Feilinal al'Enthalas the Radiance of the Mists, Sunwarden of Thar-Eris

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Role

Chapter 7

|R| Thera turns, time flies, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that
|o| become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten
|b| when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the
|e| Fourth Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose
|r| in the Violet woodlands. Northward the wind blew, through the trees of
|t| the Silverwood, over the buttressed walls of Galadon. Through the rancid
| | gutters and garbage strewn streets the wind swept, cleansing the scent
|J| for a moment or two. Still northward it blew, over the sweeping Open
|o| Plains, and into the Vale of Arendyl. Rustling through the tall grass,
|r| the wind carried fresh air through an open area where to elves danced
|d| a deadly whirlwind, sparring with each other. The wind was not the beginning.
|a| There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of Thera.
|n| But it was *a* beginning.
| |
|T| I leaned on my walking staff, gasping for air. The sudden breeze
|h| brought the freshness of spring to my nostrils, invigorating me.
|e|
| | "You can't expect to beat me lugging around that tree, Feilinal."
|W|
|h| My eyes narrowed. Another of my cousins, laughing as we sparred,
|e| tossing his wooden practice dagger from one hand to the next. Of late it
|e| seemed no elf bothered with anything but these...these swords, both long and
|l| short.
| |
|O| Saving my breath, I bit back a retort, and suddenly swept my staff up and
|f| into a spinning whirl of motion. It *was* unwieldy, nothing like the deadly
| | staffs I had seen the border guards use. Each time I attacked, the dagger
|T| slashed at me again and again. Not enough to break the skin, with the dull
|i| wooden blade, but I was still stinging in several places.
|m|
|e| Changing my tactics, I feinted an attack, but then pulled back to
| | defend. I had guessed right, and the dagger came slashing again. This time,
| | due to my superior reach, I easily cracked the other elf's wrist, forcing
| | him to drop the stick he had brandished so easily. Following through with
| | the other end of the staff, I delivered another blow to the ankle,
| | and then to the elbow. As my foe dove for the dagger, a loud *thunk* heralded
| | the meeting of staff and head. The elf lay glossy-eyed in the grassy clearing.
| |
| | Bending to check on my cousin, I nodded with satisfaction. Still breathing.
| | He'd have a headache, nothing more. That was the day I decided to stick with
| | the staff.


*** Note: Bear with me, this isn't an attempt at plagiarism. My future role
*** entries will also be semi-vague references to popular books/stories.

Role

Chapter 6

|T| Now consider the tortoise and the eagle.
|e| The tortoise is a ground-living creature. It is impossible to live nearer the ground without
|r| being under it. Its horizons are a few inches away. It has about as good a turn of speed as
|r| you need to hunt down a lettuce. It has survived while the rest of evolution flowed past it
|y| by being, on the whole, no threat to anyone and too much trouble to eat.
| |
|P| And then there is the eagle. A creature of the air and high places, whose horizons go all the
|r| way to the edge of the world. Eyesight keen enough to spot the rustle of some small and squeaky
|a| creature half a mile away. All power, all control. Lightning death on wings. Talons and claws
|t| enough to make a meal of anything smaller than it is and at least take a hurried snack out of
|c| anything bigger.
|h|
|e| And yet the eagle will sit for hours on the crag and survey the kingdoms of the world until it
|t| spots a distant movement and then it will focus, focus, focus on the small shell wobbling among
|t| the bushes down there on the desert. And it will leap . . .
| |
|S| And a minute later the tortoise finds the world dropping away from it. And it sees the world for
|m| the first time, no longer one inch from the ground but five hundred feet above it, and it thinks:
|a| what a great friend I have in the eagle.
|l|
|l| And then the eagle lets go.
| |
|G| And almost always the tortoise plunges to its death. Everyone knows why the tortoise does this.
|o| Gravity is a habit that is hard to shake off. No one knows why the eagle does this. There's good
|d| eating on a tortoise but, considering the effort involved, there's much better eating on practically
|s| anything else. It's simply the delight of eagles to torment tortoises.
| |
| | But of course, what the eagle does not realize is that it is participating in a very crude form of
| | natural selection.
| |
| | One day a tortoise will learn how to fly.
| |
| |
| | Now it may seem as if this story has nothing to do with the folly of coins. That's partly true, but
| | it does illustrate that in Nature, there is no such thing as a free ride. Now here's another story.
| |
| | I was walking along a path in the forest, minding my own business, when a man asked me if I would
| | carry a package from one place to another for him. I said I would do so, for he seemed a gentle
| | soul, with no aura of malice about him. He even gave me nice, shiny coins. I could spend them on
| | wine, women, whatever I liked, he said.
| |
| | And so, I made his delivery. And I spent his coins. And then I fell as hard and fast as the tortoise
| | in the story - it seems his coins were fake. The businessmen I'd given them to discovered this, and
| | soon I was being beaten and driven away from the settlement to which I'd delivered the package.
| | Whether the man was like the eagle in the story, delighting in the trouble his false coins caused,
| | or someone who was, himself, duped into accepting them...it does not matter. A lesson was learned.

Role

Chapter 5

|T| It was an odd-looking vine. Dusky variegated leaves hunkered against a stem that
|e| wound in a stranglehold around the smooth trunk of an otherwise normal tree. Sap drooled
|r| down the wounded bark, and dry limbs slumped, making it look as if the tree were trying
|r| to voice a moan into the cool, damp morning air. Pods stuck out from the vine here
|y| and there along its length, almost seeming to look warily about for witnesses.
| |
|G| It was the smell that had first caught my attention, a smell like the decomposition
|o| of something that had been wholly unsavory even in life. I combed my fingers through
|o| my thin blond hair as my mind lifted out of the fog of despair, coming into focus upon
|d| seeing the vine. I scanned for others, but saw none. Everything else looked normal.
|k| The trees of the upper Prosimy Forest were already tinged with color, proudly showing
|i| off their new mantle in the light breeze.
|n|
|d| I looked up at the big tree in its agony of death. Gripping the vine firmly, I pulled,
| | and with sinewy muscles ripped the tendrils away from the tree.
|T|
|h| That's when the vine bit me.
|e|
| | One of the pods struck out and hit the back of my left hand, causing me to jump back in
|S| pain and surprise. Inspecting the small wound, I found something like a thorn embedded
|w| in the meat of the gash. The matter was decided. The vine was trouble. I reached for a knife
|o| to dig out the thorn, but then remembered my disdain for them. Using my fingernails, I tried
|r| to pull out the thorn. To my rising concern, the thorn, as if alive, wiggled itself in deeper.
|d| I dragged my thumbnail across the wound, trying to snag the thorn out. The more I dug, the
| | deeper it went. A hot wave of nausea swept through me as I tore at the wound, making it bigger,
|O| so I stopped. The thorn had disappeared into the oozing blood.
|f|
| | I called out for help as I started to feel light-headed. Luckily a healer of Corrlaan heard...
|T| either me, or the thud of my body as I collapsed. I awoke to the concerned face of a human
|r| female.
|u|
|t| "You must be careful, young elf," she chided. Young! I thought weakly...I'm older than she'll
|h| ever live to be! But I knew of what she spoke - I was young in my life as an adventurer. She
| | continued "When the Scions of Eternal Night visit a wood, it is frequently no longer safe."
| |
| | Smiling gratefully at her, I glanced at my hand. The wound and thorn were gone, but a sad
| | new Truth had been revealed to me.
| |
| | And the Truth hurts. Someone had to do something. That's when I realized I needed to listen
| | to the cries in my soul from the Mother. That's when I began to seek the Outlanders.

Role

Chapter 4

|N| Prey is prey.
|y| Human, elk, orc, troll - it makes no difference. Two legs or four legs does not matter.
|x| That was the first thing I ever learned and I've never forgotten it. All beings are part
| | of Nature's scheme. Each has its proper role to play in the immortal cycle of life and
|S| death, where there is only the hunter and the hunted, predator and prey.
|m|
|i| I have studied my prey carefully. I know its movements, its habits. Now the stalking is
|t| done, the trap is set. Soon the prey will enter my killing ground, and all questions will
|h| be answers, all doubts resolved with lethal finality.
| |
|S| He cannot see me, and perhaps even if he could, he would ignore me, so secure in his might,
|t| in his position of power. His status within the Imperial ranks will not save him. Every
|r| successful predator eludes the dangers posed by his prey and, once committed, strikes
|i| ruthlessly to the kill.
|p|
|e| The outcome of the battle isn't in question. He is slow, unprepared, and outmatched.
|r| Tonight he is prey, and I am the predator.
| |
|A| But a true predator chooses his prey carefully. Those who serve the Gods of Light
|s| may be prey for others, but not for me.
|s|
|a| At times, though, those who do not serve must be prey.
|s|
|s| May the Gods of Light forgive me if my aim is untrue.
|i|
|n| May I forgive myself.

Role

Chapter 3

|D| A strange traveler calling himself Smada Salguod crossed my path one day.
|o| We sat in a small clearing near a babbling brook. I speared some gafferfish
|u| and we roasted them over a fire, filling our bellies and sharing stories.
|g| He told me several stories, each one more odd than the last. Of particular
|l| note was the story of how he bested several hideous beasts using only a
|a| towel.
|s|
| | The traveler claimed to be writing a traveler's guide. He kept looking up to
|A| the stars, musing to himself. When he was not paying attention, I stole a glance
|d| at one page. It read:
|a|
|m| Thera: Mostly Harmless.
|s|
| | We told stories and shared company deep into the night, until I drowsed off.
|H| When I woke up the next morning, the traveler was gone, leaving only a little
|.| message scrawled in the dirt near the brook:
|G|
|.| "So long, and thanks for all the fish."
|T|
|.|
|T| This particular incident broadened my horizons, and taught me to look beyond
|.| what was right in front of me. It made me realize that my "big picture" is but
|G| a tiny dust mote on the grand painting of life.
|.|
| | It was that day that I began to search for the temple of Lady Baerinika.

Role

Chapter 2

|J| It was not long after I became Sunwarden of the Refuge. Marked by the Lady of the Spear, things
|.| were going very well for me. I was generally happy, though I did not walk around grinning like an
|R| idiot or any such thing. No, I merely found myself more at peace than I had been in a long, long
|.| time.
|R|
|.| I sat under the shade of a tree, enjoying a brief moment of rest, chuckling to myself as I smoked
| | a pipe and watched two halflings attempt to fish. I say attempt because they "caught" a fish that
|T| was larger than them, and one of them got pulled underwater.
|o|
|l| I perked for a moment, wondering if I should offer aid, but within a short time a soaking wet
|k| halfling pulled himself ashore. He collapsed onto the beach, breathing heavily. He would be fine, I
|i| knew.
|e|
|n| Barely taking time to catch his breath, he began to gaze at something clutched in his small halfling
| | hands. It glinted in the sunlight momentarily, and I could tell it was something metallic. The other
|T| halfling came rushing to his friend's aid, but was also suddenly transfixed by the bauble.
|h|
|e| I went back to my pipe, gazing at the clouds, as the halflings didn't seem to need my aid. Lost in
| | a lazy daydream, I smiled as the thoughts of a beautiful elven lass and her shapely curves made me
|L| feel the heat of - wait, what was that?
|o|
|r| Shouting. The two halflings were suddenly scuffling about. By the time I could discern that this was
|d| not merely playful wrestling, one of them lie dead. The other one shouted in triumph and held aloft
| | what was clearly the bauble.
|o|
|f| He started, glancing in my direction, as I stood up in shock. Halflings killing halflings? Over a
| | trinket found in a river? Something was amiss. These two had been close friends, and clearly peaceful
|t| innocents.
|h|
|e| I started to move, to investigate further, but the halfling suddenly seemed to vanish!
| |
|R| It was on this day that I decided that one of my policies as Sunwarden would be to not bring any onto
|i| my branch of the great Tree of the Refuge who could not pledge to never go into combat with those who
|n| follow the True Gods of Light with murderous intent. Fight, yes, but try not to kill. Yes, even ...
|g| dwarves. And conjurers. You see, it is far too easy to stray from the Light, in my eyes, if you do
|s| not put aside temptations to slay those who are your enemies.
| |
| | Long have I searched for a certain bauble myself. Extremely rare it is. I found it recently, around
| | the neck of my "enemy", Inglor, of the Blood Tribunal. He is a fool, to be sure, and clearly in the
| | wrong to provide shelter within his beloved cities to dark sorcerors and their ilk. But should he die?
| | He is a champion of Goodness, and would stand at my side against the forces of Hell, or a Lich, or
| | foul dragon. Surely I could use many excuses to end his life. He is a Paladin, who many of the Tree
| | see as an enemy to the Mother. He serves the Blood Tribunal, a band of fools who propegate much which
| | I despise. Fell him, and take the bauble I wish. That would be the easy path.
| |
| | To darkness.
| |
| | This policy may not be widely appreciated, but I have been given the power by the Ancients, and they
| | see within my heart. If they dis

Role

Chapter 1

|C| Turkish delight. Yes. That's what it was.
|.|
|S| Hrmph. Let me back up a bit. I can explain.
|.|
| | I was offered many things - gifts, riches, knowledge, power. All by one who possibly could provide them,
|L| an Imperial shaman named Klurak. All he wants me to do, it seems, is stop hunting him, stop taking his
|e| life. I do so, of course, in the name of the Mother (for he is a duergar, and an Imperial), and in the
|w| name of the Lady Baerinika and the rest of the True Gods of Light.
|i|
|s| I could not, of course, accept his offer. But I was reminded of a story that someone once told me, of a
| | similar offer. A smaller offer, for an even more foul deed. Yet that offer, so cleverly cloaked, was,
|C| unfortunately, accepted.
|h|
|r| The story goes that a young man named Edmund met a beautiful, albeit cold, woman, who offered him a bit
|o| of a treat. Turkish delight, it seems, tempts the hearts of young human males. All he had to do to get
|n| more was bring his brother and two sisters to this woman.
|i|
|c| So great was his lust for more of this Turkish delight that Edmund schemed, and plotted, and eventually
|l| betrayed the trust of his own siblings in an attempt to curry favor with the woman.
|e|
|s| Sadly, the woman turned out to be an evil sorceress of immense power. Of course, once he learned this,
| | Edmund was aghast at his own actions. He was, after all, mostly innocent. A good boy gone the wrong path.
|o|
|f| Luckily, in the end, all was put right. Edmund asked forgiveness of his siblings, and was granted it. A
| | powerful and benevolent magical creature made a great sacrifice, and the evil sorceress was destroyed.
|N|
|a| No, Klurak, I do not think I will accept your Turkish delight. You do not ask me to betray anyone, except
|r| myself, the Mother, and the True Gods of Light. But that is enough.
|n|
|i|
|a|

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