkness consumed him, Rosco saw a cloaked figure approaching from the corner of his eye. This did not concern him, not until this cloaked man spoke to him.

Rosco, do not leave this place yet. I have reason for you to stay. I give you a choice, drink from my bowl and live to fight. Fight those who have taken so much from you. Or, do not drink from this bowl and die. The choice is yours to make.

After a brief moment, Rosco reached out and grabbed this plain wooden bowl, pressed it to his lips and eagerly drank the contents. An feeling of intense exhilartion grabbed ahold of Rosco, granting him a re-newed strength. The pain he felt left and was replaced with rage, a rage to exact revenge on those who made him suffer.

Stranger, I have but one question, who are you

I am Darden.

Sweeping his scythe in smooth tireless strokes Sariel cuts the wheat stalks quickly and efficiently. Others off to the left and right worked their own rows of wheat, all of the other workers were behind him in their rows, most do to lack of stamina. Finishing his row Sariel relaxes and leans on the handle of his scythe looking out over the field, he would help the others but he had caused anger in one of the individuals the day before.

As others finish Sariel smiles as Deaven walks over to him, the head of the farming community.

"Not everybody will get huffy by you help'in em, Vamual is the only one who takes pride in show'in how he goes about use'in his head to carry his hat and nothin else."

As the two men look over at the man in question, a man both wider and taller that Sariel, Vamual continues sweeping the scythe through the wheat with more force and less finesse than anyone else and in some cases tearing the wheat out by the roots rather than cutting the stalks. Vamual finishes last, red faced and gasping from the hard work made harder by his technique.

Sariel starts off with Deaven, leaving the Scythe behind as the men start to pick up the bushels of wheat the women had fashioned, and taking them to the barn as the last of the wheat of the season.

-later-

Sariel danced the blade of his sword about while Sharin watched from his place siting at the bottom of a nearby tree. Dressed all in gray as both of them had since time out of memory Sariel was far off dueling opponents only visible in his own mind having them run through some of the harder routines even though his body ached from work.

Sharin looked up as he popped the last of his apple in his mouth.

"You look tired, that is good, you can not expect to enter every battle with a fresh mind and body" Pausing a moment Sharin went on."And a great Swordsmen who does not know his limits will fall as sure as a clumsy one."

Stopping his training Sariel smiled at the gray haired man.

"My limit is some distance off but a Swordsman should never, No, should always have the energy to fight even among those he trusts. And we should probably get going, we are late for diner."

Walking over to the older man Sariel offers his hand to aid the older man in rising. Slapping the hand away as a coughing fit hits him, Sharin gestures to the spot next to him. Siting down Sariel focuses to learn what ever is told of him.

"You know well we are not of these people, though they have treated us well. You have been told of your past rooted in the people of the Gray Wolf. But not that . . . 16 years ago our people were wholly destroyed by the warring of Isonia and Foret. I have held this from you for some time but we will never join again with our people as I led you to believe, the people you have looked forward to meeting are no more. You will be the last of our people when I soon die, for I have nothing left to teach you. . .I know not what will come, but I know you will show yourself well, and I am very proud of you, you are not of my body but you are my son."

Rising of his own strength the old man started to limp away on his left injured leg as Sariel's mind whirled. Sariel had been taught to accept death, but their was something that bothered him. Licking his lips as he thought Sariel stumbled to his feet, and hurried to the old man.

"Master. . Father, if. . if there is nothing left of our people, what will I be when you die."

Turning to Sariel, Sharin smacked him on the head before speaking.

"Have you listen to nothing I have said. You are a Bladekeeper and a Gray Wolf and will always be so. You have nothing else to learn, so it is time for you to find your path, that is they way of things."
As he started away at a quick pace, for him, Sharin shot back over his shoulder as Sariel stood thinking.
"Now move you ass, Taleah was baking sweet rolls today and a dying man deserves both his own and his student."


-even later-

Woken from sleeping by some muttering Sariel listens until he realizes its coming form the nearby bed his father sleeps in. Moving over to the bed his father looks even smaller and sicker than usual.

"Master are you Ok."

The muttering continued as if Sharin did not hear his student. Leaning in closer Sariel heard.
". . .and by Darden's will shall all things happen."
For a few seconds Sariel continued to listen, thinking his Master had paused, but leaning closer Sariel noticed the old man's breaths had stopped.

-months later-
Stretched out next to a fire Sariel was having trouble sleeping. Wrapped in a blanket he wondered over his fate and his choices, mostly whether leaving the farm he had called home his entire life had been the correct decision. It was a late night and being early spring the cold still settled in the highlands where Sariel was making his camp under a tree. The cold kept everything in its home in the late night and the forest was very silent and still. Drifting off to a place in between waking and sleeping Sariel started another of the dreams that had haunted him since not long after he had asked Deaven to teach him of the farm's chosen god, Lord Darden.

RRRRaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrr

As the chilling roar broke through the silence and instantly through Sariel's dreams, Sariel rolled over quickly putting his back against the tree, trying to look everywhere at once. The fire had burned down and threw little light. Realizing the danger of both doing it and not doing it, Sariel kicked the fire out and let his pupils fully dilate to give him excellent night vision with the half moon to see by. Only after standing, getting cold and slowing his breath did he here more distant noises, much harder to make out then the first roar, Sariel could only tell that they were quite far off. Breathing in a deep painful breath of the cold air Sariel made a decision as he grabbed his blanket from the ground and wrapping it around his shoulder, neck and lower face. Pulling the hood down around his face to show only his eyes between the gray blanket and the gray hood, Sariel hoped farther down the side of the mountain that some of the area was open granite and that he might blend easily with it. Angry with him self for going forward to an area he didn't know the surroundings of Sariel stepped up his pace to a quick jog, Sariel followed the noises with sword unsheathed and held under his long cloak.

Expecting any moment to hear a cry giving a way his position Sariel peaked around a granite outcropping to look into the clearing where the sounds of a fight could be heard. He could net see what was making the noise, but knew what ever it was, was big, all he had to do to prove it was look at the nearby trees, the fight had come right through this area and a few younger trees had recently been pushed right over.

Carefully working his way through the trees Sariel stopped as he suddenly made out the words coming form in front of him for the first time.

arrrrrhhhhh, catch you, smash you and eat you.

Followed by a smashing noise that seemed to make the ground tremble and a voice harder to pick out and much lighter of tone.. You couldn't . . . . . a one legged dwarf . . . . ha

Even more curious now, Sariel moves forward to the tree line where he sees a huge outline of a figure. Thinking a couple of giants were doing battle Sariel looks around for another huge outline, finding none Sariel notices movement before the giant roars again and brings his club down with enough force to shake the earth. Watching closer Sariel sees something rather small keeping out of the giants reach with speed and cunning. The Speedy little thing was leading the giant by acting as a target effectively leading the huge idiot by the noise. Looking in the directing the giant and tiny form were going Sariel realized it was a cliff and that the valiant tiny giant fighter would soon have his speed nullified by a lack of room to move around in.

Taking a few deep breaths Sariel charged out onto the frozen ground, drawing his sword as he went. As Sariel got closer he realized that the large form was not wearing any cloths. Not even a giant could go about in this cold unclothed, only a troll could. . .Wishing he could call off the attack Sariel ran the last few yards and slammed the blade of his sword deep into the back of the troll's knee. Sariel pulled on the sword trying to release it as the troll roared yet again this time in pain, before the trolls leg collapse wrenching Sariel's sword from his hands. Drawing his knife and backing up as the troll turn to face him, Sariel saw that one of the trolls eyes were missing a common Warden trick to blind a troll and wait till sunrise for the troll to die from being unable to find its home away from the sun. The Wardens that tried this troll must have met with an ugly fate. Starting to take aim at the remaining eye with his knife Sariel broke concentration to throw himself side wards as the club came down next to him hard enough to raddle his jaw. Backing off to a safe distance with the troll's leg useless to him Sariel brought his knife up to defend against a flicker he saw from the corner of his eye.

The Kender slapped the knife away undangerously and started speaking.

Well don't you look just as stupid as a clean shaven dwarf. I almost had him over to the cliff, that clumsy troll would have fallen right over.

From not far away the troll started threatening with the club in one hand and Sariel's sword in the other.

Soon me be healed, and you be smashed.
Bringing down the large club to hit the ground with all its power the troll went along threatening and slamming the club into the ground.
Soon me be healed, and you be smashed.
BOOM, BOOM, BOOM,
Soon me be healed, and you be smashed.

About the second time the Kender started speaking again but so near a angry troll Sariel couldn't hear a word. After the troll's 3rd threat the ground shook continuously, not just when it got struck by the club. Looking near the troll seams and cracks appeared in the grass around the troll. Trying to swallow with a mouth as dry as a desert Sariel, grabbed the little fellow who was still talking unheard and shoved him towards the tree line.

Run you idiot!!

As the two ran the rips and cracks grew quickly in the thin grass though the troll was to worked up to notice. The cracks started to connect quickly and the ground under the troll faltered and start to fall away. As the ground gave way the troll fell into an secret underground cavern impaling itself on a crown carved in marble atop a marble statue twice as tall as the troll.


Looking at each other from their place at the tree line they shared sarcastic smiles before looking back at the spot the troll had disappeared in.

You think its dead.
Looking back at the little fellow.
I damn sure hope so.
Smiling the Kender turns to Sariel.
Aronin Thistleband at you service, slayer of trolls and hero to would-be troll slayers.
Glaring at the little fellow.
Sariel Stormsdown, and if I hadn't gotten your ass moving you would still be standing over there chittering like a magpie, what are you any way, an elf.
An angry look swept over Aronin's face.
Look at this top knot, look at this sling, I am a Kender. Well half Kender to be exact, and what are you, a cross-eyed female orc.


-Later after the victorious pair ended their argument and gained enough brass to come and look-

Walking gently the two approached the edge of the hole caused by the cave in.

Whispering Aronin spoke to Sariel.
Is this smart, how do you know more won't cave in.

Glancing at the Half-Kender he had come to respect through deeds and actions if not words, Sariel spoke back at normal volume.
What are you whispering for if the troll is laying in wait for us he can probably smell us coming, and no, it probably isn't, but I have to get my sword back before the sun comes up and turns the troll to stone. Getting a sword out of solid stone is not as easy as it sounds.
Sariel kept his mouth shut about further cave-ins, he didn't want to think about it.

Coming to the edge on there bellies the two looked into the massive cave and saw the large troll held aloft facing the sky by the large statute veiled mostly in shadows. Sariel knew it was a statute of Darden by the bowl it held in its left had against its breast. Looking closer Sariel grimaced, and stumbled back away from the edge, the trolls blood had filled the bowl. The sight of the statue, bowl filled with blood and dead figure held aloft was a scene from Sariel's reoccurring dream.

Glancing back at the Sariel, Aronin pointed to the sword still present in the trolls hand.
There is your sword, the troll still has it. I have a line of rope I could lower you down and swing you over to the side of the statue's shoulder from over there.

Swallowing hard Sariel crawled back over to the edge and looked over what Aronin was talking about and nodded his head.
-a little Later-

Swinging back and forth from the Kenders rope Sariel grabbed the edge of the shoulder and let go of the rope. Moving around to the front of the statue by clinging to the seam of the statue's armor. Sariel climbed up so his feet were held by the seam of the armor and clutching at Darden's eye lid he reached up and grabbed his sword. At that moment with the blood of the troll making everything slick Sariel's feet slipped out form under him. He held on for a moment before his hand slipped on Darden's bottom eyelid and he fell backwards into a bowl filled with the trolls blood. The world turned all black as Sariel hit his head.

Sariel did not know how many seconds went by until he saw out of the complete darkness a large bowl floating in the depths of nothingness. Knowing it was Darden's will that had brought him here Sariel thought that he probably wouldn't ever wake up if he didn't drink. Taking the large bowl in his arms Sariel leaned it up and drunk until it started to run down his chin. As he moved his arms away after finishing his drink Sariel noticed that the contents of the bowl had not gone down at all even for his deep drink.

Raising out of the troll blood with a gasp and a sputter he heard the distant voice of Aronin yelling at him to him but could not make it out. Standing in the bowl Sariel breathed over and over trying to calm down his fast beating heart. Knowing he was speaking Sariel spoke to Aronin.

I'm OK, just a little shaky After a few long minutes calming himself and processing what had just happened Sariel starts dragging his feet around in the bowl Sariel trying to find his sword, that he must have dropped, upon not finding it he again spoke to Aronin while still having trouble hearing. Did you see where my sword went.

Sariel knew Aronin was yelling at him and he cleared his head and tried hard to hear, when a Aronin voice came to his ears.

Almost die and your still worried about your damn sword, you dropped it in the fall, I heard it hit the ground

Moving over to the side of the bowl Sariel saw enough hand holds on the statue to get him to the floor. Knowing Aronin has enough rope to get to the floor Sariel throws his body over the side of the bowl holding on with his hands. Climbing down Sariel breaths a sign of relief as his feet are solidly on firm ground. Looking around in the near pitch black Sariel catches sight of something shining with moon light. Walking over to it he sees a skeleton dressed in full garb resting in a throne with his sword laying at the feet of the throne. The shine had come from the jewel from a necklace looking item around the skeletons neck. Picking up his sword and sheathing it Sariel looks at the items on the skeleton. With little though Sariel proceeds to remove some of the skeletons items, and puts them on, first leg guards, than wrist and lower arm guards, and finally a circle of jointed metal that had fallen around the skeletons neck. Unhooking it Sariel bends over letting his hair fall forward before putting the head piece on so the small gray jewel sat in the middle of his forehead.

Genocide Angel stumbles around, disoriented, not knowing why. Memory is slow. Ataxia is the current disposistion. Has somene drugged our fearless warrior? Genocide Angel seeks alliance with someone, he is weak, needs freindship, someone to lean on. Bowl takes him in, treats his symptoms. Will he regain full memory and control of his actions? Only time will tell.

For as long as he could remember Killer fought alone, ambushing the weakest warriors to make it through the times. Some days he boasts in glory and others lie wounded in defeat. But, After many moons of wondering if he would see the sunrise in the morning, or have food to make it through the next day, Killer sought comfort with a group of Warriors that would accept him and his troops to offer their services to an honorable bunch.

It was on a cold winter night, when he saw a group of warriors celebrating in glory when he approached in curiosity. Killer crept up to the bunch unarmed and offered his services to GooGoo, the great leader of Bowl. GooGoo accepted the warrior and Killer was glad to have the comfort of a group, and the relief of being able to lower his guard to sleep at night.

Twas just another battle, a long and bloody one, I have fought under many names, under many banners, wounded left for dead countless times, but always to return always seaching. This last battle, as with most, couldnt deem a winner, I looked at the carnage around me, the dead and soon to be dead lying scattered around me. The last one, I was last to again to leave the battlefield, Many would call me heartless, I did not check on my "fellow swordsman", but little did they know, that I knew of the order that I was to meet with an accident once the skirmish began, I fought not just the enemy but my own "Sword Brother".

I staggered to a grove a trees nearby and fell to my knees, just a slight misty rain began. "Betrayed, again betrayed," I looked to the sky and shouted " Is there no place for me ??" "Am I doomed to wander until I find a sword at my throat?"


"No said a voice!" I quickly grabbed up my sword and spun around, I could hardly see with the blood splattered in my eyes and the rain dripping down my face, "Who are you, have you come to face me, If so, I have tired of this battle and no long am I part of it." "No I have not come to face you, but to claim you, to give you a home where no one else would have you."

I could not see him clearly, but for some reason I believed him. "What do I have to do to win this favor, I have seen to many say they will give, but really only want something in return.?" I ask only one thing from you my weary warrior, and with that he produced a gold inlaid bowl, "All you have to do is drink." It was then I knew him, "Forgive me, but I cannot, for now I can only sword swear on my arm, breath and of my body" "For I have fought under too many banners to truly give over to one, for now I only ask that you look over those you most desperately need you and not forsake them, as the others forsakened me. In return , you will have my obiedence, my devotion to your cause, and my life to protect them and your cause if need be.


He smiled, "You will be tough one, I can see, I will take your oath for now, but do not think for moment that I will give up on your soul" "You finally have a home here though you do not know it" "I will honor your request, and we will both see that I am right, You ARE HOME!"


I do not know how long I laid there, but when I awoke, I was not at the battlefield but was in field my wounds were gone, and I felt alive, A note I found only said three words YOU ARE HOME!

The war had been fought, and I remember the words, and I smiled, yes, I had found a home. I had found acceptance, It was a hard thing to admit. I was used to being alone. I had not for a long time been accepted nor even though I did not know it, want it.


I raised the silver bowl that was left with me, I had it placed on the mantle in my hall, where I would look at it, and ponder the meaning of it. I slowly walked over and picked it up. I knew it was empty when I put it there, but now there was a red liquid filled to the rim. I raised the bowl, and a voice said, "yes drink of it and be accepted into my family". I drank deep and long.

I finally placed the bowl back on the mantle, and a strange feeling came over me. I knew where my place was and knew what I had to do. "Get the horses saddle" Tonight we ride!

Iblade

Lazaar Tii read over the contract yet again, not really believing what he saw. "Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"Quite sure." The hooded figure leaned back and reached within a cloak, pulling out a hefty pouch that clanged with the coins inside. "This will convince you of my veracity, I'm certain."

Lazaar Tii eyed the pouch warily, not willing to touch it quite yet. The journey would be a long one, but the bounty would be more than worth it, if it could be believed. The only thing that concerned him was the stretch through the mountaintops--he rarely left the desert for a reason. Still, if he could pull this one delivery off, he might never have to leave the desert again.

"All right, I'll do it. Where's the cargo?"

"I'll see that it gets to you. You just deliver it on time and keep your nose out of it otherwise, understand?"


Lazaar Tii was never quite sure how it actually happened. All he knew for sure, was that that night his wagons were empty, and the next morning they were packed full of sealed, unmarked boxes. Apparently no one had seen anything. He didn't like it, but he didn't have much choice in the matter, either. The money that had been likewise delivered as a down payment was too much to pass up.

They left the desert realm later that morning, once Lazaar Tii had been able to gather all the supplies the caravan would need for such a long journey. A month they'd been given to reach their destination, almost clear across Maxim. According to the maps he had, the shortest route he could find would take almost as long, with not much room to spare.

The first part of the journey was the easiest, one he'd done for most of his life previous. After crossing the desert, the guards quickly let him through the pass through the surrounding mountains, and it was out to the wider world the caravan traveled.

They crossed through mostly plains and forests before the trail grew more rugged, rising steadily as they neared the center of the isle. Lazaar Tii reclused himself more and more within his wagon, trying to contain all the warmth inside, even though to the others it was merely pleasant.

Two weeks passed before they reached the highest point of a long, narrow pass. Cliffs rose up on either side of the pass, and a harsh wind howled through it, chilling the whole caravan and leaving Lazaar Tii quite ill. It was nearing twilight on their first day in this pass when the disaster occurred.

Lazaar Tii himself didn't see what happened, since he spent all of his time huddled in his wagon, swaddled in several blankets, trying to stay warm. But he did hear the sudden shouts of alarm, the metal clangs as the guards tried to protect the caravan from some unseen attacker. He struggled to sit up, reaching for his sword. He had to help protect his caravan--the cargo he carried was far too important.

This weather was no condition to be fighting in, Lazaar Tii thought. Still, he managed to stumble out of the wagon, nearly getting himself skewered in the process. White flakes drifted lazily down around him--was that snow?. The battle had already broken out into chaos, though he saw far fewer caravan guards than he liked. The enemy wore the deep purple of Isonian soldiers, though he recognized little else beyond the fact that he was hopelessly outnumbered.

The last of his guards were cut down as Lazaar Tii huddled underneath his wagon, near-paralyzed with the cold and largely ignored by those around him. The soldiers quickly began raiding the wagons. "All these wagons full of gold, just like we were told, and just this measly guard to protect it, too. What fool led this caravan?"

Wagons full of gold? Lazaar Tii was transporting wagons full of gold all the way across Maxim? He gripped his sword tightly, the fires of anger and determination burning away some of the cold gripping him. He'd lost his whole caravan, and his life might as well be lost with it. Standing achily, he charged wildly at the soldier who had spoken. He tried to summon the true fires burning within him, but to no avail--it was quite simply too cold, and he had no fire left.

In truth, it was the very cold that saved him, in effect. He lost his strength before he ever made it to any of the soldiers, and collapsed halfway to the nearest. His fall forced them to finally take notice of him, however. "This must be the leader we heard about. What a pathetic creature. Let's just leave him there to watch while we take him for everything he's worth."

Lazaar Tii remembered little else after that beyond vague images of the soldiers leading all the wagons away, not even offering his defeated guards' bodies a decent burial. The cold continued to eat away at him, and he no longer had the strength to stand, let alone make his way out of the mountains. He could barely manage to inch forward, scrabbling against the rocky surface for reasons he no longer knew.

His hands came against something impossibly warm, and he latched onto that sensation, trying to draw some strength from it. The object seemed to be round in shape, and he barely managed to raise his head and open his eyes to look at it. A simple bowl, filled with some kind of clear liquid.

Now, Lazaar Tii never drank anything, and the thought of drinking water above all else quite frankly frightened him. But for some reason, he knew that this liquid would not, could not hurt him. Carefully, slowly, he brought the bowl to his lips, and drank. The last of his strength now spent, he blacked out the rest of the way, the bowl dropping from his hands, rocking back and forth, though never a drop was spilled.

So begins the tale of Deimos

In the mist of the morning, Fayen Sa'abreen crept along the bank of the Neyr, the utility of his eyes almost completely gone.

Raiding was never safe, but the group he was charged with had fared well in over three hundred skirmishes against their latest foe. The war had gone on for nearly forty years now, so long many in the city were hardly aware of it anymore. The prey the drow had chosen were the Sempredae, led by Rosalinde. It looked like an easy expansion, how wrong the Matron Mothers could be, how wrong.


Fayen and his men had skulked out of the caverns, emerging as ever, within the human's borders. Their task was twofold, the destruction of the Casa del Neyr carrier pens, and yet another attempt on the life of the ruler of their land.

All had gone well in the approach, normal activity in and around their first target and a little distraction burning off in the hayfields sent some guards scurrying off. Apparently though, one of his charge felt uneasy, voicing his disquiet and asking to go point.

A dieing cause, as was proven by the blood that dripped through soaking his Garments. Shivering from the shock as he watched his armies destroyed before his eyes, he cried out "WHY HAS ISONIA LEFT ME!?"

And thus the visions began...

"ONE!" A voice boomed through the clouds as he trembled out've fear. In the presence of any man, his legs would've been as steady as the eldest of trees. But he stood before no man. This was something greater.

"TWO!" Blood continued to drip from the holes piercing his body. His death would soon be complete. The death of his followers had been long finished.

"THREE!" The blood soaking through his garments turned orange, a most unatural color for blood. Especially the blood of a follower to Isonia.

"FOUR!" A bowl appeared before him, and his blood spilled into it, as the voice came louder still "DRINK! And I will give you wisdom!"

"FIVE!" He tasted and saw both the armies of Darden and Isonia united as one. And forets forces screamed in Rage as they were tossed from their conquered throwns, and executed one bye one.

"SIX!" The followers of Isonia tripped and fell upon their own swords, and Darden remained.

"SEVEN!" It was not over, for he could see a small cluster of purple among the forces of Darden. And among that purple cluster he saw his face.

"EIGHT!" The forces of Foret rose once again, but Isonia was no more...

He knew this to be true already. For Isonia had long ago abandoned this faithful soldier. Though it was not yet time for him to leave the faith. All he could do was rebuild, and await that fateful battle. And pray that if his visions were true, that he was indeed one of the chosen.