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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
 Posted - 19 Oct 2007 : 15:49:45
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I just thought I might share some of the writing I have about this character of mine. I don't really consider him a character any longer though...not someone I get to play. More of a story character now; but still someone I find fun to write about.
If this is the wrong area to post such things, I hope someone will point me in the right direction.
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The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 19 Oct 2007 : 16:00:32
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1372, Mirtul 22
Dalor finds himself again in the comfort of the Old Skull...but things change even for those who try hardest to not allow them to change...
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“Oh, I don’t suppose it was so very long ago really…..” the old man’s soft whisper of a voice trails off as his eyes think back in time; his listeners huddle closer to the fireplace of the Inn. Many times the “Old Traveler” has come to their village and sat by their fire to tell his stories.
“I suppose it may very well have been many years ago now that I think upon it. Yes, many years indeed; for this was a time when I was much younger, my spells quicker, and my knees not quite so weak in my stride.” At this last he looks fondly upon a small child so full of energy that she has yet to settle down to listen to old tales, but instead still finds great fascination in a simple insect as it winds its way toward the crack in the floor from whence it came. Looking around he noticed that others were more than eager however, and so he brought himself back to those who would listen.
“I wasn’t so young as most of you sitting here mind you, gray had began to pepper my hair and my travels had weathered my face. These were the years of my wide wanderings in the south. My oft weary feet carried me through the mystical lands of Halruaa, sought steady footing upon storm tossed decks when sailing to far Nimbral or even to the lands of far beyond, which I’m sorry to say words cannot describe if uttered by this addle-minded old fool.” His sly wink toward the barkeep assured the jovial fellow he wouldn’t forget to pay his bill on this trip through.
“Yes, I was traveling through the great and wide reaches of grasslands known as The Shaar toward the dominion of the Gold Dwarves. As always, I foolishly refused to ride upon a horse….too much upkeep and trouble are beasts without hands to pay for their own meals I say!” Few in the crowd could imagine the old weathered man capable of traveling without benefit of some sort of conveyance; that is if they didn’t quite often find him walking wearily up the trail to their village.
“I had only a while earlier, can’t say how many days actually, for feet tend to just place themselves one after the other when traveling a far way…..where was I? Oh yes! I had just a while earlier left the squalid city of Shaarmid behind. Mind you that place has little changed, so filled with bleak streets surrounded by a wall much too constricting for its great number of people…..but I digress of course. Let’s get onto the bones of the story eh?” Many of the villagers eagerly smiled, more grateful that they weren’t going to get another lesson on the various and sundry than they were to hear the story of course.
“I’m rather sure I was nearing the great Landrise when I saw the plumes of smoke. Now mind you that in the grasslands of the Shaar, such a sight usually means great trouble. It could have been a raging plains fire, but I doubted it for all the recent rains. Then I thought mayhap a large gathering of nomads perhaps; but of course they wouldn’t light so many fires to cause the half dozen or so black plumes of smoke I saw. With little left that could be good, I expected to come upon the sight of some unfortunate caravan sacked by gnolls or nomads. I thought of turning off the road as any sensible man should have done; but then I WAS traveling in a land rife with gnolls and nomads alone was I not. So….assured I was already a bit unsensible, I carried on of course.” A light chuckle from the crowd at this simple joke made the old man smile; it seemed there was less humor with each passing year in the lands he traveled. So many things brought at best only weariness it seemed; he was very glad to be in Shadowdale again sitting next to the roaring fire of his favorite inn.
“So it was I at last found the source of the smoke. As I had feared, numerous wagons had indeed been set alight, and a grim task had been done as well, for there were none about which were not in need of a proper place to rest if you know my meaning.” The parents in the Old Skull were indeed glad the old man so often spared the imagination of their children from horrible images. “As ill fortune would have it, there were still those about who would see a lone man added to the days woes; I spied a group of gnolls mounted upon their horrible mounts, hyenas the size of a horse!” The children gasped that such a thing could be, even if they weren’t quite sure what a hyena was. “They had seen me as well, and they quickly decided to have sport of my awkward situation!”
Looking quizzically about him, the old man soon found his mug and tipped it up to his lips to quench his dry throat; the patrons sat impatiently waiting to hear what had happened. Finally having his fill of cool water, the story teller sat the nearly empty mug back upon the stool next to him and wiped the excess water in his thick beard onto the thinning sleeve of his travel worn gray robe. “Ah yes….back to the gnolls and their hyenas shall we!”
“There I stood out in the open like so much the fool rabbit found too far from his hole when the hawk comes hunting! The beasts started to cackle in such a manner that I briefly held hope they would all fall down and roll upon the ground while I escaped, but such isn’t the case for gnolls and hyenas….more toward mocking me they were.” Standing from his stool and using his knotted cane to hold him up, the graybeard stood so that he could use the light of the fire to make a better scene. Used to this ploy, the villagers focused eagerly on the story.
“On they rushed! I had only brief moments before they were going to make a meal of me for certain! While magic is a powerful thing, often one must be certain to use the proper spell in a given dilemma…and so my mind raced with the possible solution to my situation. I thought to cast forth fire to consume them, but I knew to do so would cause the very brush fire I had earlier feared……magical fire is hotter than any you can know of course. A dragon’s breath alone can melt stone, and a wizard’s fire is nearly as deadly!” With this last the fire behind the wizard grew to twice its size, and the villagers drew back as it crackled loudly in agreement with the old man.
“With scant moments to spare, the lead gnoll bearing down on me swiftly with his spear in hand…leaning eagerly forward to pierce my leg or arm and start the sport with me; I fell upon an idea. Concentrating for my dear life, I thought about how much better life would be if there was more of me to go around….and so there was! Seven more of me suddenly stood all about me! This of course greatly confused the gnoll, who thought I was alone; and of course he stopped laughing at me almost immediately too.” The fire relaxed behind the wizard as he winked at the little girl who was now finished watching bugs and now listened as intently as the others.
“The furry muzzle of the gnoll knotted into anger; much like you would see on a rabid wolf, but much uglier I must say, and he came on. His spear stabbed fiercely right for my heart!” The old fellow clutched at his chest and staggered back to brace himself on the mantle of the fireplace. “Of course, it wasn’t really me it had stabbed since I was now with very amiable fellows who were more than eager to accept the blows for me; all the more willing since they weren’t real!” With a courteous bow a second wizard, the twin of the old man, appeared beside the story teller and then blinked away…..many whispers rounded the room.
“Given a moment or two more to think since my illustrious selves were busy defending me, I wracked my brain as to how I could get rid of these gnolls without doing something that could hurt the land about me. Only Red Wizards and Zhentarim simply blast away at their foes with no thought to the world around them mind you young ones!” Knowing nods all around the room bore testament to the less than ‘bumpkin’ minds of these folk in Shadowdale.
“Having few spells in my mind that wouldn’t either take me back to a place I knew very well or else make a mess all about me, and wholly unwilling to allow these critters to go unscathed for their vile deeds while I had to restart my long journey; I decided to fight the scurvy ridden mongrels with a bit o’ the Earthmother herself! Just as the last of my kindly protector-selves popped like a bubble, I bent my mind in search of an earthly friend to do what I could not do alone.” The fire died down to only embers, leaving the lamps to illuminate the face of the old man.
“Rising from the ground, grass still clinging like the green hair of a faerie to what could only be a head, rose a mound of earth and rock larger than a hill giant!” The fresh smell of tilled earth wafted through the room bringing still more intensity to the story….this is why the old man was so favored a story teller; despite even his tendency to ramble on at times. “The earth elemental and I stood side by side as the gnolls and giant hyenas closed in about us!”
The fire behind the wizard began to slowly mount in anticipation of the old man’s story, slowly climbing as the words became stronger and more intense from the now resonating and strong voice of the wizard. “The first gnoll and his mount leapt forward in an attempt to slay me outright, but my earthen companion was fast despite his size! A huge fist, knuckles made of sharp stones, knocked the hyena senseless and it fell to the ground; and then a second hand dispatched the gnoll which tried to regain its feet after its fall.”
“On rushed a second gnoll, again trying to attack me instead of the unliving animate rock which stood in my defense; loath though I was to do it, I quickly spat out the words that caused the beast’s last breath: my Lady granted me five magical missiles which struck the cackling gnoll in the chest and thus brought an end to him, and then five more following closely behind so sorely wounded the hyena that it turned and ran.” The fire was beginning to grow unnaturally large, and the heat was starting to make those in the front begin to sweat just a little.
“A third gnoll came too close and the earth elemental grabbed him about the neck, and used him as a club upon a fourth member of that foul group of murderous scoundrels. Bereft of guidance by their masters, the hyenas were more than grateful to follow their true nature and flee such a fierce adversary. The fifth and sixth gnolls to fall hit the ground snoring after I beseeched the aid of the sandman, only to be tread underfoot by the ground quaking steps of my elemental friend. Their mounts too decided hunting gazelle, that being a small southern deer-like creature, might be more beneficial to their daily lot and so they turned and fled quickly away.” The old man now seemed to stand very straight and tall, perhaps taller than any man in the room; his voice carried strongly to even those in the back corners of the common room, and all stared intently upon his face as they listened.
“On and on the battle raged, for the number of gnolls was greater than you can count upon the fingers of your hands for four generations back! I brought down upon them freezing rains, choking fog, and even turned one into a field mouse! At last the situation seemed in hand and the gnolls had lost their appetite for the fight…” the old man looked wearily down at his nearly empty mug and picked it up. Holding it toward the serving girl she filled it up and he took a deep draught to quench his thirst. Then in a whisper “…that is, until the dragon came!” The room gasped as one, all present knowing the power of a dragon which once took their beloved Sylune from them.
“Aye, a great and powerful beast it was too! I should have known this motley crew of gnolls had not overpowered the guards of the caravan and that the scorched ground around the wagons wasn’t from simple torches; but I had no time to consider those thoughts then, for the dragon roared mightily and soared toward me!” The children, and even some wives, crept closer to their menfolk. “All during my fight with the gnolls the thing must have flown closer without my notice.”
“It had been many years since I had seen a dragon, and it was most unusual that a blue dragon would be in such a place as The Shaar. Perhaps, in the last stages of its life it had acted in defiance of death and destroyed this caravan on its way to the Wyrmbones…that place where some dragons go to die…but the fact of the matter was that it now wanted to destroy me as well!” The old wizard took another long drink from his mug and placed it back on the stool. As he turned back to face his audience, his face seemed very full of sorrow and the faces of many of the Old Skull’s patrons were brought low as well simply by seeing this.
“I quickly cast forth a protective spell which would mostly block the terrible power of the dragon’s lightning…most of the power at any rate. The elemental which so gallantly had defended me from the gnolls stood before me in defiance of the greater might of the dragon, the very ground reverberated with its unspoken challenge to the fell drake’s desire to make a meal of me.” The children were awed into stillness at the thought of being the meal of a dragon; as if the great power of dragon inspired fear had reached them through the old man’s tale and froze them on the spot!
“Down from on high it swept, its wings folding back ever so slightly so that it could plunge toward the ground. I could see even from a distance that this blue wyrm had many centuries ago been accorded the lofty title of Great Wyrm…its huge maw was capped by a powerful horn larger than this hearth here behind me, fangs the size of orcish war swords, scales as large and thick as the finest steel shields, and eyes so filled with hatred and evil that few could also discern the cunning that only centuries of life could give! On it came, roaring its hatred for a world that it would soon leave…I could honestly feel the thunderous echo reverberating through the air from as far away as from here to the Tower of Ashaba; and then it was on us!” The old man took a step forward to better loom over his listeners, some of the children let out a little whimper.
“Its fanged maw opened and, quicker than the eye could see, lightning burst forth and cleaved my elemental companion in twain! Had I not been shielded by both the elemental’s body and the magic my Lady deigned to gift me with I too would have died right there and then! Even protected as I was, my magical shield exploded in a bright flash and what strength was left to the dragon’s blast threw me down onto the ground.” The old man plopped down into a high backed chair next to a young farm hand and shook his head in weariness.
“The dragon, no doubt thinking me dead, swept past overhead and with claps of thunder following the furious beating of his wings landed heavily amid the wreckage of the caravan. Lying on the ground as I was, I couldn’t be sure of what to do next. No doubt the dragon intended to feed…and I could not wait for him to decide which morsel would be first on his menu!” Slowly standing again, using the farm hand’s shoulder for support, the old man strode toward the fireplace again…or more like took several tiny steps that others would only need use two or three to the same effect.
“So I did the only sensible thing left to me if I were to keep this great beast from rampaging all the lands about; I stood up!” Again the old story teller seemed to rise up taller than all around and his face took on grim determination. “I knew that if I waited, the beast could again strike at me with its powerful stroke of lightning; so I had to press on immediately before it had time to regain its strength. It sensed my stirring and began to turn back toward me to finish me off. I could hear the grinding of its teeth as it anticipated biting into such a snack as myself, and the air about it fairly crackled with energy as the world around the wyrm responded to its will and began to again give it power!” Those patrons who didn’t have their hair tied back or in place felt it slightly rise, as if the air were charged with electricity.
“Before it had full turned on me, I cast forth an apparition from the shadowy recesses of the dragon’s own mind…a fearsome creature formed into the thing the dragon feared most: a shadowy apparition of a great five headed dragon appeared before me, but I’m sure the blue wyrm saw mighty Tiamat herself stand before him! Sadly for me, dragons are stronger even in the mind than they are in their body…he saw right through my illusion; a ground shaking ‘humph’ was his only reply to my ploy, and then he came on.; charging right through the fading thing before him.”
The old man again stepped forward, bringing himself to stand over the crowd as would a giant over its thralls. “I began to take a few steps back then, if only to buy myself a split second. The dragon didn’t intend to right away eat me though, and it began to call forth its own magical power. A tiny ball of fire, only the size of a little pea, shot forward from one of its talons and streaked toward me, I quickly recited the words of a counter spell and was surrounded by cool blue flames…and then the whole world erupted in scorching and writhing flame as the dragon’s fireball erupted around me!” The fireplace erupted in unison with the old man’s words, and flame shot forth barely missing the old man; the Old Skull’s patrons shuffled back away. The flames died down again to near embers as quickly as they had erupted.
“I was still standing mind you, but the earth around me was laid bare to the rock and the scent of baked earth wafted through the air. Seeing me stand before it still, the dragon roared in anger and came on. I quickly brought forth a bejeweled sword of tiny size, no longer than my own finger. Chanting quickly the words of power for my spell I channeled through the sword the words of power, and a mighty blade of shimmering force immediately cleaved into the dragon’s fearsome face. Ohhhh how it roared in anger!” The floor, walls and even ceiling of the inn seemed to moan in anger which only caused the listeners to look around with apprehension. One customer, his pipe in hand and smoke slowly rising from the corner of his mouth past his wide-brimmed hat didn’t take his gaze from the old man for an instant. The man sat in a corner near the bar and looked intently upon the old man…his eyes seemingly peeling away layers of the feeble looking storyteller’s visage.
“This wyrm was a smart one though; he knew if he would just kill me he would have no more worries of my magical blade that was continuing to cut into him. The big blue came at me in a charge then, I had mayhap a tick and a tock from a Lantanese clock before I was swallowed whole! With little thought I did the only thing I could: I ran! Not on feet mind you, I would have been food just as quick because that big monster was tearing up the earth in great clumps of sod and stone alike in his swift attack….faster than a knight’s warhorse he was! No, I brought to mind a short distance transport spell and blinked away just as his huge maw snapped shut where I had just stood!” The old man’s hands slapped together, but instead of a clap of flesh a sound like stones slamming together echoed through the room to let all know the power of a dragon’s jaws slamming together. Across the room, quick puffs of smoke drifted toward the ceiling as the all too interested pipe smoker continued to gaze intently at the old traveler who sometimes frequented the Old Skull.
Drawing back from the crowd the old man sat again, even more weary than before, upon his own chair next to the fire. “I for sure thought I was not going to make it; I’m sure the Lady herself must have lent my spell haste to aid in my escape. As all good fortune must be balanced by bad though; I was too far gone away to control my magical sword then, and it winked out in tiny motes of light that slowly drifted away and faded to nothing. The dragon craned its neck up then, seeking me out; I’m sure it had recognized the spell that had allowed me to elude him and he wasn’t about to let me get away.”
Taking a deep breath the old man fought off the first prying spell that came from across the room; and his eyes lifted to look upon the pipe smoker across the room. None noticed the flicker of red that drifted across his eyes because of the fire light dancing in the depths of eyes shrouded by heavy brows. No need for that my good Elminster; we can freely talk after I’m done with my tale here. Elminster’s equally bushy brows knitted together in consternation, few there were that could fend off his mental advances. Who are you? was El’s only reply.
The old man only looked back upon his audience, seeing their eager faces made him all the more eager to finish his story. “Aye, seeking me with hatred so great the very air around the great monster began to come alive in anticipation. I knew that he would be able to blast at me again with his powerful breath, and so before his eyes locked on me again I cast yet another shield to protect me, this one stronger than the first that saved my life since I had more time for the casting.” Slowly the man stood again, as if he were ready for yet another round of battle in that very room.
“I had no more finished my spell than the dragon leapt into the air, wings beating furiously to gain altitude so he could better seek me out. It took his keen eyes only moments to locate me; I had taken temporary refuge behind one of the burnt out wagons. Circling high into the air, his magic and wings both taking him ever higher upon the winds, the dragon yet again roared out his supremacy over so small a creature as myself. Believe you me, I felt like so much of a worm on rocky ground as the morning birds circled overhead!” Seeking support from the mantle again, the old man leaned heavily upon it as he continued his story; a little boy asked quite simply “why didn’t you use your magic to get away if you were so scared?” Smiling behind his thick whiskers, the old man seemed to think hard about that question.
“Well lad, there are times in a man’s life when the life he cherishes so much may have to be put forth in sacrifice in order that many others don’t have to pay that price. It isn’t always so, but in the case of such as a rampaging dragon intent on destruction on as large a scale as he can manage before he dies I thought it better that it be me than some poor group of nomads or even hundreds of innocents living in Shaarmid. Do you understand now?” The boy nodded, and so the man continued.
“I managed to gird about me several more spells before the dragon decided to at last finish me off…no doubt he too had been bringing his magic to the fore as he seemingly only flew lazily overhead taunting me with his power. Dragons are wise; more so than many a man who claims the same thing. He knew that it was perhaps possible for me to destroy him; but he also knew that, if he used his own magic in unison with the sheer fury of his physical strength, there are few who could stand against him. And so it was, there I stood with only a fraction of this dragon’s might to call to my bidding; and then he swooped again from the sky to seal my doom.”
“As he plummeted toward me, intent to either crush me with his magic or raw might, I sent my strongest magic forth in hopes of victory. From my eyes shot searing green jets of flame, from my hands a cone of swirling arctic cold, and my mind blasted at the dragon’s thoughts with hopes of somehow chaining the great beast to my will; but all was in vain. The eyefire simply scorched the things flanks, the cold buffeted and cracked some few scales and its mind could not be chained. The dragon responded with an attempt to break my body into dust. Failing that, it attempted to take my thoughts from me and reduce me to the senses of some slug; but my mind was strong and it failed. Having little time left to prepare, I protected myself from its claws the best way I knew how; I placed a cage of pure magical force around me just as the dragon’s claw would have torn my life from this frail frame! In a fury it sped past with equally bruised claws and pride, and in a fit of anger it turned its head and spat white-hot lightning at me. My magical shield held, but again I was forced down onto the ground from the sheer fury of the assault.”
The old man leaned heavily upon his cane and took a deep breath. “I was lacking in the one thing I needed: time. The dragon could simply fly around until my magical protections ended, but the longer I waited the less chance of victory, however small it was, I had. So I made the dragon angry! In a booming voice brought about by my magic I called it a coward and weakling among its kind. I dissipated my cage of force so that I could better move about, and then kept taunting the monster. It took little coaxing from me however; no sooner had I done away with my only protection against its powerful claws, the dragon turned sharply and again swooped toward me in a deep dive that could only be withstood by the earth itself!”
“This time I cast forth an acidic missile that buried deeply in the dragon’s chest, a fireball of my own erupted in the creatures face only to melt away as its magical resistance fought it off. The dragon responded with only one spell: it dispelled all my magical protections! Now surely doomed, I stood waiting for death; and the dragon was more than happy to oblige me. For a third time the dragon’s powerful lightning struck me and I was wracked with pain like none I had ever known. Only when I realized that I was somehow still alive did I notice that the dragon had swooped by; having missed me with its powerful claws only because its breath had blasted me to one side. I stood ever so slowly; in great pain and knowing the great blue wyrm would soon circle back around and finish me off.”
“But how did you live to tell us this tale?” the soft voice of a child piped in. The old man only grinned; “Listen well young one…I’m getting there.” The old man winked and then took a deep breath to bring his tale to an end.
“The dragon did indeed circle around and was quickly descending on me to end my days. I had no spells to muster for my own protection, so I did only what I could. I sent futile bolts of magical force against it that simply melted against its magical resistance to such pitiful spells. I furiously blasted it with yet more eyefire that only did somewhat better and burned the dragon’s neck. The dragon, so sure of my death didn’t even bother to respond with its own magic…so intent was he on ending my life upon the end of one of his lancelike claws. And THERE was his doom!”
“I slowly gathered the magical force for my devious trap…standing before the dragon in apparent helplessness. The brute took the bait and folded his wings back even further, not even a second before he would have me! Before the beast could realize what I was about, the wall sprang up before him! A multi-colored fresco of lights and planes of force designed to stop any attack. The dragon tried in vain to pull away from his dive; his wings flying wide and even his legs beating the air to stop his own death. Such is the might of dragons in all their glory that he very nearly succeeded; but with a loud crack, like Talos’ own thunder, its left wing struck my prismatic wall. The powerful head of the dragon slammed then into the ground and its body continued past until it too slammed hard into the churning earth. So powerful was the force upon the earth that I was thrown from my feet to lay upon the ground myself.”
The weary old man went again to his chair to sit, his breath somewhat ragged and short. “Alas, the thing was not dead; even though my magic had ensured it would never fly with wings alone again. It slowly rolled onto its legs, and I noticed as I stood that it had seemingly broken one of its powerful legs in its awful crash. Its battered head looked upon me with so much malice I thought perhaps I would die then on the spot from that look alone! I was with little magic left to me that I could use against such a beast, but I had no choice but to use magic that is best left untapped. Such magic as I used should only be used in last resort; but of course this indeed was such a time. I held forth my hands and chanted the first of the three spells it would take to slay the now landbound dragon. A single word from my mouth and the great beast was stunned; without ability to then call forth its own magic or even open its gaping maw to lay me low with its lightning. Normally such a spell would have no affect on a dragon, but this one was now gravely wounded and had little fortitude to fight off this type of magic. My next spell struck the dragon with the force of death itself from my pointing finger and drew further life from its quickly clearing eyes; but this was only done to prepare it for one simple word. Just as its eyes cleared and it lunged towards me to slay me I had only to say Die…and so it did.”
As these last words passed the old man’s lips, he looked meaningfully at Mystra’s most powerful Chosen. “It is a sad thing that so powerful and ancient a creature came at last to such an ignoble end…slain by a mere man with the magic of a goddess he didn’t even acknowledge. The moral of the story being children, every great and powerful being must have an end. What matters is what they have done with their life before that end comes. Will you hoard your treasures, whether they are true coins or even bold new ideas; or will you instead grant as many others as you can the benefit of your lives many wondrous delights? I surely hope you will all choose the latter, for by doing so you will ensure that you are remembered even after you are gone. Sadly I don’t even know that dragon’s name or from whence it came…I can only hope it is remembered somehow beyond how it ended in this tale of mine.”
“That is the last of my tale for this night I’m afraid.” Hands all around clapped and many shook the old traveler’s old wrinkled hands for the fine tale which had entertained them that night. Slowly the old man made his way to the bar and laid onto it several coins to pay both for this visit to the Old Skull and his last. Too few in honesty to cover his accommodations and meals, the barkeep gladly took them and was only too happy to forget the rest. After a handshake or three more, the old story teller found himself faced with the promised chat he had offered Elminster. Shall we go outside? Such words as such as we may have are best made far from the eyes and ears of others.
Elminster nodded, and the two quietly walked outside without as much as a word between them. As the door closed behind the old man, he turned toward the Sage of Shadowdale; much quicker than his apparent age should allow for Elminster noted. “Will ye answer my question now?”
“Always so blunt and to the point are you?” Elminster knew the old man’s question was only a small jibe and didn’t bother with an answer when he himself was the one who first asked a question to which he had yet to have a reply. “Well, I will have to tell you then I suppose. In so doing I’m afraid I will never again be able to entertain those good folk within the Old Skull Inn however.”
Ever so slowly the bent old man began to straighten, and as he did so his entire countenance slowly changed as well. His deep green eyes were the first thing to change, becoming as crimson and glowing as those of some feral hunting beast from the depths of the Underdark. His rough-shorn hair and beard slowly flowed into a supple mane of flowing stark white hair, his beard falling away completely. His skin darkened to such a degree that Elminster thought him at first to be some Drow wizard, but his height was too great for such a being.
Standing at last before Elminster stood the seven foot tall frame of an ebony skinned man with a long black staff of some alien alloy clutched in his right hand instead of an old knotted cane. His clothes were the deepest silken blacks and midnight blues to ever be, and his glowing red eyes were set in a stern, and entirely human, face of smooth unwrinkled youth. “I am Dalor Darden.” The tall man bowed low, and with obvious respect. “It is my hope that this encounter will in no way lead to conflict; for such would amount to much ruin in this pleasant place.”
“Ye are the Chosen of Shar aren’t ye?” Not even a question, for Elminster knew the answer. “And a Shade as well no doubt I’ll wager.”
“Indeed I am, but in truth I have no conflict of interest with you or any of Mystra’s Chosen. My choices in life are for my own reasons, and not always for those my Lady would choose for me. I’m sure you understand this more than most.” Elminster only stood in contemplation.
Here before him was obviously a powerful, and no doubt evil, man; yet unlike so many others with such might he didn’t seem to be at all interested in slaying the mightiest of Mystra’s Chosen; which of course only meant he was up to something. “What are ye about then?”
“My purpose will remain known only to me, and not even my Dark Lady can know the depths of my mind. I can assure you however of this one thing: there will come a time when you will name me as an ally at the very least, if not a friend. I am indeed what many would call evil. I see myself as someone willing to do what must be done however, and will always do so. I have come here to offer you a truce before conflict can arise between us. I hope you will accept.”
Elminster stood for only moments before giving answer to the dark wizard’s proposal. “I can in no way say I trust ye, for you serve a goddess which seeks the end of that which I hold dear. Your goddess is an unforgiving thing that would see the light of Lathander brought low, the bounty of Chauntea become barren and rocky plains, and so much more undone that so many rely on. I cannot say I’ll not oppose ye simply because ye wish to not be opposed.”
The Black Arch-Mage, his face totally without emotion simply nodded his head. “Then I hope that I never partake in a thing in which Elminster finds it necessary to oppose me.” Without so much as looking up, lifting a finger, or sounding a word the figure before Elminster simply vanished…gone to who knows where.
Stepping forth from the screen of invisibility they had been standing behind, Storm and Khelben stood in front of Elminster. “A good thing he seems to know better than to attack you El.” Khelben’s grip on his black staff lessened as the possibility of combat was now passed.
“Oh, I think he knew the two of ye were there at any rate. The thing I fear the most is that I think we just saw here what it was even Savras described as a “Void in my divinations about the future” that he reported to Azuth. If this Dalor Darden is what occupies that void, then we may have more to worry about than the Empire of Shade.”
<Break>
Far to the south of Shadowdale, among the towering peaks of the eastern Nathaghal Mountains, the black leather shod feet of Dalor Darden appear in the dark halls of the Obsidian Spire. Sitting behind the desk of polished marble that dominates his personal study, he sighs. “A long journey this will be Zhal-Krex. For so long that they can scarcely remember, the Chosen of Mystra have had to stand in opposition to the Mistress. I wonder if I will ever be able to convince them of my plan.” The Trogor Clan Chief merely stood in silence until ordered to carry out his master’s will.
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The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
Edited by - Dalor Darden on 15 Nov 2008 16:44:47 |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 20 Oct 2007 : 00:43:09
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Like many authors of even short stories, I would appreciate feedback on several different levels.
I'm not looking for things like: "That's good stuff!" or anything...just picking out writing errors or anything at all that could help me.
More precisely, if I ever post anything contrary to Canon, please let me know. By definition: contrary to canon being anything that directly opposes something written by official sources.
Thanks to anyone who can help. |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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george
Acolyte
USA
3 Posts |
Posted - 26 Mar 2008 : 13:59:27
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I very much enjoyed your writing. I wish I could be that creative. Even though I lack your creativity and story telling ability I do okay at editing. I can’t help myself from editing stories as I read them. I notice places that hang and then think how to clean them up. I’ve provided a couple of suggestions below. I don’t want them to be taken as criticism… they are only suggestions. I don’t usually take the time to respond to these type things but it seemed like you are truly interested in perfecting your writing.
Example 1 - cut out extraneous words.
“A good thing he seems to know better than to attack you El.” Khelben’s grip on his black staff lessened as the possibility of combat was now passed.
Cut out “was now” so the last line reads “Khelben’s grip on his black staff lessened as the possibility of combat passed.”
Example 2 – edit clumsy sounding sentences
“Oh, I think he knew the two of ye were there at any rate. The thing I fear the most is that I think we just saw here what it was even Savras described as a “Void in my divinations about the future” that he reported to Azuth. If this Dalor Darden is what occupies that void, then we may have more to worry about than the Empire of Shade.”
“Oh, he knew the two of ye were there… at any rate I fear we just witnessed what it was Savras reported to Azuth and described as a “Void in my divinations about the future. If this Dalor Darden is what occupies that void, then we may have more to worry about than the Empire of Shade.”
Again please accept these suggestions as respectful examples of ways to make the story more readable. Please tell me you write short stories for a living.
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 26 Mar 2008 : 15:42:58
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Nope...I don't write short stories for a living...
I spent many years as a Manager for Fast Food...moved to Montana to be a regional manager for Arby's...now I'm going back to college to get my associates in nursing to become a Registered Nurse.
I AM writing a gaming book though...and a novel to start out the campaign world in that gaming book.
Getting ready to actually post another short here...sort of a stitch in my home campaign that helps transition into the "Spellplague" and all.
Thanks for the input! |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 30 Mar 2008 : 05:01:05
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Instead of posting huge passages of script, I thought I would just place a few lines at a time...keep sort of a journal or what have you.
Deep within the Inner Sanctum of Zalathorm of Halruaa:
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1372, Flamerule 2
“Sheth, yes…Sheth is my name. I am my Black Master’s right hand! I am his eyes in the shadows, his testament of the glorious power he commands. I am Sheth; yes…Sheth is my name.” The tiny whispers of the Mad Messenger could not be heard within the halls of the palace he now stealthily moved within. Few could ever note the passage of Sheth. Once the premier assassin of his master, Sheth was horribly altered with the actions of Bane during the Time of Troubles; saved only by the magic of the Black Arch-Mage Dalor Darden.
“The Master has a message for yooooouuuu. Hahahahaha!” Sheth’s maniacal cackling flitted down the hallway preceding him, the blue-robed servant at the end of the hall turning in time to look for who made such a horrible sound only to find the black-clad Sheth swaying delightedly only two-steps away. The servant’s face drained of all blood and he drew back in horror. Though the creature standing before him danced back and forth as if a child in need of relieving itself and wore a grin that exposed every tooth in its head; the tightly stretched skin of milky white that scarcely covered the sharp cheeks and the wholly black and dead eyes revealed without question that this thing was undead! How had such a monstrosity been able to get into the Inner Sanctum?
“Are you fearful of Sheth? Sheth, yes…Sheth is my name! I am my Black Master’s right hand! I am his eyes in the shadows, his testament of the glorious power he commands. I am Sheth; yes…Sheth is my name!” Prancing around in a circle as he said this, the black-clad Curst made not a single noise other than his maniacal utterances. Suddenly coming to a stop of such alarming alacrity, the Curst closed in two strides the distance to the servant; his undead nose coming tip to tip with the servant so quickly the man couldn’t even react. “The Master has a message for yooooouuuu. Hahahahaha!” The servant fainted dead away.
A short time later another blue robed servant found his fellow servitor laying within the hall, still quite alive…a large leather bound package lying upon his still breathing chest and the word “Zalathorm” crudely etched upon the floor next to the man’s head.
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The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 30 Mar 2008 : 05:10:33
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1372, Flamerule 2
Within the leatherbound package is a letter and what seems to be a small journal; the letter reads:
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Greetings Zalathorm,
It has been long since I have put quill to parchment; the last time I did so without scribing a scroll was in truth the last letter I wrote to your own person concerning The Tome Most Tenebrous. I hope that in these dark times this missive finds you well, as I am no longer able to find time away from my sanctuary to visit you in person. So many demands upon my time require my utmost attention. I must apologize again for sending Sheth with word from me; but for a Curst he is very trustworthy and efficient in the tasks I set for him. I have made him promise that he will cause no harm in your lands while bringing my package to you; I assure you he did not.
As I had promised in my last letter to you, I have sought to detail more fully the contents and manner in which I compiled the aforementioned work for your review as a condition of our mutually respective desires for peace and understanding. It is my wish that your mighty nation of Halruua not see the Shadow Weave as a threat to Mystra’s own magic; but as a balancing force of nature as the Positive, Negative and Elemental Planes serve such a purpose in this world of Toril.
As I agreed upon your willingness to allow my home here upon the north-eastern edge of the Eastwall to remain unmolested, I will provide you with what information I may concerning my own Dark Art. Your concerns that others have embraced the Shadow Weave within your nation are well founded, I know many of these individuals by name…though such information, I’m truly regretful to say, was not part of the accord made between us. Such would need to be a separate negotiation for another time. However, your desire to know as much as possible concerning their ability is indeed within our pact. So without further delay, allow me to detail to you the nature of the Shadow Weave and such magic as contained within The Tome Most Tenebrous; much of which is no doubt known in part by various individuals you now deem as dangerous within your Kingdom. May your wrath toward them be mitigated by our friendship and this writing is my hope.
Ever your tenuous neighbor,
Dalor Nal’Raesik Darden
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The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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george
Acolyte
USA
3 Posts |
Posted - 31 Mar 2008 : 22:34:10
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Arby’s… yum… but nursing seems nobler somehow.
Paragraph 2 suggestion:
A blue-robed servant at the end of the hall turned nervously toward the horrible sound only to find the black-clad Sheth swaying delightedly two-steps away. The servant’s face drained of all blood as he drew back in horror.
- remember these are only suggestions. If you want me to stop let me know. I can be a pain at times. |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 04 Apr 2008 : 00:05:12
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| Thanks for the suggestions George...I'll keep them for certain for my personal notes; but want to leave the original writings on here for future critique by others that may want to insert some input. Great eye on them so far though. |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 04 Apr 2008 : 00:11:15
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The "notebook" included in the package is actually both a journal and a spellbook of sorts...within can be found:
(first part...to be finished in another post)
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To start, allow me to inform you as to the general description of The Tome Most Tenebrous. I have painstakingly constructed it of the finest available materials to ensure its viable survival should it unfortunately come into contact with destructive or other malign forces.
The tome itself is of the double elephant folio size, approximately 52 inches in height and 36 inches in width only. The depth of the book is the most deceptive, as only those who may partake of the full use of the material therein will even be capable of seeing all the pages contained between the bindings; those pages unusable by a wielder of the Shadow Weave simply do not exist as far as such an individual is concerned. Those incapable of using the Shadow Weave may not in truth even perceive The Tome Most Tenebrous without the benefit of either True Seeing or some other equally powerful magic of revealing capable of penetrating the potent magical deceptions I have endeavored to layer the book within. Should such happen, or the book to be held by a true Master of the Dark Arts, then the tome will be found to be a mere 18 inches thick.
The leather covering the adamantine board is crafted of the finest hide from a beast known as the Spectral Panther; one of the most exquisite beasts I have ever had the pleasure of hunting within the far reaches of the Plane of Shadow. The book has no spine, but instead is held together by thirteen seamless rings crafted of adamantine as well. There are no pretentious writings upon the surface of the book; it was not I who gave the book its name, but a former apprentice who, now dead, has left this name with many in his efforts at boasting…such being the manner in which you no doubt became aware of its very existence. There is no clasp binding the book either; any who would manage to steal from me my work would be worthy to use it; and any apprentice seeking its secrets can gain no more from it than they are capable of using. Should I truly wish the book back, I have means to ensure it comes to me by my will.
Upon opening the grimoire, its adamantine pages, shaped to the thinness of the finest velum, are revealed. Having no desire or need to warn those about to peruse the work, there is no warning or ostentatious wording to reveal the supposed superlative nature of my writings contained upon the first page. Vanity is simply not a flaw I possess. It’s nearly pure golden letters, inlaid with the utmost care and precision so as to appear as my own writing, simply convey the contents of each page following the first; with those pages unusable by some simply not being listed, depending wholly upon who currently is reading the tome. Each of these pages is fashioned in an identical manner, with the entire work comprising those magics I saw as most worthy of my time within such a work designed to set forth magic I personally saw as favorites relating to both the Dark Art and the more mundane arts of subterfuge and deception.
The second page, upon the reverse of the first, contains a list of those components, foci and other materials that would be needed to cast, scribe or otherwise use the spells contained within; a list of which I have no desire to copy at this time, but which can easily be surmised by any wizard with the basic education of most Halruaan children I’m sure. It may be that some of the unique magical materials would be unknown, however; thus I will endeavor to list these in the appropriate places.
Upon the next page is scribed the spell Prestidigitation. This minor casting of magic I have found to be imminently useful in my various guises as a traveling wizard of benign nature. In many the town of an enemy I have used this cantrip to amuse and befriend those who thought me nothing more than a passing hedge wizard far past my prime. In conjunction with the telling of stories, I have found it very useful in gathering those about me who would, after becoming fast friends, impart to me information I sought without the need of my casting much more noticeable magics. Every wizard should take heed that often the most potent magic can be that which is garnered by means of patience and the use of inborn guile and treachery.
The pages following this first contain any common spell that would be taught in your lands from the schools of Enchantment, Illusion and Necromancy that are already known to you. I have made special notes for such spells as (and listed in order of appearance) that I have special liking for; several of which are not of the aforementioned Schools of magic; but included by my desire to teach the methods of intrigue as well: Comprehend Languages (useful no matter where you are attempting to gain knowledge), Disguise Self (for the numerous guises any wizard should have for use), Detect Thoughts (with its obvious uses for gathering information…my own preference for doing so without the subject knowing I am attempting such), Locate Object (for searching for those items your information gathering have revealed to you), See Invisibility (for ensuring you are not the subject of another’s hidden attention), Invisibility (for moving unseen among common sorts of little importance when such discovery would simply distract), Alter Self (highly useful for both disguise and more mundane means such as improvised locomotion in unfamiliar environments) and Knock (for bypassing unwanted barriers). You will notice thus far that nearly all of these spells are those which do not rely truly upon resistances of others to determine your success in matters of subterfuge. To truly be a successful master of intrigue, it is best to do those things which will not alert your target, foe or person of interest. Other such spells as these, but of greater magnitude are known to you already and so I will not rehearse them here again.
First I will detail a unique magic of my creation on par with these lesser magics that is very useful; a spell I simply call Discerning Eye, but was once called Dalor’s Discerning Eye. In my research efforts to further the advancement of spells which can both be used for espionage as well as remaining undetected, I happened across this minor divination as the base research for a much more advanced spell. Discerning Eye served me well in my spying upon those who thought they were otherwise safely screened by use of their own magic…spells which would truly prevent such divinations as Wizard Eye, Clairaudience and Clairvoyance. The reason for this is rather simple: Discerning Eye is not a true divinatory spell; but instead is a Transmutation which gives the caster a truly more powerful eye akin to a hawk or other predatory bird. Coupled with the spells additional benefit of imparting the ability to read lips, and Discerning Eye becomes a highly valuable, if slightly limited, spell for use in garnering information. As it is a spell of Transmutation, it is of somewhat less value to wizards in general who may have restricted their use of magic by specializing in one school or another…but I digress. The details of the spell are thus:
Discerning Eye
Transmutation
Level: Drd 1, Rgr 1, Wiz/Sor 1
Components: V, S, M
Casting Time: 1 standard action
Range: Touch
Target: One Person (or self)
Duration: 10 Minutes +1 Min/Lvl
Saving Throw: Yes (Fortitude Neg)
Spell Resistance: Yes
Upon completion of this spell, the target is capable of seeing as much as ten times the normal sight distance of a normal human; but only in a narrow field. The target sees normally, but may focus their vision upon the lips or hands of a person and see all that they say from much farther away. As long as the target of the spell knows the language being used, they can read the lips of the person perfectly. This ability is also useful for reading materials from much farther away, or slowly detailing the close up appearance of an individual without getting so close as would be normally required to see if a guard has a key-ring on their belt or if a person far off is armed or simply a farmer. The spell is too disorienting to enable bowmen to better target a foe, and will actually cause the firer to miss completely.
Arcane Material Component: the eye of any predatory bird.
As one studies deeper into the tome, lesser magics are left behind for those that are truly dangerous and considered even evil by many of the world. What few realize is that there are truly few evil spells; aside from those given by otherworldly powers of the outer planes such as the Hells and Abyss. No, these spells are made of mortals, but their uses are quite terrifying to those who have no grasp of the true art they represent. These greater Illusion, Enchantment and Necromancy magics are again those held as common by anyone with passing knowledge of magic; but included within these spells are some few of my own crafting. While I have a great love of necromantic magics, I have little liking for the undead; so allow me to speak briefly on those spells I created to both combat and manipulate the undead in either physical or spiritual manifestation.
The least of these magics is a necromantic spell called simply “Dalor’s Undead Disruption” which is in truth no different from a fireball; but this spell will only have effect upon creatures who are undead. In my youth, this spell proved highly effective when my comrades and I knew we would be confronting restless spirits and such undead as are often found within tombs that we were robbing. This spell later became highly useful to me during my years as a war-wizard and many were the undead armies that suffered greatly because of it while they were engaged in hand to hand combat with my forces who only suffered by having to breathe the dust of felled undead creatures destroyed by my use of this spell. This spell is a Necromancy spell that attacks the undead force that causes undead to function; its material component is a pinch of Vampire Dust.
Another lesser magic, but of more potency, I created during my younger adventuring days as well. Having fell afoul of servants of the vile Demon Prince Orcus, my band beseeched me to find a means to combat both undead and outer-planar creatures simultaneously. The end result of my research came to be known as “Dalor’s Dark Defeasance” and it enabled me to fulfill the need of combating undead and demons.
Dalor’s Dark Defeasance
Necromancy/Evocation
Level: Wiz/Sor 5
Components: V, S, M
Casting Time: 1 standard action
Range: Medium (100 ft. + 10 ft./level)
Effect: Cloud spreads in 20-ft. radius, 20 ft. high
Duration: 1 min./level
Saving Throw: Will partial; see text
Spell Resistance: Yes
Material Component: bone shards of an evil outsider (consumed in casting)
This spell generates a sparkling cloud of fog that seems to slowly swirl about while all the colors of the rainbow dance within. These vapours will automatically tear apart any undead or evil outsider of 3 or fewer HD (no save). Such creatures with 4 to 6 HD are destroyed unless it succeeds on a Will save (in which case it takes 1d4 points of Will damage on your turn each round while in the cloud). Undead or Evil Outsiders with more than 6 HD take 1d4 points of Will damage on your turn each round while in the cloud (a successful Will save halves this damage). Such undead that have no will are destroyed, while evil outsiders who have lost their will are dismissed to their native plane. Essentially the animating will of such creatures is torn asunder and rent until their essence is swept away.
This cloud of Dark Defeasance moves away from you at 10 feet per round, rolling along the surface of the ground. Figure out the cloud’s new spread each round based on its new point of origin, which is 10 feet farther away from the point of origin where you cast the spell.
Because the cloud seeks the depths of evil, it will sink to the lowest level of the land, even pouring down into tunnels or grave pits. It cannot penetrate liquids, nor can it be cast underwater, but will instead move across the surface of water. Also, since the cloud is not truly made of tangible material, it will not be affected by prevailing winds.
Note: if this spell is used upon an evil outsider in its home plane, it will have no effect on that particular creature.
This spell has served me well, even to this day; I do not pass a day without having it at my disposal. However, the note that I have left was not known to my former apprentice, and is the reason for his demise while attempting to plumb the depths of the Abyss seeking ever more power.
Other more powerful spells of my creation are also to be found within the pages of this work; but such begin to approach the world’s view of that magic which is most evil and should at all costs be avoided. Admittedly, my researches in my later years did indeed take me upon the road of dark discoveries. Much of my amassed knowledge is not that which I discovered in dusty tombs or the well hidden libraries of some fell lich; but instead, my knowledge was gained from dealings with the very infernal beings I aimed to defeat. Such as preening Graz’zt and and mighty Asmodeus, beings of vast power, were those I dealt with; either in treaty, trade or, when I proved too careless, outright conflict. These dark and corrupting spells I will not lay out for you here in such a simple thing as a letter…such must need wait until such time as we two may have opportunity to meet in person.
So as to not leave you with the impression that I am attempting to hide from you knowledge I have already promised to impart, I remind you that I was more than willing to sign our pact upon the very scrolls you now hold in your sanctum; articles so very binding that my life is forfeit should I fail to adhere to the strict wording worked out between us. I truly remember with some awe your ability to detect and avoid wording of mine which, I am not shamed to admit, was solely intended by me to essentially give me what I wanted with no consequence. I salute your intellect King Zalathorm and continue to vow to fulfill my promises as set forth in the aforementioned scrolls.
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(more later) |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
Edited by - Dalor Darden on 28 May 2008 21:28:58 |
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george
Acolyte
USA
3 Posts |
Posted - 04 Apr 2008 : 14:21:17
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Good stuff. It may be a good idea to punch up the start a little. It seems like the creator of The Tome Most Tenebrous is proud of the work done on the book and wants to brag a little. I would let that happen (if that was the direction you were going). I give an example of what I mean below.
“To start, allow me an indulgence. Let me provide a description of The Tome Most Tenebrous. After all, I have painstakingly constructed it from the finest available materials. Most seem unaware of the subtle pleasures gained through quality craftsmanship and attention to detail. Keep in mind this effort yields powerful rewards as well. Should this tome come into contact with destructive or other malign forces my labors will ensure its survival.”
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 04 Apr 2008 : 17:45:32
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| Dalor Darden's primary flaw is that he denies any flaw such as pride...but is full of it. If you read carefully, he even says he has no such flaws...but just his detailed (almost loving) description shows he is indeed prideful. |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Aravine
Senior Scribe
USA
608 Posts |
Posted - 04 Apr 2008 : 17:57:59
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quote:
Originally posted by Dalor Darden
Dalor Darden's primary flaw is that he denies any flaw such as pride...but is full of it. If you read carefully, he even says he has no such flaws...but just his detailed (almost loving) description shows he is indeed prideful.
His primary flaw is that he's prideful, and refuses to beleive it? he's like superman, except his weakness is that he's prideful? |
The brave don't live forever,the cautious don't live at all |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 04 Apr 2008 : 19:34:13
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No...Dalor isn't like superman...he doesn't have it in him to reverse time or anything...he just has a very prominent (almost hypocritical) character flaw that he would deny to his dying day. He is a powerful wizard who thinks his magic is at LEAST as powerful as even that used by the gods...but he doesn't have the other godlike abilities. Once upon a time (i.e. 1st Edition D&D) he was right...his magic was as strong as the Gods and he could stand up to them...he was a 17th level Illusionist and in his upper 20's as a Wizard (I lost that sheet long ago).
These days though, I've rethought what he is all about and realize that he could only stand against Avatars...and then probably be very hard pressed if he was on his best day.
He still has his pride though...and believes that he is the most powerful wizard alive. |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Aravine
Senior Scribe
USA
608 Posts |
Posted - 04 Apr 2008 : 21:56:45
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quote:
Originally posted by Dalor Darden
No...Dalor isn't like superman...he doesn't have it in him to reverse time or anything...he just has a very prominent (almost hypocritical) character flaw that he would deny to his dying day. He is a powerful wizard who thinks his magic is at LEAST as powerful as even that used by the gods...but he doesn't have the other godlike abilities. Once upon a time (i.e. 1st Edition D&D) he was right...his magic was as strong as the Gods and he could stand up to them...he was a 17th level Illusionist and in his upper 20's as a Wizard (I lost that sheet long ago).
These days though, I've rethought what he is all about and realize that he could only stand against Avatars...and then probably be very hard pressed if he was on his best day.
He still has his pride though...and believes that he is the most powerful wizard alive.
he's a age? well then he's better than superman! Superman's weak against Magic, so I doubt he could stand up to an avatar. |
The brave don't live forever,the cautious don't live at all |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 15 Nov 2008 : 16:16:52
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A while back I was going with this just for something to do...but it died out due to starting other things. I have more to post, but really don't want to do so if I don't have anyone with the time to put a "keen eye" into my writing and give me advice.
Is there anyone besides George that has advice to offer about what is here so far? |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 05 Dec 2008 : 19:48:29
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Just for completeness sake, I thought I would link something here from another thread...but I'm not sure how to do that; so instead I copied and pasted. Edit Note: This is, by the way, Dalor as of 1374 DR in my home campaign.
Dalor Darden
The Darkflame, the Black Arch-Mage, the Fiend Seer, the Anti-Mage, the Last One, Lord of Favors
Greater Deity
Symbol: A black flame (sometimes with two red eyes)
Home Plane: Plane of Shadow (portals to the Abyss, Nine Hells, and other Infernal Realms)
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Portfolio: Alien things, caverns, dark, dark favors, dungeons, evil, fiendish dealings, forgetfulness, loss, night, power, secrets, the Underdark, & vice
Worshipers: Shadow adepts, shades, wizards, cultists, fiendish creatures, anarchists, assassins, avengers, monks (Dark Moon), nihilists, rogues, shadow dancers, fiendish creatures and aberrations
Cleric Alignments: LE, NE, CE
Domains: Darkness, Evil, Corruption, Knowledge, Magic
Favored Weapon: “Darkshaft” (Quarterstaff)
Dalor is, simply put, the Lord and Master of Evil. His is the power of dark magic and evil incarnate. His tools are fiendish servants and alien creatures from otherworldly realities. His strength is hidden within fiend cults, evil wizard cabals, the morally corrupt and lone seekers of dark magic for the sake of power. He is the epitome of the power hungry wizard, for he hoards magical knowledge to himself with ever a hungry eye on what can next be gained while eliminating those that have what he does not. He promotes among worshipers this same ideology so that what they bring to the afterlife will be his alone. Dalor most commonly takes the form of an ebon-skinned human about seven feet tall and of athletic build with lustrous stark white long hair that frames a finely chiseled face in which are a pair of glowing red eyes. His only clothing consists of finely crafted unadorned robes of black, a matching hooded cloak and breeches, and black leather knee-high boots. Always in his grasp is a slender staff of pitch black alien alloy that stands exactly as tall as the Black Arch-Mage. He has many other guises, ranging from an elderly sage to a young sycophant.
The Church of Dalor has no central structure at all, as each temple maintains its own base of power separate from (but sometimes in competition against) other temples. Only the rare Solar Eclipse and nights of the New Moon will bring the “Conclave of Dark Seers” together to receive instruction from a servant or (rarely) an avatar of Dalor.
Clerics of Dalor pray for their spells at dusk or midnight; depending on the preference of the individual cleric. Holy days for the entire church are Solar Eclipses, nights of a New Moon (called “Night of the Master’s Eye”), and the Day of Dark Dawning which is a celebration of Dalor taking the power of Shar from her inept hands and destroying her. On nights of a New Moon, clergy often mount attacks against enemies or unsuspecting people who have magic the cleric desires. The individual temples sometimes sponsor magical duels within their deepest chambers and reward the winner with spell scrolls, wands, or other rare items; then raid the holdings of the now dead wizard. Because the church has fewer lay worshipers than other churches dedicated to a Greater Deity, Dalor has actually instructed clerics to attempt to gain converts by use of addictive drugs and mind influencing magic. Many temples have opened brothels and drug parlors to pursue this avenue, and have found that those unworthy of Dalor’s favor still make excellent sacrifices to cement deals with the various fiends that are summoned to do the church’s bidding. To ensure secrecy, new “converts” are promised what it is they most desire (whether it be wealth, power, sex, drugs, etc.) and are sent to the actual temple to undergo rituals to determine which will actually become clerics and which will become slaves or sacrifices.
History/Relationships: The history of Dalor is for the most part a total unknown factor. Short of what other gods and a very few mortals may know; little of anything is known of this god. What is known is: he was born of a race of exceptionally powerful wizards from an alternate prime material plane. This race had once ruled thousands of planets in a star spanning empire; but by the time Dalor was born, all that remained of the empire after a great war was a small continental empire on a single world which was not their native home. For unknown reasons Dalor was banished from this world in his youth shortly before the last remnants of his people were destroyed by godly forces in a great magical cataclysm. This occurred roughly 1,500 years ago; about the same time that Tyr first came to Toril. The young, but greatly powerful, wizard is said to have traveled to many worlds, planes, and even through time itself; eventually gaining such great power that he achieved self apotheosis. Such was the nature of the procedure, however, that he nearly lost himself to forces bent upon the destruction of the very Multiverse itself. Needing to shed this unwanted influence from himself, he found the means upon the world of Toril.
Creating a powerful Avatar named Barak; Dalor vested in it a great deal of his own power (supposedly even giving aspects of his portfolio to it and making it a Demi-god itself), cast it into the lands north of the Moonsea, and then cut it off completely. Thus came to the Pantheon of Faerun the Demi-god of Power, Conquest, Tyranny, and War named Barak shortly before the Time of Troubles. Not without contingency plans for disposal of his alter-ego, Dalor saw to the destruction of the Demi-god by way of manipulation of several mortals and gods during the Time of Troubles.
Now free of the outside influences which brought about his ascension to godhood (and having regained his temporarily lost power as well as having endeared himself to several mortals and a god suspected to have been Bane; who many now blame Dalor for helping to return to Faerun) Dalor set about attaining the power he truly desired. Once again manipulating mortals and gods alike, the Demi-god Dalor (claiming the portfolio of the Deity of Power, Fiendish Dealings, and Alien Things) began a strategy to ensure his ascent to his current station. In an as yet to be understood plan, he began to awaken the long dead deity Amaunator the Sun God within the lands of Chessenta by granting spells to those who would accept the teachings of this god as taught (truthfully despite his nature) by Dalor himself who posed as the Oracle of Amaunator. Further plots, some involving the power of the now awakened Sun God, involved bringing the City of Shade back from the Plane of Shadow, opening of numerous new Shadow Magic Portals and Gates throughout Faerun, the sound defeat and enslavement of Tiamat’s Avatar in a spectacular battle outside the City of Akanax, breaking Shar’s grasp on the Shadow Weave by destruction of a Shadow Weave artifact and mass desertion of her worship by the City of Shade to the worship of Dalor, and finally his ascent to his current power which resulted from unknown means of a ritual involving the destruction of the Shadow Weave artifact and the avatar of Tiamat he had chained by his magic; the end result being the death of Shar, Mystra claiming all magic, and Dalor becoming a powerful God in his own right.
Dalor has become, in short order, one of the most powerful gods in Faerun; but it has brought him many enemies. Many speculate that his aiding Amaunator was only done to maintain a balance within the pantheon as mandated by Ao; and the Sun God now calls Dalor an enemy because of this manipulation and their diametrically opposed portfolios. The deities Cyric, Talos, and Bane resent his power; and now call him enemy alongside such gods as Selune, Lathander, Tiamat, Mystra, Kelemvor, and others; though Mystra, now changed by taking the mantle of the Shadow Weave, is often neutral concerning Dalor and his advances of obviously deceitful love he professes. Counted among his allies (if they can be trusted) would be the deities Beshaba, Gargauth (as a fiendish intermediary), Mask, Velsharoon (who has totally gone over to allegiance to Dalor), his son Zal-Kaeth, grandsons Vhalketh and Zaelnan, and various fiendish powers such as Baphomet, Grazzt, Orcus, Pazrael, and even (if rumors can be believed) Asmodeus; who is said to have given his favored daughter Glasya to Dalor in marriage to cement some pact.
Dogma: In the scheme of the gods themselves, the purpose of life is gaining power. The gods work ceaselessly against each other to gain more followers who give them power; why should mortals be any different? Seek out magic which will give you power and use those who can do your bidding to increase your strength; whether they be a easily manipulated paramour or a dangerous fiend. Evil is a power none can deny, for the infinite legions of the Abyss and the Nine Hells are an inexhaustible source of power to be used against enemies. Seek out knowledge of any kind that can only be found where others fear to tread. Advocate the use of dark magic by showing its power against the weak and frayed powers of light that slowly crumble as light attempts to treat all equally and thus disperses its own power. Destroy the enemies of the Darkflame who would stand against his power, and use their magic to further his will. Do not oppose the power of the Black Arch-Mage, for no force is his equal; he has at his disposal the legions of the infernal realms and the unfettered might of darkness to command. In the end, Dalor will control all and only those of use to him will be given some measure of power to use for his glory.
Clergy and Temples: Dalor’s clerics are almost all power hungry; and use whatever means at their disposal to gain power and keep it. They congregate in lands where their evil natures can actually aid them in their pursuits; while elsewhere they are most often lone individuals who either live in reclusive towers in pursuit of dark researches or travel about in search of lost magic. They sometimes sponsor dark academies where the only price for attending is not being the last to graduate from your class; for if you are, your soul is forfeit to the very fiendish instructors who you once learned magic from. A rare cleric will actually take on the role of sage and seer, willing to aid others with knowledge for payment in evil magical items or other things best left unsaid. The vilest of his clergy usually become so wrapped in their dealings with fiendish and alien creatures that they often become diabolical and/or alien themselves. Such men and women are friend to none and will even destroy other followers of Dalor in their mad schemes for more power. All temples to Dalor seek out Paladins that can be corrupted into Blackguards who further their master’s power; and even raise from adolescence young boys and girls to serve as unholy warriors who train as fighter/clerics or fighter/Divine Champions.
Temples to Dalor vary wildly in their layout, location, and strength. Most are hidden affairs known only to the actual clerics and other worshipers who live there. Some few are little more than shrines where a “kindly” sage in good cities retreats to perform evil rites when the unlucky fall within their grasp. Dalor is not a deity of absolute darkness per se; and his temples are not the typical brooding dungeons those of good disposition would expect them to be. He expects his followers to display the might of their patron god in the temples; and so displays of finely crafted halls, extensive libraries, laboratories, rich tapestries, golden objects of art, and well equipped guards will certainly be found within temples who can afford such. Less prominent temples will still be found within well maintained structures and have at least a fine altar with well guarded adjoining rooms.
Clerics of Dalor dress uniformly in darker colors, with black, dark gray, midnight blue, or deepest purple nearly always prominent. Clerics strive to obtain the finest armor and weapons they can gain; some even going so far as to learn the skills of armor-smith or weapon-smith. Clerics are not required to display the holy symbol of their deity; but it will always be upon their person.
The most prominent temple of Dalor, known to outsiders, stands near the Thayan city of Eltabbar. The structure is a massive tower a hundred feet in diameter and three hundred feet tall; with a writhing mass of black fire stretching into the sky another one hundred or so feet. A ring of thirteen smaller towers, each thirty feet in diameter and ninety feet tall, surround the central structure and are joined by an imposing fortified wall bristling with minarets and the spears of patrolling guards. The courtyard between the central structure and the wall is a garden paradise filled with all manner of welcoming pleasures to tempt outsiders. Access is granted freely every day to any who wish to convert to the worship of Dalor; but after entry, none are ever allowed to leave without permission. The mistress of this glorious edifice is said to be none other than Dalor’s own wife Glasya; but none can confirm having ever seen her or even heard her name spoken within the halls. Few wish to speak her name at any rate, for she is the daughter of Asmodeus himself, Arch-fiend of the Nine Hells.
An order of powerful Blackguards and Divine Champions (guided somewhat by Clerics and Wizards) resides in the land of Chessenta; rulers of the equally powerful City-State of Akanax. The city was where Dalor began the resurrection of the god Amaunator; but the citizens of that city have been converted to the worship of their former “Oracle” after he openly proclaimed himself outside the city of Cimbar which the legions of Akanax were besieging. The Scions of the Dark Lord are a highly motivated and organized order with no qualms about destroying whole cities which refuse their power. They are the driving force behind an effort to re-unite Chessenta; and have a solid chance of success. Their efforts have recently been opposed by the concentrated efforts of Tiamat’s own clergy and adventurers who are rumored to actually be the mortals who unwittingly helped Dalor gain his power.
The true heart of Dalor’s faithful exists in the nation of Dambrath. Once a land ruled by only barbaric half-drow clerics of Loviatar; Dalor has stripped the people of this land away into his own church completely. The cities have each been given in alliance with some fiend or another by the Black Arch-Mage; and each fiend is given worship here alongside the Darkflame; Lord of Fiends. Many believe Dalor is attempting to found his own Pantheon of Deities in the south. Within Dambrath are temples devoted to the Dark Gods: Dalor, Zal-Kaeth, Glasya, Vhalketh, and Zaelnan; all related to Dalor. Despite the nations obviously evil bent, it is heavily involved with negotiations in several neighboring lands for trade and peaceful existence. To the abject horror of many, a new faction of Shadow Adepts within Halruaa are trying to violently force unification with their Dark Lord’s growing empire. Open battle has yet to occur within Halruaa; but most suspect civil war is close. If such a war happens within Halruaa, many say the dark legions of Dambrath would happily invade, as they have done before, to create a “Dark Empire” in the south despite their overtures of peace and trade.
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The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
Edited by - Dalor Darden on 05 Dec 2008 20:14:33 |
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ErskineF
Learned Scribe
USA
330 Posts |
Posted - 12 Dec 2008 : 05:14:59
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I really enjoyed the stories. I found the description of the battle with the dragon very gripping. When he revealed his true nature to Elminster, I was taken by surprise. That wasn't what I expected at all.
I don't know if you want us to go through and pick out specific items that might need editing, or if you're just looking for general advice. If the latter, I think George summed it up well. Like him, I noticed a few places where the wording could be fine tuned. I have to constantly fight against using extraneous words, so naturally they're the first thing I notice in other people's writing.
You handled the description of the battle very well. I find it awkward to do a round-by-round description of D&D combat. Real combat doesn't proceed by rounds, but, if you're writing for a D&D audience, the reader will wonder things like, how the hell did he cast twice in one round?? To take that format and render it into something dramatic and readable is quite an accomplishment. I also liked your desciptions of the magic, and how it worked.
Regarding the content, Dalor is a great character. He is what one of my nephew's character's aspires to be. I will send him the link to this story so that he can read it. He'll enjoy it. At one time, I was DMing a game for him in which his character became a Shadow Adept. I ran the game via IM, and typed up the exchanges in story form. It's incomplete and not an example of great fiction, but if you would like to look at it, it's here:
http://forgotten-realms.wandering-dwarf.com/shadows/shadows_toc.html
(The titles for Chapter 7 are just me tweaking my nephew's nose. He's not dead. Yet.)
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Erskine Fincher
http://forgotten-realms.wandering-dwarf.com/index.php |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 12 Dec 2008 : 15:52:51
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Thanks for the feedback Erskine...that is indeed what I'm looking for is feedback.
I should note that what is seen on this list are two very different Dalor characters. The one that isn't a God and the one that is that I decided to use in my own DMing. The Dalor in the story is MY own character...and in no way a god. He is only a Shade...and was a Shade in the Forgotten Realms many long years before the Shades actually came to Faerun. He became a Shade in 1st Edition Forgotten Realms.
The God Dalor Darden is an NPC variation...but is in no way related to the previous story character. I only created him to have a much more evil and sinister Greater God in my own Forgotten Realms. Shar and others have lost a great deal of their mystery in my home campaign...so I thought new gods were needed.
I'll have to check out your material...plan to do so tonight actually after I get off work!
Thanks again! |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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ErskineF
Learned Scribe
USA
330 Posts |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 13 Dec 2008 : 06:10:46
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quote:
Originally posted by ErskineF
Cool!
Are you going to continue posting stories about the non-deity Dalor here?
Aye, I am...
Nice maps by the way! I wanted to use CC2, but I have no patience for computers in all honesty...I'm on them for games and Candlekeep mostly.
I will be posting more on Dalor soon...especially the next parts on the Tome there... |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 09 Aug 2010 : 07:32:48
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Talk about forgetting something on your "to do" list!
I think I post too much... |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Alystra Illianniis
Great Reader
USA
3750 Posts |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 16 Aug 2010 : 20:09:13
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When I'm done with The Ride project, I'll be putting more stories up...
someday... |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 10 Mar 2011 : 07:49:46
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The players in my last DnD game were hell bent on stopping the growing insanity of a man named Dalor Darden...
Below is a piece of that story; written years ago, so please excuse any silly "non-canon" lore you read. It was OUR Realms and not THE Forgotten Realms...
I'll break it into parts.
Part 1
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“RAVEN!” The booming voice forces you to turn. Standing upon an icy peak the air is very nearly non-existent. Before you a whirling mass of birds, the very sort of which you are named for, slowly coalesces into the shape of a powerfully built old barbarian. Sitting upon his shoulders are a pair of ravens. Looking all about you, there can be no doubt that you are dreaming; the mountain you stand upon floats in the vastness of a black void and there are no stars or sun to shed the light with which you see so clearly.
“Yes, you are not really here elf-child.” Looking back upon the old man you realize that his face is missing one eye; but instead of an empty socket you see the whirling of many stars and even a rainbow…it is as if an entire universe exists within what should be a void there. You feel yourself sinking into this new universe, but are suddenly pulled back by the powerful voice of the man before you. “Listen well child, my time with you is dearly bought. I am known by many names, but Shifty Eyed shall serve for our meeting.”
You recognized that name when coupled with this face, even in this dream…a thing that elves do not have; and so instead it must be a vision within your reverie you surmise. Your elven mind easily recalls the knowledge that the Faerûnian god Tyr came to your world from another godly realm where he served Odin, the chief god of a barbaric pantheon who was also known as Shifty Eyed among many titles. “There is no time for lessons little Raven, only time to give you knowledge you shall need.”
“Long ago as reckoned even among your race, a young human man was born into a world where magic was mine to command. In various guises I stood as the Master of Magic in this world; this is my way. This man-child was the son of Raesik and Raelia Darden; both powerful wizards within the Empire of Alphatia. His last name no doubt gives you his first…which I shall not speak as he would know it. Be mindful of this little Raven: a god knows its name, and to speak it will always make the god aware of you. No force can deny it.”
“Into Mystara, the world in which rested the last vestiges of the Alphatian race was he born; a world rich in magic and ancient in civilization. See now what you must know!” Your eyes can see nothing, a black void taking even your breath; and then you are seemingly floating above a woman in terrible agony.
All about her are other women attending the screaming woman. Her body is delicate and frail, but in her eyes you can see a fiery power that is both certain and familiar at once. “You must push Raelia! Your child is eager to take magic into his hand, do not hold him back!”
The woman Raelia only looks at the woman who had spoken and the servant pales before the fury of Raelia’s face. Screaming again she speaks only in spurts. “Syn…” another gasp escapes her mouth. “Syn told me…told me the child would….YAAH!” Raelia’s pain increased her strength and her long nails brought blood to one of her servant’s arms as again she yelled in pain. Gathering her strength she again speaks, “Syn has told me her Mistress has seen dark omens for my child!” Panting heavily she continues, “I must wait for the priests to perform the purifying rituals before he is born and his fate is set!”
Even as the woman says this you feel as if other beings, also unseen by those below you, have arrived and now watch as the scene unfolds. One is a child, the other a matronly woman, and the other an old crone. You realize they see you, but they ignore you and simply seem to wait.
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The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 10 Mar 2011 : 07:50:38
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Part 2
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“The child will not wait Raelia, he must be born or you will both surely die! If the child dies in birth no magic will bring him back…now do what you must and allow him to live!” Things begin to flow before you faster. The priests do indeed arrive and begin the rituals, but before they are complete the child is born. The old crone beside you reaches out an ethereal hand and touches the newborn on his forehead; amazingly he flinches away and looks at the old woman with deep emerald eyes, then begins to cry. He cries loudly and with great strength; and you suddenly realize that perhaps a child cries at birth because it then knows its fate after the touch of this old crone.
Stepping forth next from their ethereal place of audience is the youngest apparition, who also touches the forehead of the newborn child; then the infant ceases its crying as the nursemaid who is holding him washes him and wraps him in soft cloth. When this is done, the matronly ethereal woman steps forward to seemingly inhabit the same place as the woman carrying the baby to its mother; unseen arms caressing the child and whispering unknown words into its ear.
The doors to the bedchamber burst forth and in strides a tall and powerfully built man as Raelia is handed the infant by both nursemaid and apparition. “Look Raesik, it is a boy as we were told it would be!” Raelia’s voice is soft and much weakened after her ordeal. The long braids of the red haired man hang to the sides of a stern face of alabaster skin, his emerald eyes very dark and foreboding.
“Did the priests complete the ritual before he was born?” The utter despair in his wife’s eyes told him all he needed to know. “Had the child been a female Dolor, or Sorrow, would have been her name; but a man-child may not have a woman’s name, so I name him Dalor.”
The world spins quickly before your eyes. You have followed the infant for the length of his early years, until he is perhaps nearly a decade old. Many times the emerald eyes of the boy have seemingly noticed you; but he would only seem to look through you at something else. His parents are rarely near, but tutors and nurses constantly stand or sit with him at all hours. His life is one of plenty, but he has yet to even set foot on grass in all his years. Standing only on an impossibly high balcony, looking out over a city the likes of which you have never imagined, is his only contact with the outside world.
From this balcony you have watched the masses outside go about their lives in a city you have come to know as Sundsvall; capital city and prized jewel in the Empire of Alphatia. Half a million souls live within its walls. Mighty stone giants tend to the stone walls and buildings, while kobold servants sweep the streets. Great sky-ships, with designs unlike any ship you have ever dreamt of, sail the skies; some so large that regal golden dragons can actually land upon their decks and not even cause the massive vessel to teeter. Very rarely you have seen the nearly transparent bubbles of magic known as a Duel Sphere take form over the skyline of Sundsvall and two wizards battle until one is consumed in the magic of another; their magic so powerful that, even through the protective barrier of the Duel Sphere, the sky quakes at times.
You have come to know that wizards rule this city and beyond into an empire that numbers in the millions. The Empire of Alphatia calls citizen any being capable of wielding magic and on the streets of Sundsvall can be found elven wizards conversing with orcish shamans. The young Dalor has come to know this as well, and has already claimed his position as citizen at a very early age. His eyes gleam as he sees Sundsvall every day…whether with pride or desire you cannot tell.
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The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 10 Mar 2011 : 07:51:22
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Part 3
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Again many years quickly spin before your eyes and you have followed Dalor into his teenage years. His family has moved beyond the palatial home he was born into and into a palace the likes of which has never existed in your sight before. The Imperial Palace of Alphatia…home of the Emperor. Raesik Darden has become the mentor of the Emperor’s own daughter, the Princess Eriadna…and Dalor is her classmate. The young woman looks very familiar somehow, but the blur of rapidly passing time quickly takes the thought from your mind.
It was only a short while before Dalor impressed the Princess with his already great knowledge of magic; by the time the two were only fifteen years old the young boy had been accepted to become an assistant in the Grand Council of the empire; a position usually given only to older men with many years of experience with magic. Dalor performed well during his exam however, so well that the tests had to be re-evaluated. Many days you have watched the young man, always with determined eagerness in his eyes, sit behind this Arch-Mage or that as the 1,000 member Grand Council debated endlessly on one topic or another. His great skill in magic, devotion to her father’s empire, and zealous attention lavished upon Eriadna herself soon brought Dalor and Eriadna together as more than friends.
Years roll onward and Dalor’s strength becomes greater as his life takes him on many harrowing adventures. He serves gallantly when Alphatia and their enemy empire Thyatis go to war. Many times Dalor battles fiercely in the war, inventing powerful magic to be used on the battlefield, until the armies of Alphatia actually take the city of Thyatis itself; only to be pushed back and forced to lose all they had gained because of crucial situations being mishandled by the Alphatian Emperor. Emperor Terari is forced from his throne in humility, and Eriadna installed as Empress by the Grand Council…and here begin Dalor’s dark days.
Feeling betrayed by the military life he had chosen, Dalor begins to assert himself politically, no man who does not sit upon the Grand Council may wed an Empress; so was the law of Alphatia. More bitter is the fact that Dalor is now not even allowed in the presence of the Empress, his love, because he is not a ruler or a true noble. Only if his father and mother were dead or he sat upon the Grand Council would he be allowed in her presence. Murder is not in his character, but ambition is. Already an Arch-Mage, perhaps even more powerful than many who sit within the halls of the Grand Council, Dalor sets about obtaining what, in his words, is “Rightfully due someone of my power.”
As years whirl past the young man nears his third decade and has truly gained much power. He has encountered for the first time the demon Yeenoghu, and forced his mastery upon the fiendish lord of the gnolls. He has plunged into the very depths of the Abyss and remained unscathed after doing battle with the raw fury of Orcus himself; and forged powerful items of magic which have only increased his magical might. He has traveled to the Floating Kingdom of Ar in the northern reaches of the Alphatian Empire and made one of its flying islands his stronghold. Thousands of warriors serve his will in battle against the Jun slave uprisings in Esterhold, where he is at last given the reward of a petty kingdom to claim as his own. It is too late however.
Eriadna has been forced to marry and bear children to ensure heirs. Dalor is not allowed to see the Empress outside of her appearances within the Grand Council; his efforts have been in vain. In blind fury he gathers the entirety of his strength, masses it upon his flying stronghold, and assaults the city of Sundsvall with thousands of gnolls, |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 10 Mar 2011 : 07:52:08
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Part 4
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mercenaries, newly freed slaves; other malcontents join him in hopes of bringing a new order to an empire which has been reeling since its defeat by Thyatis years before.
Dalor easily destroys Eriadna’s husband in magical battle in the sky above the Imperial Palace; but his forces are overwhelmed by the aroused ire of the Grand Council. The one thousand Arch-Magi of the world’s greatest magical civilization easily devastate his conspirators and amassed forces; but this is his intention. From atop the highest tower of the Imperial Palace, Dalor invokes a powerful curse spell, while any who could oppose him are occupied, and the entire city of Sundsvall falls asleep “Until the love I have always given to my Empire, and thus my Empress, is returned!” The Arch-Mage’s curse is immediately broken.
Dalor is then confronted by his own mother, his father having been sorely wounded in battle against his own son’s minions. Despondent, the young wizard surrenders to her and is taken before the Grand Council the following day. It is judged that he shall be executed. His own father will be his executioner.
Finally, without care as to the consequences, Empress Eriadna claims Dalor as her husband. Eriadna “the Wise” is confronted by the Grand Council which states that she may not wed a criminal according to the law. Eriadna says simply, “You have not stripped him of his title as King of Esterhold, or am I mistaken?” Before a vote can be counted, Eriadna weds Dalor. Since no Emperor or Empress may be executed, the Grand Council invokes the punishment of Alphaks upon Dalor.
“You may not return to this realm until such time as all who now stand alive within this chamber no longer live in any form.” With only a single embrace with Eriadna allowed to him, Dalor is then cast out from Mystara and into the Astral Plane. Blackness again envelopes your sight; until at last it clears to once again reveal Odin before you.
“I know not all things that transpired for him after this moment little Raven; but I do know what has caused so much hatred and bitterness to form within his soul. Watch you now what transpired a mere six years after his banishment from his home.”
Your eyes again are shrouded in dark clouds that slowly give way until you are flying high above Sundsvall. You rapidly ascend into the sky above, the world becoming ever smaller beneath you until you can see the mighty Isle of Alphatia beneath you; the central gem in a crown of islands and continents which comprise the Empire of Alphatia.
The winds begin to swirl beneath you, slowly pulling the clouds for hundreds of miles around into an ever more rapidly spinning mass that slowly gathers over the Isle of Alphatia. You then feel something similar to the sensation you felt when the magic left Faerun during the Time of Troubles when the Gods walked the earth and more recently when Mystra and Shar went to war: your connection to magic leaves you. Magic has not disappeared from Mystara; but instead it seems to be gathering menacingly within the mass of clouds above Alphatia, the massive eye of the storm forms above the city of Sundsvall.
Odin appears beside you then. “This was caused by a fell artifact from beyond this world. Before the Alphatians came to this world, they existed as the most powerful empire in creation; their empire spanned entire worlds. In a great civil war the Followers |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 10 Mar 2011 : 07:52:46
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Part 5
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of Flame and the Followers of Air destroyed their civilization with mighty artifacts which they used against each other. This was one of those artifacts.” The god frowns.
Below you, after what seems to have been hours, the storm at last erupts. Millions die in the conflagration. So fierce is the raw magical power released upon the island that the very earth gives way and crumbles beneath it. Immense tidal waves crash upon shores that dissolve into the ocean and cities are washed away. When all is done there is only a single chain of mountains left above the waters, and even here there is no life. Where Sundsvall once stood, only a whirling and raging vortex remains; magical lightning playing along the sides of the raging waters as it drops away into thousands of feet of water.
“He blames me for this primarily. I did indeed know it was going to happen weeks before it did so; but I could not directly interfere. The Glantrians or Flaem as the Alphatians called them, descendents of the Followers of Flame, were mortals wielding a magical device created by the ancestors of the Alphatians themselves. It was their fate to end thus from what they had wrought with their own hands.” The god beside you still frowns heavily behind his thick white beard. “Even had I decided to stop the cataclysm, I could not have done so without giving some evil god free reign to then destroy something else to balance my interference.”
You blink and find yourself shrouded thickly in mists. Standing, or more floating, before you is Dalor Darden himself. The black clad Arch-Mage seems completely different here. Still adorned in the same clothes, his face is instead the face of but a normal man. His skin is greatly weathered, and it reminds you greatly of his father Raesik. His long white hair is instead gray and seemingly unhealthy; it frames the weathered face that seems creased with worry and sorrow. There is malice and hatred aplenty however; hard eyes filled with anger stare down at the eternal maelstrom which hovers above the vortex that leads down to the watery grave of Sundsvall.
“If only I had been here.” The man before you seems to sit, but still stairs down upon the world beneath him while floating high above. “I suppose it would have at least allowed me to rest beside you…to comfort you when the magic failed and let you know I would be with you.” The old man takes a deep breath that shakes his body as it leaves him. “I can’t imagine the horror you felt, bereft of all magic and unable to even flee the death that formed above you.” Anger contorts the old man’s face. First his skin begins to gray, then smooth out before finally becoming the black of obsidian; his emerald eyes slowly begin to glow and finally flash crimson. Where no wind exists, gathering magic begins to toss his now silken white hair about. His legs stretch out beneath him as his robes slowly begin to become rigid and hard; sharp spikes and spines begin to form along edges of now blackened steel plate armor. The fully armored figure before you begins to grow until he is easily twice the height of a human. A shadowy apparition begins to form in his left hand, slowly becoming solid and taking on the shape of a two headed mace.
“The gods will pay for their lack of caring. Damn their rules to the Void! They demand their worshipers lay down their own life so that others can live, but not one god will sacrifice himself so that MILLIONS might not perish! I will destroy them all, and there shall then be no need for a god to save a mortal from magic; because there will be no magic!” The booming voice before you pounds your chest even from hundreds of feet away; but still you watch because you know you are only watching what has come before. Odin stands beside you with his eyes closed; sweat actually forming on his |
The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 10 Mar 2011 : 07:53:36
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Part 6
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forehead. Are you really not here? What is the need for the mist? Why would Odin, a Greater God, have need for hiding himself from Dalor Darden?
A voice in your mind belonging to Odin breaks your thoughts, “What you see now is what my Avatar as it spied upon his last visit to Mystara saw. It did indeed have need of hiding; a portion of my essence could not stand against his full unbridled might.” Your curiosity satisfied, you look on and listen.
“I name this weapon Dvesti! It will be the bane of all gods as my hand wields it in their destruction! It will be the instrument of my hate! Do you hear me you cowards! You will all die! I no longer care what Nyx has said will come! I tire of this immortal game you play with creation. It can crash down into the depths of the Abyss for all I care any longer!” Raging magical energy soars toward the furious god before you from the depths of the swirling vortex below and swirls around him. “I will take this magic of my people and destroy the gates of the heavens and hells to make you pay for what you do not have the courage to do!”
As you watch, the magic around him seems to slowly seep into his form until only a single mote of light floats before him. A tiny voice, barely heard emanates from the light. “Dalor, do not do this.” The voice is hauntingly familiar, but you cannot place it.
“Get away from me woman. You may wear the face of Eriadna, but she is gone. You will take the magic of the Dark Weave soon and be as you should be. No longer will Mystra exist, but Midnight shall be born again and free of the yoke you have imposed upon her with the Weave.” The mote of light before Dalor begins to take on the shape of a beautiful woman, and it hits you like a bolt of lightning. All the statues and pictures you have ever seen of the Goddess Mystra, who in her mortal existence was known as Midnight, look nearly identical to Eriadna.
“Dalor, you know that indeed I am not Eriadna; nor was Midnight the reincarnation of her either.” The very armor on Dalor’s face contorts in rage. “You LIE witch! If Midnight was not the reincarnated soul of Eriadna then tell me where her soul is! Show me her soul and I will cease my war upon the gods and be content! I will not give up my work to release her from your clutches woman. Why would I have ever bowed before you and pledged my life to you when I have never done so for any other? I would not! The only thing that keeps me from destroying you here and now is that she is tied to your godly essence Mystra. Do you think it is coincidence alone that her name is Midnight? When I finally force you to take the Dark Weave as well as the Weave you will no longer simply be a mortal being used by a emotionless goddess to ensure her own survival; you will have the power to break free and finally remember!” The goddess, seemingly so frail and small in front of the imposing form of Dalor only shakes her head sadly.
“You have stolen something that you can’t control Dalor. Holding Shar prisoner will not bring you the power to force anything on me. While you are indeed stronger than any other god in Faerun right now, Shar will eventually break free. Your manipulations, plots, scheming, infernal dealings, and quests for power will eventually all crumble around you and destroy you. Isn’t that what you see in Cynosure?” Dalor visibly shrinks before you and the armor falls away completely until only black robes whip around him and his silky white hair blows across his face.
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The Old Grey Box and AD&D for me! |
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Dalor Darden
Great Reader
USA
4212 Posts |
Posted - 10 Mar 2011 : 07:54:18
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Part 7
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“You do not know what I see in Cynosure woman. It will not be long before I will do what I must to gain Eriadna back Mystra. This is your last warning, so heed it well witch: give her to me or suffer the consequences.” And then he is simply gone.
Mystra looks down toward the vortex of water beneath her. There is no remorse or sadness in her face, only a simple look of resignation. “Would that Ao did not allow you to do what you have done Dalor. My only hope is that now is not the time when the end begins; and that simple grief will not be the instrument fate will use to start it.” Taking a deep breath she does not need, Mystra vanishes as well.
The mists around you vanish and with them the scene below; again you stand upon an icy mountain that floats in nothing. “You have seen what I want you to see little Raven. Now hear the last of my words and do as I bid you.”
You sit up with a start, your “dreaming reverie” slipping rapidly away. Sitting beneath the eves of the High Forest within the Citadel of the Nine you know something has just happened but it takes you many minutes to recall what it is that you just experienced. What exactly was this thing? Was it a vision from a god with no power in the world of Toril upon which you live? Perhaps, instead, it was another trick of Dalor to prevent you from opposing him. You do not know.
If it was Odin, why did it cease? If it was Dalor, why did he not give you instructions as Odin as to what you should do? Did the events in the vision even happen, or are they just another ploy by Dalor to throw off even the gods? Perhaps you should seek the council of your comrades. Any time now the wood elves will be leaving through the gate into the Border Forest north of Tethyamar to see what help they can provide to Mort. Once you find Myste she can use her magic to gather all the others together and you can decide what it all truly means.
Standing up you begin to walk to where you will find Myste. As you do so, you realize that you are being watched rather intently by a Raven which flies from one branch to another as you wend your way through the trees. When you stop and look at it, it becomes spooked and flaps off into the trees…
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Dalor Nal'Raesik Darden
