Lasentia Silvermoon the Grand Mistress of Artistry, Sapper-Trained Desert Marauder

Role

Chapter 18

The dwarf god began to grumble, as time passed and little was transpiring.
Lasentia was walking behind the orcs, hearing the grumbling of the irate
dwarven god.. An opportune moment. She grinned as she no longer shielded her
companions from her voice. Into sleep they all fell as she sang to them, but
before she could continue the concert they were forcibly woken. She stepped
away, smiling as she heard the sounds of battle. The group had turned on
itself. As inevitably it had to. She smiled as she walked through the sands,
calming the native creatures, listening to the chaos she had wrought upon
them.

The hours drew on, as did the battles. One by one they all fell, until only
two remained. Plias, and Lasentia. When they happened upon one another they
knew this was to be it. No more running. No more hiding. In truth Lasentia
knew the match favored her, but Plias stood his ground and fell with honor
before her blade. As the final strike landed, she glanced to the perch. The
radiance of the Hammersong was still there. And in an instant she found
herself before him.

He was laughing. At her. Of all who entered the desert, it had been Lasentia.
The skaljd, as he put it, the lowly elven skaljd, had bested them all. He
spoke at length with her, helping her to understand what really had just
transpired within her. The teachings of the Hammersong came to her, and she
was thankful. For the teachings. For the insight into herself. But mostly for
the chance to learn about herself. She had been forged into something more
without ever knowing it.

The Hammersong nodded to her one last time, a sign of respect he reserved for
those who had proven themselves before him. And right before he returned to
his forge he turned and winked at her, and she saw it. It was something so
very familiar to her, though it had been ages since she saw it last. From the
dwarf that had saved her almost a millennium ago. She had never known his
name, but for the briefest of moments she thought he might have been the
Hammersong. She smiled, knowing it was far more likely one of his priests.
Setting her on the path. And now, she had proven herself before his patron.

She picked herself up with newfound strength and courage coursing through her
body, smiled as she glanced over the wastes one final time, and set off for
home. There was a story here, one she must write. The last one she ever
would. The tale of Lasentia Silvermoon, Grand Mistress of Artistry, Sapper
trained Desert Marauder. The last of the Crescent Shadows. Hers was the last
tale she needed to tell.

Role

Chapter 17

With a rumbling in the sky, the unmistakable image of the Hammersong could be
seen, beckoning the elders of Thera. Two emerald hued eyes gazed to the
southeastern sky through wisps of silver hair, a wry smile across her face.
Lasentia quickly made her way to the gathering of Theran heroes and legends,
knowing when the Hammersong holds sway, there is always something of
interest. She had been prevented from seeing the last challenge of his, she
would not be denied this time.

Many answered the Hammersong's call: Cala, Harbinger of Thar-Eris, along with
the cloud druid Balta. Gutulk, chieftain of the orcs with a lackey, Dugha.
Shiloh, the unholy priest, along with the Dark elven healer Plias. Two
storms, Vourecourl and Svuusk. Adach, the shapeshifter, and Jesmeus, a
conjurer, rounded out the participants. Amidst them all, the Hammersong. His
voice bellowed out there was to be a challenge, a free for all contest in the
Barren Wastelands below him. Use whatever strategy, whatever ally, whatever
means... to be the last one standing.

Lasentia asked if she might record the occasion, but the god merely sneered
at her. He told her that if she was there, she was going to participate. Same
as all the others. She curtsied before him, with little choice but to accept.
She glanced over to the orcs who had enlisted Shiloh and Plias. It was them.
They would be the threat. A threat she could delay by helping them until the
right moment. And so she did.

With a bellowing voice Thror let the event start. The heroes charged into the
Wastes below, and the fray was immediate. But foolish were too many, thinking
alone they could survive. The Storms and Balta fell first. Cala remained
hidden somewhere in the sands, while Jesmeus hid in an alcove, biding his
time.

The intensity of the fray lessened quickly, as it became a search for each
other in the sprawling sands and wastes. All the while, looking over the
wastes from his perch with a slight grin on his face sat the Hammersong.

Role

Chapter 16

Lasentia walked out to the Lyceum, finding a place where she found comfort.
Her life was weighing heavily on her, and her own anger for having failed
herself and her friends far too long. She had set out to write. That time had
finally come. All the stories she held were still with her. She had clung to
them, as if to let them go would release her of her own worth. But she could
not any longer keep them. Less she take them to her grave and they be lost
forever.

The tale of the Crescent Shadows. The tales of Ckath, the demon emperor,
Knacnar the Commander of Battle. Borkahd, the Immortal Warlord of Battle. The
song of her brother Charlee, Telene the fallen Nexan she loved. The tale of
Jindicho the thrice cursed. Corvalah and Sarenata, Mayael and Magthyra. She
remembered them all. She carried them all with her. But they were not hers.
No, they belonged to Thera, and she no longer had a right to keep them.

She sat at a small desk, taking out a golden pen and some parchment. These
stories were ready, she was ready to share them. They may never be published,
but she would know their worth was in the writing, not the publication. It
was for the Heralds and Lyceum to judge what remained in the archive, it was
for her to put forth the submissions. She chuckled. She was a herald,
perhaps. Perhaps not. Iunna long ago told her any one can write. Being a
herald is about something more. She had always known that on some level she
was not a true herald, for she was not an inspiration to Thera. She was
simply an elf in love who frequented the Inn.

It was liberating almost, to have this burden off her as she began writing
the chronicles. Let the heralds and immortals view her writings. Let them
find their own merit in them, do what they wished of them. Her pages were
scribbled quickly, such was the eagerness of her to let it out. It may takes
days, weeks, months, but at the end, she would be finished. And only then
could she finally go to pay her last respects to the nameless dwarf and the
fallen Crescents. She knew Issandril would have been proud of her. That
Telene would understand why she must go. And she knew that when her soul
rested back in the wilds for eternity, it would be having lived the life she
wished.

Role

Chapter 15

Time had taken its toll on Lasentia. Her once chestnut hair had faded into
light silver. She still retained her beauty, a gift of her elven blood, but
her hair belied her age to any who knew her long ago. Almost a millennium had
she been alive, and yet it had seemed almost fleeting before her. Such was
inevitable with the taking of a wife, time with friends good and bad, and
countless adventures she could still recall. She had but only blinked it
seemed and the time from Issandril's death to growing old with Telene had
passed.

The Inn she called home had known no shortage of heralds, but few walked its
halls now. Her brother Charlee she'd not seen in many moons. Uial had
returned, but her attentions were to rebuilding the Heralds. Braell was
randomly about, but she had never felt the kinship with him she had with the
others. Telene was at her side still, but she knew Telene could not help her
understand her place. She adored her, and Lasentia never regretted a moment
of their time, but old age brings the musings of one's place in Thera. Of
one's mark, if one has left one at all.

She never answered Iunna about her place among the Heralds, perhaps because
she knew she never truly belonged. She was merely a transient in need of a
warm place to stay, a place perhaps where she grew too comfortable and had
forgotten who she truly was. The last Crescent Shadow. She wore the crescent
clasp still, now tied with a ribbon of Telene's color. But she was soft. She
did not steal anymore. Did not tease people for her own amusement. She merely
idled along as history passed her by. She began to remember though, her past
when she had been far different.

A slight smile came to her as she recalled swindling the dwarves, of the kind
dwarf villager who saved her once and who had been the closest thing to a
father besides Issandril that she had known. That dwarf had long ago perished
no doubt, returning to the stone just as he had said. And she had never even
asked his name.

At that thought she felt a small crystalline tear form and trickle down her
cheek. That was just it. He was gone. They all were. Her past no longer
existed, only she did. The embodiment of those memories. And when she died,
all traces would be gone.

Role

Chapter 14

Lasentia sat on the balcony, looking out across the waters of Loch
Terridian, rambling to herself about the situation with Telene. She failed to
notice the presence of Iunna as she rambled, but the goddess there Lasentia
had much she wished to speak of with her. When the discourse began between
them, Lasentia still bore a mark of resentment towards the goddess over
Telene. And for all Lasentia's words, there was always a response, one's
Lasentia did not always wish to hear. As she listened she would come to
understand what Iunna was saying and more importantly why Iunna was saying
them.

As much as she did not wish to admit it, Iunna spoke only spoke with
the truth and wisdom Lasentia was hiding herself from. She had changed, from
an aspirant writer to a woman obssessed, caring for Telene alone. As Lasentia
spoke of Telene, how she would never sing again, Iunna looked at her, puzzled
to a degree almost, by how consumed they had become with one another. But
Iunna was right, about both of them. The words were not easy to hear, but
Iunna bore no reservations about speaking her mind, and Lasentia knew most
all the goddess said was true.

Iunna shrugged off much, more at ease and calm than Lasentia would
have expected. Then the goddess inquired about Lasentia's place among the
heralds, letting her know she did not have to remain, that to be a herald
means so much more than a place in the inn. What stuck out to Lasentia was
Iunna's remarks about the inn, how it is just a place, that what heralds were
supposed to be was something more, and how often it was heralds forget that.

The flash of light from her departure left Lasentia alone once more,
pondering exactly how she had gotten here. And what was more important now,
was where she was to go. Perhaps Iunna was correct, she should learn to
celebrate what she has while she has it, and not worry about anything else.
Iunna had not comforted her any about what was to come. She did remind
Lasentia of what life should be about, what Lasentia had desired to become,
and how far away she had gotten from there. The decision was now before her,
to remain a herald. And for now, there was nothing more pressing that she
would need to answer than that. She would stay away from the Inn until she
knew for sure if she truly belonged there.

Role

Chapter 13

The night air was damp that evening, as Telene and Lasentia sat in a small
alcove in the woods resting from their travels. Their slight exhales caused a
small mist with each breath, catching the full moonlight in a rather
enchanting manner as it dissipated. A moment of rare peace for them both it
was. Lasentia slowly placed her head on Telene's shoulder, wrapping her arms
around her. It had been wonderful to find her and be with her and each day
she counted a blessing.

As they spoke casually Telene became a bit more shy, and seemed hesitant in
her words. Lasentia sensed what was coming, but she would not interrupt, as
she found Telene's hesitance rather beguiling, a change from her normal
demeanor that showed a rare softness in her. Finally the words came "Will
you.... marry me?" Lasentia looked up into her violet eyes, pausing for just
a moment before whispering "Of course my love." And there it was, a simple
exchange of words, and it was done. Before long they fell asleep in one
another's arms, knowing that it of course had not really changed anything
between them, as they would always be together from that point forward.

As they made their way home, Lasentia's mind wandered. She wished to find
something for Telene, a clasp perhaps, like her own, but she knew not where
she might find one. More importantly, she wished to have part of her soul
forged into it, that it might always protect her. It would be no small task,
but she had heard of Masons long ago who could mold rock and earth. Perhaps
she would start there, and search for one who could mold for her what she
wished. Telene had given up much for her, she had decided to leave her place
in the Island for her, almost assuring she would never know the thrills of
magic as she once had. Such a sacrifice could not be hers alone to make, and
whether wished or not Lasentia would have this crafted for her somehow.

She hugged Telene tightly at that moment, with an impish smile only she could
see on her face. Telene may not wish it, but she was going to have it just as
she would someday learn the gifts of magic. No matter the price, Lasentia
would pay it to see her wishes fulfilled just as Telene had done for her,
even if it meant returning to the Gods themselves and offering herself to
them.

Role

Chapter 12

She walked along the path until she stood before the Celestial Flames, the
glow from them danced across the area at a fervent pace. Telene sat at her
side, as she slowly knelt down. Perhaps a foolish notion, but one she could
not bring herself to pass up. Her mind echoed her prayers to the heavens "I
call to the vision thatg graces the dreams of all leaders of thera, past and
present." She waited, expecting no reply, not even a glimmer of notice. But
her heart rate had quickened, for to disturb the Ebony Warlock at all might
cost her her very soul. A large price for the chance, but she had to, a
compulsion to see the true shaper of Theran history.

Seconds passed as an eternity, but she would not move. Telene went back
inside, leaving her to the flames. She then laid out the three drinks Charlee
had crafted, and she again prayed, to make the offer. Again time stood
still, but in a moment she felt the presence of something terrible and
awe-inspiring all at once. It was the Dark Dream. The presence alone covered
her, shielding her as she drew her hand through the flames, mesmerized by the
slightest presence of the divine.

Telene sashayed back to her, beckoning her return inside. But she could not,
would not yet, and she asked her a moment alone for the time being. Annoyed,
she left, and she knew Telene was upset. Though it pained her such to do it,
she owuld not risk her in the Dream's presence. She whispered that someday
she would find him, the Ebony Warlock, even if it would cost her her very
soul. At the edge of her vision she saw it then. A dark finger ran along the
blade of a massive axe, a voice filled with the power of the divine whispered
into her ear... "Not today."

Hours passed, as she lay frozen from the presence. The moments had been
brief, but they were seared into her, such was the presence of the immortal
lord. Her legs buckled slightly as she stood, slowly walking back to the inn.
She whispered to herself his words, and smiled. There would be another day.
She would see to it no matter the cost, that she find the Dream once more, to
learn what he alone might know. And she would preserve it for all mortals,
that they might know who it was that had truly shaped the realm they walked.

Role

Chapter 2

A few weeks had passed, with the money from the dwarves dwindling it was time
once more. Lasentia nodded to her three companions as they darted off into
the woods. She would find a suitable site close enough to the road to set up,
knowing they would never be far from her side. She found a small cleared spot
surrounded by tall trees near the crossroads sure enough to attract attention
of a weary traveler, it would have to do though it was a bit too frequently
traveled for her taste.

As the setting sun's light faded into the blackness of night she took a
moment to glance upwards. No moonlight, a new moon it seemed. She began
singing softly to herself, watching th dance of the campfire's flames almost
in rhythm with her voice. As she sang she glanced up to the trees, a small
smile playing across her face as she continued her soft song. .A fine voice
you have, elf.. Lasentia's eyes darted to her left to see a figure dressed in
dark clothing, without missing a note. "Sorry to interrupt, but I saw the
fire and wished a moment to rest my legs, if you would not mind of course."

Lasentia nodded to him in approval. As he walked near the fire she thought
she caught sight of something in the shadows behind him, but if she had she
could not tell for sure if it was real or imagined, an illusion of the
firelight. "I do appreciate the song, but come, take a moments rest and sit
with me, perhaps enjoy a drink." His voice was warm, friendly even, and
without a thought as to why she ceased her singing and walked over to the
fire as the man sat down and leaned against a nearby rock and opened a bottle
of some liquid. "You know, it's nice to see an elven woman out here, the
roads can be rather lonely at times." The man smiled at her as he offered the
bottle of wine, she could not help smiling back as she accepted. They passed
some time speaking, before the man's eyes drew closed and he finally fell
asleep.

She stood up and stretched a moment before looking once more at the man, who
was sleeping peacefully against a rock. A job was a job and this man, however
nice he had been, still had a few things she could see that might be worth a
fair bit. As she drew close she stretched out a hand to lift the man's purse.
An unfamiliar voice whispered from behind her into her ear "Savor these
moments elf, for they will be your last." Her eyes widened as the burning
sensation of an iron blade's tip pressed against her back and she saw the
man's mouth curl into a malicious grin, his eyes never opening.

Role

Chapter 1

Lasentia took a moment to glance up at the full moon. Hopefully a sign of
good fortune. The light provided by the small campfire was almost consumed by
moonlight, but it would suffice. As she leaned against a large oak tree
her ears perked at the sound of travelers coming down the nearby forest road.
She began humming a little tune to calm her nerves, one of her hands retying
the ivory ribbon through the crescent moonstone clasp holding her hair in
back. This part was always enough to keep her on edge, no matter how many
times they had done this. The faint draw of a bowstring she could barely hear
as she waited, but she knew it was there. The footsteps were loud enough, it
was two sets she heard, tromping heavily enough that they clearly did not
care if they were heard. The travelers caught sight of the fire and
approached, carrying on in a loud if not somewhat inebriated tone. Dwarves.
Probably crusaders heading to the basilica. She smiled a little as they drew
closer. This would be easier than she hoped.

Without much of an introduction the dwarves stomped up and threw their packs
to the ground, settling by the fire. If they noticed the elven woman standing
there, they did not say, too caught up in their debate over who brewed the
best ale in Akan. After a few minutes one nodded to her, as she had caught
them making glances to her they thought her elven eyes had not seen. Seeing
her friendly smile when she caught his glance with her own, the dwarf let his
grip loosen on his axe. Within an hour the two dwarves were sleeping, the
first dwarf's promise to stand guard falling way to the sweet bliss of sleep.
The faint songsshe sang and the ale consumed no doubt aided him to sleep.

She ceased her singing when she could tell both were deeply asleep. She
waited a moment and then glanced up to the oak tree and nodded. Without a
sound three other wood elves landed on the ground next to her, each bearing a
crescent moonstone clasp somewhere on their person. Issandril, leader of the
Crescent Shadows looked over the dwarves and a few of the empty bottles.
Though centuries older, he still had a child like innocence about him that
was undeniable. "Well done Lasentia, but next time don't let them drink so
much of the ale, less there be none left for us to steal." he said with a
wink. A few moments later the four were gone, with a few of the dwarves'
choice valuables and the few hefty bottles of that fine dwarven ale that
remained.

Role

Chapter 3

Lasentia's vision clouded over from the searing pain as the blade plunged
into her back. But the dagger did not go deep before she heard the rushing of
air through feathers. The assassin heard it too however, and managed to jump
back. Two arrows flew into the air occupied a moment earlier, a third
managing to bury itself in the thigh of the assassin as he rolled back. Three
elves came down from the trees, blades drawn. The assassin had rolled back
and assumed a defensive stance, having drawn a black shortsword from his
belt, the dagger now in his off hand. The man had not moved however. He just
sat there, eyes closed, grinning.

In a flurry of steel and flesh two of the elves struck instantly for the
assassin as Issandril tried to rouse Lasentia to her feet. Her vision cleared
somewhat, as she heard the sounds of fighting behind her. Her companion
managed to get Lasentia's arm around him and lifted her to her feet and she
found she could stand on her own. As she looked over she saw the two elves
had the assassin surrounded and were pressing in. Seconds later she heard the
sounds of pain and death as strike after strike tore into the assassin. And
laughter. Terrifying laughter. She turned her head back to see the man
standing now, laughing as the two other elves turned from the dead assassin
to face him. "Pathetic that one. Bested by a pair of elves." His voice was
cold, emotionless, and enough to cause a shiver of fear in Lasentia. The cool
night air grew still, but the energy in it was unmistakable.

A heartbeat. Two. Three. The two elves stood with their blades ready waiting
for him to move. Issandril had backed Lasentia behind him with one arm, his
other other kept a blade between him and the man. There was little time for
him to react however. The man's left hand whipped up drawing a blade from a
hidden sheath and knocking aside Issandril's sword. From nowhere a ball of
ice manifested and slammed into Issandril and sent him sprawling backwards
onto Lasentia. The other two elves lunged for the man with the motion in an
effort to save them both.

Issandril forced himself back to his feet, a large wound on his chest. His
gentle voice now stern and his breathing labored "Get up Lasentia." She could
see the other two elves fighting the man, but they were badly outmatched and
each already had numerous bloody wounds on them. She watched in horror as the
man knocked one elf to the side, and swung his sword back across in a counter
arc that caught the second off guard, slicing through his torso. "They may
die, but you must remember the sacrifice they make. We shall honor them for
what they do for us, though our fate may soon be joined with theirs."
Something was different. Issandril was no longer acting like the doting old
fatherly elf she had always perceived him to be. There was a spark of
something intangible in him, like a memory long forgotten now recalled.

Role

Chapter 4

Lasentia managed to stand, the pain of her injury lessened by the presence of
Issandril's own determination. They looked on as in a whirlwind of dark steel
the two elves were gradually torn asunder by the man's frenzied strikes. Ina
moment their lifeless bodies collapsed at his feet and his eyes turned to
them.

Lasentia's hand drew the shortsword she carried, managing to get a firm grip
on it despite her injury. She moved to take a stance but felt a familiar hand
hold her back. "Lasentia, this will not be your fight." Issandril's eyes
never left sight of the dark man, but his voice was steady and calm, an
impressive feat given his injury and the apparent dire situation they were
in. "I will buy you the time you need. There is yet enough life in these old
bones to see to that." As the aged elf dashed forward towards the waiting man
his crescent pin seemed to flare with energy, a reflection of its owner's
will.

A ball of fire conjured from the man's hand flared towards the elf and
sprayed against him, but somehow the elf charged through it, the burns not
slowing him a step. The man than dashed forward and the two clashed in a
spray of sparks as swords struck against one another in a dizzying series of
strikes. Lasentia could only stand and watch, awed by the elder's prowess.
"Leave here Lasentia, NOW!" Issandril's voice was consumed with rage, enough
to jolt Lasentia back to reality. A moment too late, as another ball of fire
exploded against her chest.

The air was hot in her lungs as she coughed to get the smoke and smell of
burnt flesh out of her. She crawled towards the brush, moving as fast as she
could from the sounds of the battle. She crawled through bushes and tangles
of thick vines, pressing herself forward with the energy panic and the fear
of death had instilled. For minutes she went, until the sounds of the battle
were gone from her ears, perhaps from distance, perhaps because it had ended,
she could not tell. Two of the Crescent Shadows were dead. Likely Issandril
as well. With that thought her body collapsed to the ground and she passed out.

Role

Chapter 5

Lasentia was roused to consciousness by a hand shaking her awake. As her eyes
opened she expected to see Issandril standing over her with his warm smile,
but the unkempt beard dashed any such hopes. "What in the ells yah doing ere
elf?" The dwarf's voice was filled with confusion. "Yah be thinkin this a
fine place fer a soddin nap?" He took a moment to swig some liquid from a
large tankard before continuing. "Were yah in better shape, I'd a booted yer
arse out a ere already instead ah avin tah waste me time fixin yer sorry arse
up enough tah get yah wake nuff tah ask ow yah got ere."

Her eyes looked over her body, noting linen bandages having dressed most of
her wounds. She began to speak but the dwarf cut her off. "Little elven girl
nappin in dis holy place, ells I seen it all now." She had no idea where she
was, which seemed to calm the dwarf some. She found she barely noticed her
injuries as she sat up and told the dwarf what had happened, the man and the
deaths of her two friends and how Issandril had saved her. She asked if the
dwarf had seen any other wood elves near by. "Nah, none livin least I could
see. Jes a few corpses not far off near the road, dey might ave been elves,
but dat bloody mess made it ard tah tell what was what. Ah counted four
though only three looked tah be elves. Takin they were those friends ah yers
yah mentioned."

The dwarf hoisted his tankard once more and took a long drink before offering
it to her. "Ave a drink, tah honor yer fallen comrades, be the best ah can
offer yah fer what yah been through" She managed to her feet and took down a
swallow of the thick ale. "Now den elf, be bout time yah make yer way out ah
dis place, be nothin fer yah ere." She looked over the battlefield, nodded
once more, and allowed the dwarf to lead her through the thickets till soon
they were once more on the road. "Suggest yah get yerself tah Arkam, mebbe
learn ow tah better take care ah yerself, less ah wind up avin tah bandage
yah up again next we meet." The dwarf winked at her with a degree of kindness
that caught her off guard, then turned and began trudging off down the road.

Lasentia looked down the road towards Arkam. Her thoughts only went over her
fallen friends. Her hand stroked through her hair, finding her Crescent
Shadows clasp. Issandril had given her it when she had joined them, saying it
was a token of good fortune for those who thrive in the night. Foolish to
believe, but it comforted her now, to at least have something to remember
them by as she walked alone towards the city towards a new life on her own.

Role

Chapter 6

Mastery of her craft had come slowly and not without cost, but the last of
the Lasentia Silvermoon had managed to perfect her artistry. She now often
found herself idling away her time in the dark forest north of Arkham.
Tonight was no different. The night breeze was cool against her skin, the
soft moonlight of the full moon cast enough light for her to move with ease,
wary of any aggressor, though she expected none. She had enough coin and
provisions for some time, there was little need to ply her former trade.
However the faint glow of a nearby campfire and sounds on inebriated
travellers was enticing, as was the fun of it all to her.

She walked towards the light, making sure her steps fell loudly that she
would not catch them by surprise. As she walked up she spied a group of elves
and humans, with a pair of dwarves singing loudly off key by the fire with
their backs to her. She unstrung her lute and strummed a few chords, doing
her best to chime in subtlety with the dwarves as she walked up behind them,
not an unimpressive feat for one so well versed in singing to harmonize with
the abrasive voices of drunk dwarves. Two of the elves had seen her though
and hands had went to blades, but seeing her singing along they let them drop
once more. Their eyes however, watched her every move.

.Greetings wandering minstrel. the first elf said, a rather plain high elf,
dressed in leather armors, a shortsword at his belt. The dwarves however had
not ceased their raucous singing, and seemed more than happy to continue
singing about what appeared to be boots being placed in the arses of various
things. She smiled back at the elf. The dwarves would be no problem to lull
to sleep, alcohol would probably see to it before her voice would, but the
elves were probably a bit more astute. They would not harm her, but they
clearly were more alert as to why she had arrived than the dwarves.

She waited for hours with them, telling stories and enjoying the night air.
The dwarves had passed out fairly early, the humans had gone to sleep as
well, but the three elves stood awake as watch. As she glanced up at the
moon, she smiled a little. She began a song, and before she finished the
three elves had slumped over. Luck had favored her once again.

Role

Chapter 7

As she moved about the sleeping travelers, running her fingers along various
things of theirs, she found the old memories coming back to her of her time
with the Crescent Shadows and Issandril. She liked to think he would be proud
of how far she had come since those days, but she could not help but miss
them. These travelers had nothing she wished,, she knew that. But it allowed
her a brief chance to recapture a fleeting moment of the past.

She walked over to a nearby tree and leaned against it, looking at the fading
moon yielding to the sun's light. It was peaceful, and she planned to depart
before they would awaken. They would never know of her subtle influences on
them, and just assume they had drifted to sleep. Issandril would have been
proud indeed.

Peace it seemed was as fleeting as her memories though, as the sound of a
person approaching caused her to glance to her left. The beard was long and
gray. The armors and helmet were dented and nicked, but fairly well
maintained and adorned a rather proud looking dwarf. Though his cheeks began
to redden as he saw the group of people sleeping there. "Wat in da ells ya
all be still sleepin fer?!" His face was becoming filled with rage at the
lack of response from any of them, but he had no way to know she had put them
At least for a second, until he looked at her and his eyes began to
burn with fury. "Your doin was it?" His hands went to his large axe strapped
to his back as he began to charge at her.

Lasentia looked at the enraged dwarf charging at her for a moment and braced
her right foot against the trunk of the tree. As the hammer came out and
swung in an arc she pushed off and launched herself in a jumping twist over
the dwarf, who ended up smashing his hammer into the tree with a resounding
crack as the wood splintered. She drew her sword and placed the tip of it
against the dwarf's neck as he struggled to free his axe form the tree. The
dwarf's swearing at his luck for not having a proper dwarven axe was rather
humorous, and she almost hated to interrupt it, but he needed to be calmed
and this one did not seem one for words. Feeling the prick of the blade
seemed to get his attention though. "Well den elf, git on wit it fer I free
me axe and plant it in yer arse."

Lasentia chuckled as she responded, not being able to restrain herself.
"Before I do might I ask why dwarves do go on so much about placing things in
the arses of others?" At that question the dwarf seemed to take offense
however, and a rather large metal covered gauntlet swung back at her. Maybe
an agile person would have landed the strike, but this dwarf was far from it
and she twirled away from it in a step, before taking another back and
placing the blade against the dwarf's throat. But this dwarf seemed to be
smiling now.

Role

Chapter 8

"Well well, be up tah yer ole tricks gain I see." At this remark Lasentia
became puzzled, but the dwarf then winked at her, and that spark of kindness
brought it back to her. "Ells I know I be gray now but tah think yah forgot
me, nuff tah make me sorry I saved yer arse back den." She smiled at the old
dwarf as he continued on. "Lucky yah still got dat clasp in yer air, truth be
known ah hardly recognized yah all grown up and ells if yah ain't a nice
sight on me ol eyes. Looks ah it much more skilled now too, more so den any
ah these useless bastards" as he spoke he gestured to the still sleeping
travelers, who turned out to be applicants to the village that he was running
through some training, which no doubt they had failed thanks to her.

The two then spent some time talking, Lasentia catching him up on her life so
far, him telling about the finer points of dwarfdom. As he put it "Wit a
tankard a ale in and an is boot in a duergar's arse" was about as good as
life got for dwarves it turned out, and she thanked him for the insight. As
the conversation progressed the first meeting came up, and the dwarf's mood
seemed to lessen the pain of those memories for her.

"They be gone sure, but we all knew people not ere no more. Be part a life
fer us tah die, someday I return tah the stone jes as you will tah the
forest. Jes be the way ah things, nothing we can do tah stop it. Best jes tah
honor memories ah fallen friends and drink tah em while we got breath tah do
it wit." He handed her a tankard of ale and hoisted his to her. "So here's
tah dem that we carry on in our earts, til we join em an someone else be
carryin us!" At that she smiled and had a long drink with the dwarf.

The meeting ended with her departing to the sound of a dwarven boot slamming
the back sides of the weary to rouse them from their forced slumber. As she
walked away she pondered her place in the realm, in who she carried with her
and who might carry her were she gone. Her fingers drew across her clasp once
more. She may be the last of the Crescent Shadows, but she could also be
their chronicler, their voice, to immortalize their lives in words. She
smiled a little at the thought of others reading of them, learning of those
she held in such respect. Not a bad idea at all. She set out to the Eternal
Star to find a place to begin her work.

Role

Chapter 9

The Inn it seemed had a use for a chronicler, and a chance for her stories to
be published in the Lyceum was enough of an incentive for her to fill the
position. With that in mind Lasentia applied for her position, and after an
encounter with Lady Iunna was allowed to join the Heralds of the Eternal
Star. A fine place to begin her chronicles, and she took to them immediately.

She already knew the story of the Crescent Shadows, and would take some time
to record that. Yet, as she wrote she realized that her story was but one of
the many stories of Thera. How was her's more deserving of chronicling than
anothers? At that she could find no reason outside of vanity perhaps. But
such vanity accomplishes little, and to be considered a true chronicler
worthy of reading, she must find some others' stories worthy of preserving
for the ages.

She had already interviewed the demonic warmaster, Ckath, who was all too
willing to share his deepest secrets and amibitions, as pride is in no small
supply with that one. She could see to his downfall with what he had said,
but had promised to keep his secrets, if only in hopes of being able to
chronicle the events yet to come. It would be a fine tale indeed. But one
story was not enough, she needed others.

Knacnar, Commander of the village, volunteered himself to the task when
Lasentia approached him. His story was a bit brief for the fire giant was
possessed of no less or more intellect than others of his kin, but his story
held her interest, and perhaps might hold that of others. It too remained
incomplete, for a story can not end while the subject yet lives. It was
fortunate she was an elf, and would likely survive them all so as to record
the finales, and perhaps see them placed in the hallowed halls of the Lyceum.

As she returned to her library to resume writing she smiled as she twirled
her pen through her slender fingers, musing on the stories she might yet
learn, the stories she might be remembered for, and perhaps more so than
anything else the immortality that might grant to her name. If the histories
are to be preserved, let her be creditted with their keeping along with them.

Role

Chapter 10

The golden hair and violet eyes of the woman that entered the bar were
unmistakable. As was the cheerful demeanor and fondness of alcohol. Lasentia
sat in her favorite chair and watched Telene as she went about her business.
Things were balanced, and she was often found in the Inn at such times,
enjoying the company and the abundance of alcohol. Lasentia smiled as she
watched her. She had always looked out for Telene, though often there was
little she could do directly as her affairs with the island were not her own.


The half-elf sashayed over to Lasentia and pecked her on the cheek before
returning to the merriment. It had been this way for some time now, with
Lasentia always dropping hints that she desired more from her. But the pecks
were nice, even if she did not know what the future might hold for them. She
took a sip of her wine, and waited, knowing the crowds would thin and
perhaps they might soon find some peaceful time alone. She looked onward,
going about her normal affairs, but always stealing glances of the beautiful
woman across the Inn.

Many weeks and months passed, their friendship had grown considerably. They
often traveled together on adventures, passing the time together. Lasentia
knew long ago she had feelings for her. But she was beginning to become
surprised at just how deep they now ran. She found herself concerned only for
her, waiting for the times they could spend together. It was somewhat odd
that of all she encountered, only another woman had stirred such emotions in
her, but they had. She knew she needed to tell her, but the time was not
quite right. Not until one eve where they happened to walk through the Oryx
Steppes and found a secluded bedroom did she know the moment had come. She
opened the door slowly, watching her enter before her, and as she closed the
door behind her she felt a smile, but a nervous trembling within her with the
uncertainty of what was to come.

Role

Chapter 11

They were alone. Finally. She took a deep breath and turned to face the
expectant half-elf, who already had opened a nice bottle of wine. Drinking
had always been a hobby of them both, and before too long they had gone
through a few bottles together. Hours passed there, and as Lasentia moved to
a seat on the bed a shard in her dress cut into her, causing her to swear. A
slight giggle came from Telene, "If it bothers you so you could simply take
it off." Lasentia smiled back over her shoulder at her, and slowly removed
her dress trying to avoid any more cuts. It was somewhat awkward, but at the
same time freeing for her, feeling Telene's eyes upon her. "As long as we're
getting comfortable..." Lasentia said softly and began removing most of her
armors until she wore only her cloak draped across part of her body.

She stretched out on the cushions in the room, as Telene came to lay near
her. They continued to talk, but the mood had changed. They both could feel
it, as Telene had become slightly more serious in their conversations. And
gradually Lasentia curled up next to her, feeling more at home with Telene's
arm around her than she had ever thought she could find in her life. The
sound of Telene's heart beating in her ear as they talked was overwhelming,
as if she could hear Telene's soul moving in rhythm with her own. She looked
up at her, returning her sweet smile as best she could. Her hand slowly slid
up Telene's back until she reached her neck and softly pulled herself upwards
to meet her lips with her own in a passionate kiss. It was blissful, and
everything she had ever imagined it would be, to have found her, and to know
Telene had the same feelings for her. For a moment she almost doubted she
heard the creek of the door as it began to open, but she and Telene both had
heard it.

Telene's hand went to her weapon, as Lasentia reached instinctively for her
blade and tensed her voice to sing. They may be unarmored, but whoever came
there would find them more than capable to defend themselves. And of all
things, a grimy little duergar mage walked in, and was met with the burning
glares of two women interrupted, and such was enough to make him quickly turn
and flee, knowing he had intruded upon them. Lasentia looked to Telene and
with a deadly serious tone said "Remind me to make that one suffer and wish
for death someday." Telene chuckled in response, but they both knew someday
they would kill him for this intrusion.

However, the moment had passed between them, but their new found feelings for
one another had not. As they made their way back to the inn, Lasentia's steps
were filled with a happiness she had not known since her time in the crescent
shadows. Her hand went to the moonstone clasp, and she smiled, knowing she
had been blessed this eve more than she thought possible.

Immortal Comments

PK Wins

Arena Statistics

Title History

Skill List

Song List

PK Statistics

PK Gank-O-Meter

PK Deaths

Leveling History

Timeline

Mob Deaths

Edges

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Racial Edges

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Edges