Gatherings

Chapter one

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Gatherings

"Run along!"- The Wood Elf cried - "hurry up, or we'll be late"
"Take it easy Alak… You don't want to be wasted for the hunting!" - Tebryn, the drow mentor of Alak Moonshadow shouted. 
"I'll be fine…" - Alak, an athletic wood elf, agile like the drows, fond of nature like the sylvan elves and curious like an halfling answered. Alak was wearing a gray-green cloak over his fine elven chainmail and good boots. Two bandoleers crossed on his body, two scabbards on his belt, and two scabbards on his back… His strength was the stealth and the swordplay, specially the swordplay. He moved silently as a panther even with all the iron he carried… about sixty pounds of pure iron made weapons. He had, among others, two bastard swords - larger versions of the longsword - two short swords, two daggers, two cutlasses, and more… He played with his swords as a panther plays with its prey.
The drow knew that… He'll be fine indeed… he has the abilities of a drow even if his not one… - "Go along then… I'll catch you later then…" - He'll be fine, the drow reasoned, Eilistraee looks over Alak, his pupil.
That day was the day of the monthly gathering, the worshiping gathering to Eilistraee the Dark Maiden… Normally these gatherings involved a big hunt, a big feast, dancing, singing… all with the minimum clothing possible… During the Time of Troubles, Alak received a personal visit of Eilistraee herself, well her avatar at least. That visit had boosted Alak's hope - during the Time of Troubles there was a human ride at the Ardeep Forest… Many drow were killed, many females raped, other many taken away. The humans took Alak's bride and they took his hope too… with his beloved one… with his sanity! Sometimes he appears perfectly normal, but in other times… - he declared to the gods that he would find his beloved one. That day Alak was hoping that Eilistraee would come to bless his search for revenge… That didn't happen, Eilistraee had come but didn't bless him - "Revenge and hate aren't good feelings nor good actions, dear child…", the goddess proclaimed - Alak became berserk in that moment… wasn't for his mentor, and he would have the guts and the stupidity to attack the Dark Maiden. So Alak ran away, in search for is lover. 
"The young one is confused" - a priestess assured the goddess.
"I know, beloved child" - the goddess replied - "I know…"

***

The hunger for power was great and his madness too. But one thing confused Kelben, the Cyric's godling, why did the old mage deliver him such powerful artifact? Cyric had assured him that the old mage was getting mad with old age - Cyric knew better, the Prince of Lies knew that was Mystra who demanded Elminster, that human old mage, to give the Eye away. Cyric knew that Mystra was planning to destroy it. And Cyric was pleased with that… he too wanted the Eye destroyed but he was expecting something with that… at least some fun! He had some plans to Kelben and to the Eye, that wretched thing that make him mad some years ago… - Elminster, the sage of Shadowdale, was lunatic. 
Elminster is the most powerful human in the Realms, not a weakling… Cyric reasoned. He was afraid of Elminster actually! If that human ascended to a god then Mystra would have another ally, another good god on his side! He couldn't destroy Elminster, No god could destroy Elminster, only Lord Ao, and that one was pleased with Mystra idea… The Eye will be destroyed but Elminster will, too, be destroyed… Kelben will become mad as Cyric became, and when the time arrived Cyric would gladly stop Mystra from ressurect him and would take Demons to the fugue plane and let them take the old mage soul… Everything was fine for Cyric, everything…
Kelben sat at the throne of the throne room of ancient Cormathor, the city of Myth Drannor… A army of two thousand Tannar'ri with two Balor generals - huge demons, the true Tannar'ries, twelve feet of pure muscle distorted by evil and chaos - were at Kelben disposal, at the godling disposal… if only he knew how to deactivate the Mythal… that magic was long ago lost... but maybe there's a way - the Portals of Myth Drannor…

***

Three years had passed since Alak´s departure from the Ardeep Forest. 
He wandered by the Sword coast for several months until he arrived to the beginnings of a forest, a huge stone marking the entrance of the forest - a particular huge stone that held the inscription "Ye're now entering the Kript Garden Forest, beware" - a clearing not far ahead. Alak was a ranger, he would not enter by the obvious entrance and he would not disturb nor the local flora nor the local fauna - well, perhaps a rabbit or something to eat and some berries - and he would not stay long.
The forest was thick with huge trees, oaks mostly, and fair sounds of birds singing filled the air. Alak thought the whole forest quite pleasing to his nature-kin senses.
A day had passed, the sun was getting low then and the pale moon was starting to appear, when Alak sighted a rabbit - a fair little hunt. He drew his composite longbow - a beautiful bow, made by his mentor of cave bear's bones, bent to always have the form of a pulled bow - and put an arrow on it… he focused on the small animal and then he let the arrow fly. A precise shot  - he thought - but suddenly the small rabbit turned into a squirrel…
"Wha- what?!" - the very confused wood elf bobbled.
He let other volley fly… and he squirrel was then a wolf and the arrow simply passed throughout the shifting form…
"What in the Nine Hells is happening here?" - Alak screamed with anger boiling in his guts - "What foul sorcery is this?"
Then the wolf, a fine animal with gray fur and strong muscles, turned into a small halfling, a really small halfling, three feet tall with black hair, blue eyes and wearing long red robes that concealed a very nasty looking dagger.
"Well met elf. My name's Solt… and may I know the name of the person that was trying to murder me?" - the halfling presented himself.
"Wha- what are you?" - Alak replied.
 "So you're not only a tall fellow, but you are, too, a 'dumbfellow'" - the small creature snickered - "I'm an halfling, you stinking elf!".
"But you were a rabbit! You-…"
"A rabbit, a squirrel, a wolf, a human, whatever form it pleases me…" - the short fellow declared with a huge smile crossing his face, ear to ear.
"So… I presume you're a Druid. A damn good one!"- the wood elf presumed remembering the teachings of his mentor about the friends of the nature.
"What?! A druid? Are you seeing me with little leaves or flowers in my head? Do I have a huge bear or something at my side? Do I have that intelligence-absence look in my face? Do I-…."
"All right, I've got the picture! So what are you shorty?"- Alak asked.
 "Don't I have robes? Don't I have a damn huge spellbook in my backpack? Don't I have a familiar next to me?…"
"No."
"What?! Are you saying that I don't have robes? - a confused, and not amused halfling, retorted.
"Nope… Not saying that…"- the wood elf snickered.
"Don't I have a damn huge spellbook in my backpack?"- the halfling repeated, remembering how heavy was his spellbook.
"That you do have"
"So… Not the robes… Not the spellbook… Then…"
"Familiar?"- Alak retorted.
"GRATUK THIER DUIFU FUTYD'E GY'BUTY!"- the short mage screamed in a language Alak knew well, Demonic, the guttural language of the beasts of the Abyss.
"Get your arse down here…"- Alak whispered to himself as he saw a Quasit descending calmly from the top of the trees, flapping its little wings.
"So you understood what I've just said… umm… Tyre dert furled eryf deu Efirify Ifityfirii Fey, fuyt spelish tannarish?"- the mage asked as his familiar landed on his shoulder.
"Mortal, from the ancestral race of the elves, do you speak demonic?"- Alak repeated, in common, what the halfling just said.
"Duiling loiling duling dsily celk?- Solt asked, now in Celestial, another languange Alak knew well.
"Do you speak Celestial?"- the elf  repeated, in common, the words that the mage just said.
"Would you help me in a quest if I ask you too?"- the halfling asked.
"You must be evil! You have a demonic familiar, and you speak the languages of the outer planes!"
"I do speak the languages of the outer planes… But that, you, also do it. Yes, I do not follow the path of the commonly good folk… What can I say… bad childhood?"
"Tell me your plan…"- the wood elf tired of his runaway life and from this non-sense chat, demanded.
"First, I need to go to Candlekeep…"
***

"Milord, the army is getting anxious"- a huge balor reported to Kelben in a guttural voice, typical of the lower planes.
"Go torture some slaves or something…"- an anxious Kelben retorted as he watched firmly onto his scrying device, a huge crystal ball with the petrified body of some fey used as support to the ball.
"No slave feeds the hunger of a Tannar'ri!"- the huge beast roared.
"The time is near to come demon! The one who is going to lower the mythal will come here… Now I must go to Candlekeep, to handle some affairs…"- a pleased Kelben declared to his lieutenant as he pulled a wand from his hip- "The time is near…"

Wait a few days please... :)

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