Co-owner of The Safehouse tavern and Battle-cleric of Pelor.
Alas, it seems as if all good things truly must come to an end, as is the case with the pleasant break my friends and I have enjoyed over the past several weeks.
Our relaxation met its end in the form of a very large, iron spike being driven through the front door of The Safehouse. Much to my displeasure, upon venturing outside I found the corpse of a nobleman pinned to the door by the spike driven through his skull. Lovely, just what I needed. In an effort to temporarily hide the body before anymore of the citizens had a chance to see it and panic, I (with Thog's help, of course) removed the man and laid him down in the alley. As I stepped back out into the street, however, another commotion caught my eye; apparently there was some sort of trouble down the street about a quarter of a mile. After emptying and closing the inn, Thog and myself brought the body into the parlor, and I took off towards the ruckus down the street. My suspicions of my companions' involvement were confirmed as I arrived at the scene, spotting the dwarf Bimmel, and the curious gnome by the name of Cabin who has recently taken up residence at the inn. I also noticed that the gnome was being held by the guards and Bimmel seemed very satisfied with himself. I'm going to need to teach that damn dwarf some discipline. As flustered as I was because of the dead nobleman, I didn't stop to question what had happened in the street until later. That was unwise, as the dwarf had apparently convinced the guards that Cabin had trampled some fellow running down the street, so the gnome was carried off to the jailhouse before I noticed.
It didn't take long for me to convince the guards to accompany me back to The Safehouse, and they had no choice but to bring along the man that Cabin had chased. The gnome had shackled the poor man at one point during their encounter, and the guards hadn't thought to retrieve the key from him. A short time later, I was back in the parlor with the body, a host of guards, Bimmel, and the shackled man. We started to discuss the death of the nobleman, and decided to search his belongings for clues. In his pocket was a rolled up scroll, and in the other was a flattened, gold coin bearing the word "RUINS" in crude letters. The dwarf, so far feeling left out, insisted upon reading the letter aloud and wrenched it from my grasp. I suppose I should be thanking him. Before he could finish reading the first word, the parchment exploded in a blazing inferno, catching everyone in the room in its blast. I am very thankful that I was there, as I fear one of the guards would have been killed had it not been for the quick response of myself in casting a powerful spell to heal everyone in the area and undo the damage that the exploding runes had wrought. As Bimmel rattled off the last of his more potent curses, I took the opportunity to check all of the people in the room one last time to insure that they were alright. This is when I noticed something about the shackled man. He wore a headband with a sign that I recognized from somewhere on it, and I knew it wasn't good thing. I asked the guards to leave the man so that I could ask him some questions. Apparently these men knew of my reputation in The Crossing, and left him in my custody.
Bimmel and myself began to question the man, and it soon became apparent that he was not being truthful. I have ways to remedy this slight problem, however. I cast a spell upon him that would allow me to detect any lie he may be telling without him noticing, and we managed to glean a few bits of information. We discovered that he was indeed involved in the murder of the nobleman, and had in fact planted the exploding note on his body. He was running from doing this when our gnome friend trampled him on his newly acquired pony. At this point he discovered my spell and stopped talking all together. I HATE it when they do that, it makes it much more difficult and messy to get answers that way. We didn't get much of a chance to proceed with the... ahh... more aggressive questioning, however, as the man felt it necessary to escape. Ha! As if I could let that happen; my ego wouldn't be able to handle it. The shackled man quietly cast a spell to transform himself into a gaseous form, and attempted to seep through the crack under the door. Unfortunately for him, however, I managed to dispell his enchantment before he was able to get all of the way under the door. He did manage to get his hand under though, and it was promptly crushed upon his abrupt return to his solid form.
The man began to make a reach for a hidden pocket on the side of his pant leg. Acting quickly, I shattered his hand with a well placed blow of my morning star, as I wanted to keep him alive and conscious for further questioning. Unfortunately, though, Bimmel was a bit less reserved than I, and felt it necessary to nearly cave the man's skull in with the blunt of his axe. He wouldn't be waking any time soon, if at all.
I began to clean up the mess and to make preparations for when the man would wake up, when Bimmel told me that he was going to go fetch Cabin from the jail house. Normally I would have come up with some suitably incredulous response and insisted on going myself so that Cabin would get out without too much hell being raised, but I was tired and had a lot of work to do, so I didn't. Yes, I know, it was a horrible idea. I never should have left it up to Bimmel to rescue the gnome. And rest assured I never would have, had I known that Makil and Slick were already on the scene attempting to rescue him with some ridulously elaborate and overcomplicated (not to mention dangerous, illegal, and entirely unnecessary) plan. Alas, it was not one of my better moments. Bimmel scrounged up some nobleman outfit and scurried off to the prison.
Well, after waiting long enough for the dwarf and the gnome to be back with all of the trouble cleared up twice, I began to come to my senses. I left the rest of my drink and hurried off to the prison.
Good thing I arrived when I did, too. By the looks of it, Bimmel had been claiming to "represent" Cabin, and was trying to set a court date. Makil had ineffectively disguised himself as a member of the guard and was raising some eyebrows, Slick had actually joined the guard and was causing a small amount of trouble at Cabin's cell, where Cabin himself was raising havoc with a few minor enchantments and cantrips. Yet again, it was I who smoothed out the trouble with a few well-chosen words to the captain that resulted in Cabin being released from the prison quickly and without any trouble. My companions really must learn to control themselves and think things through, I'm getting tired of pulling their asses out of the fire all of the time.
At this point, I was really looking forward to finishing my drink back at The Safehouse, so that is what I did. Bimmel came with me into the inn, where he put an end to the unconscious man's life, as we had decided it was best, and then he slipped out again to pick up some supplies. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the coin, considering what it might mean. I remembered someone earlier mentioning that there were some old ruins on the outskirts of The Crossing, and I decided we would check it out to see if it had any relevance once the rest of the group had come back. Nothing is ever that easy, however. About a half hour later, Bimmel returned, carrying a crate of trinkets and various odds and ends, with blood sluicing off of his axe. I, of course, demanded to know what had happened. Bimmel began to cheerfully tell me a tale about how he and Slick had come across a shopkeep who had sold Bimmel an apparently enchanted axe, but had never told Bimmel what it did. When Bimmel returned to inquire of the axe's powers, Slick, in his normal style of unbridled greed, began to empty the merchants pockets, under the pretense of giving the man "hugs". After the shopkeep decided that he had had enough "hugs" and demanded that Slick stop, Slick felt it prudent to give the man one final "hug" for good measure. At this, the merchant drew a knife, which Bimmel decided was cause enough to slaughter the poor man with his axe. Also, this apparently meant that since Bimmel had killed the man, all of the stock in his shop belonged to himself and Slick, who promptly began to haul it over to the Safehouse, without another thought to the dead merchant.
I, of course, was utterly shocked (though I should be used to it by now) at this, so I pushed past the dwarf and ran towards the shop to see if there was something I could do. An even greater surprise met me when I came face to face with Carl, the owner of the store, and the man who had apparently been killed. He explained how he had survived, which really made very little sense, but I wasn't given much time to think it over. Soon after I began talking to the shopkeep, a stranger came upon us. He hesitated for a moment, then drew his short sword and charged at poor Carl. He didn't get near to close though, as my spell soon had him frozen in place, all of his muscles locked. For good measure (and a bit to relieve my pent up frustration from the day, I admit), I laid the man out with a strong punch to his face with my gauntleted fist. The guards soon showed up and hauled the scum off to the prison, where he belonged. I was most satisfied with myself, and decided to forget about the trouble at the shop, as Carl was quite well and seemed very unperturbed about his missing merchandise. Now that I think about it, that's very irregular. Perhaps it would be wise to stay away from any of the trinkets Bimmel may have acquired.
I went back to The Safehouse, where all of the group besides Slick had assembled and were waiting for me. We discussed the coin and the ruins outside of town while we waited for Slick to arrive. After several hours, the thief dragged himself into the tavern, looking thoroughly disgruntled, and he shot me the dirtiest glare that I've ever seen. I can't for the life of me figure out what I did to merit that.
With the entire company finally gathered, we started out towards the ruins, and arrived there in short order. After a brief encounter and exchanging of words with the guards on duty, we made our way into the crumbled, ancient city. One of the first things we noticed upon entering was the presence of the same symbol on the dead man's headband engraved on various structures. At seeing the symbol yet again, I remembered a particular lesson of mine while I was training in the Priesthood at Belsin. The symbol was the sign of a fanatically worshipped god of trickery and deceit, and this city was erected in honor of him; this was before The Undoing, of course, during which the city was destroyed. Keeping my sudden doubts and fears to myself, I proceeded into what appeared to have once been a temple with the rest of the group.
The building we entered was still mainly intact; in fact, the basin atop the altar was still filled with water. This puzzled me greatly, as generally the water would have long since evaporated and dispersed. I did not ponder this mystery for long, however, as we shortly found another man, this time a peasant, pinned to the stone wall of the temple by the spike driven through his head. With great effort, the group and I pulled the spike out of the wall, and brought the mutilated corpse down to the floor. I was prepared this time, however, and cast a spell that allowed me to ask the dead man a few questions, which were answered from the memory and knowledge he retained in life. We didn�t manage to learn anything that we hadn�t already either known or suspected, but did manage to get a description of what had done this.
The dead man had described it as some sort of giant or giant-kin, who wore nothing but a loin cloth that bore the same symbol that we had been encountering of late. It had been immensely strong, even for a giant, and had easily pushed the huge, iron spike through the peasant�s skull.
Just before I turned away from the dead man to rejoin my party, the man turned to me and asked a favor. He wanted me to bury him, so that his soul could rest and that he would have the comfort of knowing that his body would go undefiled by the wears of time and nature. I agreed, but there were more important things to do, first; we had to discover the source of these murders. I told the corpse that I would be back later to bury him.
While I had been talking with the dead man, the rest of the group had discovered a trap door behind the altar. After judging the distance to be roughly twenty feet, the group descended into a low tunnel, and began to move along it. Unfortunately, the tunnel was so small that I, and the other reasonably sized people in the group, had to crawl through on our hands and knees. Makil was in the front, scouting the way for traps. Apparently he hadn�t done a very good job though, as after a few hundred feet, I hear a loud *SNAP* and a cry of pain coming from Makil. Apparently he had somehow managed to get his hand caught in a bear trap, which was now horribly mangled (The hand, that is. The trap was fine, don�t worry). It was nothing beyond my skills to mend, however, so we were quickly on our way again, with my repertoire of healing spells already drained slightly.
Bimmel �fell� victim to the next trap, however. The dwarf had taken the lead while I was healing Makil, so he was the unfortunate one to stumble into the large pit trap that covered 5 feet of the tunnel�s floor. This was no ordinary pit trap, however, oh no... It was the spiky kind. Our friend Bimmel would very likely be dead right now if it weren�t for the aid of Cabin, who managed to cast a spell to make Bimmel fall like a feather, and allowed him to safely glide down the pit. The dwarf�s luck was not as great when he attempted to climb up the spikes on the wall and reach us, however. Bimmel, we would later discover, had apparently succumbed to some sort of illusion. The dwarf was about half way up when he suddenly got a dazed expression on his face, and let go of the spikes that he was using as handholds, falling unconscious, as well as back in to the pit. After several attempts to wake the dwarf, we succeeded, and he explained to us how a large boulder had come crashing down atop him, flattening him to the ground. He didn�t seem to notice that the boulder had mysteriously vanished and that he wasn�t injured too badly. On his second attempt up the spiked wall, Bimmel managed to pull himself over the lip of the pit, onto the opposite side from the rest of the group. After some careful steps and jumps, the rest of the party reached the other side of the large hole, though this was no mean feat for myself, standing a full six feet tall and clad in very heavy full plate mail.
So ends my part of the story, it is now time for another to take up the quill and finish the tale.
Ranger of the Order of the Wolf, Protector of the Northern Forest
'Twas the last night of the year, and the Safehouse was full of jovial customers, enjoying Tumpy's tales. The Safehouse was doing quite well, thanks to the money my companions came across in the Ruins. Ah, the wine this year was extremely sweet, a great omen for the new Year of the Hawk, or so I thought. Presently, a city official strode into the room and nailed a notice to our wall. Each stroke of his hammer my heart skipped a beat. Something was terribly amiss, I could smell it on the air.
Indeed, war had broken out between Wilheimton and Adorne. This was horrible news; Wilheimton had not the strength to stand up to half of the Army of Adorne. What could have pushed the two nations to such violence? The notice also stated that traitors shall be shown no mercy, and will be sought after tirelessly. After a quick conference with my companions, we decided to question Quincy (our connection to the government) in the morning. I went to bed with a heavy heart.
I was having a cheerless breakfast in the chill morning when Rukku walked down the stairs briskly, an anxious expression on his face. An owl had delivered a message to him. Unfortunately, the seal on the note was obviously already broken before Rukku had opened it. The note asked us to travel to Lakeside on the eastern shore of Lake Infinity, and seek Baron Magan there. Our reccomended route was to take the highway west into Tolling, and there travel the highway to Isteri, and there travel only 20 miles to Lakeside.
This Baron Magan wanted to discuss "business" with him over dinner. I don't like it, none of us do. But alas, our curiosity got the better of us and we decided to travel there, by a different route. Quincy wasn't in office today, but I was able to discern that the cause of the war was over a border dispute. Trust humans to destroy each other over their own wretched greed.
The route we settle on is a road parallel to the Glittergold River, south. We would then go southwest directly into Lakeside. Should anyone question us, we are to say we are dragon hunters, heading for the Farlimit Mountain Range. The fresh snow was soft under our boots, and the air was cold as last year's memories. The sky was clear and blue, and endless lake in the heavens. Oh, how I wished I could be at home in the forest right now.
After a while, some patrolling guards questioned and searched us. They were content and invited us to share their fire. It warmed my skin but not my heart. Every step towards Lakeside was another step towards misery, I thought. I don't know if the others are as concerned as I am...
...Later in the day, we came to a fork in the road. I scouted a mile down the left one, and found a fellow ranger in the Order of the Wolf. He claimed his party had been troll-hunting more rangers were now lying unconscious somewhere in a cave. Idiots. I was already irritable, but they were in the Order, and by my honor I had to help. So I rode back to my friends, only to find them gone. I sighed and prepared to leave them to help the rangers, when a rock hit me. I looked around and noticed my companions stepping out of the shrubbery. They had been hiding. They think they are so clever... Great work, men. You have successfully been able to throw a rock at me. They will push me over the edge one day, I swear.
After lightly cursing them, I explained the situation and we found the cave. There was a Roper inside. I hate Ropers. The rangers were strewn about the cave, with the roper at the back. The roper's tentacles quickly snatched up Ruku, who began slicing at the undulating limbs holding him. I fired two arrows at the beast and then charged with my swords. Meanwhile, the spell-casters were blasting the foul creature with spells. The monster grabbed me too, but I managed to cut my way out of it. Ruku suddenly stopped moving. We killed the monster, and went around checking on everyone's health. Ruku was alive, but comatose. Everyone was healed within the next eight hours.
At this point I am extremely bored. I would rather be out with other rangers defending the forests, but NO. I'm participating in a shady mission complicated by politics. Stupid humans and their wars. So I apologize if I am a bit less enthusiastic while covering our journey. We reached Lakeside with no further interruptions. We found the Baron's house, and we had dinner with him and his wife. He told us of a tower that has risen in the Dark. It was the home of a powerful wizard before the Undoing, and was thought to have been destroyed. In the morning, we will travel across Lake Infinity into the city of Rain to find "Rea Skyherald" (female name, male wizard.)...
...During the night, someone was sneaking around the house, so I shot them with an arrow. Apparently they had broken Rantash's window. Coward. I went to sleep easily that night, and woke up bright and early for a healthy visit. Ruku came down, looking like he'd just come from a war. There were twigs and leaves in his hair, his clothes were wet with dew and stained with grass. There was a large spot of dried blood in his shoulder. Maybe he found the little spy last night too, and had a hard time chasing him. Oh well. Let's see... Slick came down next, looking pale and sweating more than usual. He wouldn't talk.
We boared the boat and left for the other side of the Lake. Again, another boring trip. Rain, however, was exciting. We went to a tavern, and bought it for only two thousand gold coins. Rantash and I named it "Captain Awesome and Carrot's." It's very popular, and a very intimidating and powerful... er... thing is the bouncer. Excellent. I am beginning to like the human enterprise of business. We find Rea Skyherald, who brings Caben, henceforth called Frinly, to us. Frinly has two books of information on the Tower. Slick is extremely eager to go to the tower, for some reason. I think he knows something I don't.
At any rate, I no longer trust Frinly, as he felt he needed to hide his very name from us. Gnomes aren't very high up on my list, either. But we learned that the Skyherald Tower, as it is known, was once home to Rea's relative, a powerful wizard. Something is amiss in the Dark, and I want to know what. I don't like unnatural things happening in such densely vegetated areas. I warned the group about the trolls of the Dark, and they went out and grabbed various combustible knickknacks.
We arrived in Port Aris after another uneventful voyage, but here is where the fun began. The little town was quiet as death. Burning shells of buildings greeted us, and as we drew weapons and advanced to investigate, a squad of trolls ambushed us.
rockstar and supposed vampire
�I thought I had it made
Now I hide behind the masquerade
Where it is dark and cold as the grave
And they think that I'm afraid
That I'll die if this law I break
But the voices in my head
Kindly remind me � I'm already dead.�
The rain assaults the apartment's roof night after night now, and I can't sleep. By all means I shouldn't be awake. But I suppose it's my fault I'm like this. As the cold, salty water slowly drips onto the bed, making a puddle, I try to look into it, to see what I have become. The image escapes my eyes... I see only the ripples from the tear that fell into the small pool of despair. I can't feel a thing, yet I am cold. I've never been so alone in my life. It didn't use to be like this. It was quite the opposite...
I had just turned 24 years old, and I was performing my usual birthday concert. Cheng's Theater, Los Angeles. My band was called Garlic, and I was lead guitarist and lead singer. The place was packed, with everyone jumping up and down to the music. Ken Griffon was on drums, and Mike Garcia was playing bass. We finished around 7:00pm, and I realized I had a dinner date with the love of my life, Stacey Johnston, at 7:30. It usually takes an hour to pack up the tour trucks and get moving after every concert, so I decided to change my clothes and run. This was my city anyways. I was born up in Grenada Hills. A light drizzle caused the city to reflect the lights in a dazzling array of colors.
I wrapped the black leather trench coat tight around me; I didn't want my suit getting wet. This was an important night. I checked my watch. Ten minutes, and still half an hour away. I looked around, desperately, but this was only the city of angels while the sun was up. Every night, the gangs rule the streets. I didn't want to run the risk of asking the wrong person for help, lest they take the special ring from inside my shirt pocket.
I noticed that, oddly enough, this alley here cuts straight through the biggest block this side of town. That should save me at least twenty minutes. I jogged through the dark, damp corridor when suddenly, I heard a large crash behind me, as if someone had kicked over one of the many overflowing trash cans. I slid to a halt and noticed that, indeed, a rusted tin can was on it's side, it's putrid sludge slowly oozing out onto the broken concrete. My heart began pounding. Now was NOT the night to get mugged, not this night.
I was sweating now, but I ran the rest of the way to Don Venicci's Fine Italian Eatery, two minutes late. Damn. I couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been following me, and it made me very nervous. But my nerves calmed when I saw her. Ah, beautiful Stacey, her eyes were the brightest shade of green, like a sunny field in the countryside. She was wearing the dress that I like, the lavender one with the sequin roses. She had crimson lipstick, and she was still wearing that pearl necklace from last winter. She never took it off!
She smiled smugly and said, �You're late.� The lobby was crowded, but I noticed a strange man tapping me on my shoulder. I should have ignored him; I usually ignore the fans that follow me everywhere I go. I should have kneeled down right there and offered her the ring; I should have kissed her, I should have held her close and never let go. But I turned to face the man. His hair was dripping wet, and his clothes, if you could call them that, were soaked. His face was pale and he had an annoying tick. His eyes seemed rather dry and bloodshot, and couldn't seem to focus. �Y- you dropped a lil sumthin out dere in dat alleyway...� he groaned, as if the very act of talking gave him such pain. He twitched nervously and repeated the phrase, and I got the idea that whatever it was he didn't bother to pick it up for me.
With a sinking feeling I thought of the ring. With one last glance into Stacey's eyes I excused myself and ran outside into the alley. The man followed me. Just to make sure, I reached into my pocket where the ring ought to be � and found it there. Something clicked in my brain a little too late. I was missing nothing. I was a damned fool for being lured away from her, a damned fool. The man came down on me with his horrible mouth open, revealing yellow teeth and blood-stained fangs.
I knew all about street fighting, but I had no time that night. I remember being knocked to the ground, him biting my neck. I remember screaming, screaming to whatever gods would listen. It was raining when my eyes opened again. I saw darkness, only darkness. I heard voices and sirens from far away, or maybe we were all underwater. I smelled blood � it was so strong I gagged. I felt a hand barely touch my face, but I saw only a pale blur in the darkness. �Stacey?� I choked on the word, finally spitting it out with a little blood. �Stacey-- Will you-- will you marry me?�
Nobody answered. The papers said I was mauled by a maniac. The cops searched all over the city for the guy... for four days. You know cops. They say I'm a vampire now. I have these rules to follow, though I'm not sure the consequences for breaking the rules are much incentive to not break the rules. I'm already dead, right? And the world forgot me in the four months I spent trying to find myself. One night I crept over to Stacey's house, and peeked in her window. I expected her to be asleep, so I could slip the rose and the letter onto her desk without scaring her.
But someone was sharing the bed with her. I left the rose and the note on the windowsill and ran back to my house. I guess I'm stuck somewhere between death and life. It's an eternal second chance... but to do what? What have I got left? I picked up my guitar and played a sad little tune. Ah, yes. I have my music. The music I would play for Stacey every night, a lullaby on my guitar as I wished her sweet dreams... Well I'm gonna win her back, or die trying. And I haven't figured out how to die yet.
The sun will come up soon, and the angels will walk the city again. I need my rest. This city is God's guitar; my friends and I are but one chord. I finally close my eyes to the soft lullaby of the raindrops against the apartment roof.
Officer Chunk used to babysit me when I was just a little boy. Now he's working for the LAPD... protecting and serving the city from behind a desk. We've always been good friends. He's pulled me out of a lot of trouble, and I've helped him get quite a few dates (something he needs more and more help with lately.) Mr. Carlos Panterra is the president of Record Breaker Industries (my record label.) He really loves my music and does all he can to help me in my musical career. So I guess I'm connected... but I feel so alone; nobody can ever understand. Not even myself.