A visitor from far to the South

[Earavien Erinen]

Serena stumbled wearily into town. Her veil was smudged and dirty, her robes tattered. "Still properly covered", she thought, proudly adhering to the ways of her mother. "Not like these Northern women, how can they wear so little? Have they no shame?", she said to herself. She chided herself for her intolerance, remembering that her mother had taught her to be forgiving. Although her father's blood ran hot and fiery in her veins, her mother had raised her as human. Her familiar, Mizar, fluttered at her shoulder, the breeze from his wings fanning her hair. The fire mephit was a curse, the priests said, legacy of her father's sins. She doubted that; Mizar was her sole comfort in this world, now that she had left her family behind.

Her companions, a northern Barbarian and an infidel priest led the way into town. She had met up with them on the outskirts of Daris; hoping to make allies quickly in this land, she had offered to accompany them on their adventures. "I need to find strong warriors and mages to assist my people", she thought. "The drought has weakened us and the Djinn are too fierce." She hated the thought of owing her life and the lives of her family members to Northerners; she knew they would only do her bidding because of their desire for gold, but she had no choice. Ah the place of her birth! The hot sands called to her blood, her brother's honor, her mother's face as beautiful as the full moon. How she missed it so in this cold, dreary land.

As she passed the store called "Gnomish Wonderations", her companions called for a halt. They were sore weary, and needed supplies. She fingered her meager coin reserves and realized she needed to buy a few quivers of bolts. Her magicks were strong, but she trained with a crossbow in case they failed her.

As she left the shop and was rejoining her companions, she felt a sharp, cold pain in her midsection. She fell to her knees, gasping, and held her stomach. She looked around, and her faithful Mizar lay dead upon the muddy ground.

"Mizar!"

A hairy, drunken Northerner stood gloating with his swords coated in the steaming blood of the fire mephit. He said, "Read the laws dear, no demons allowed in town".

Demons? The pain and sorrow were making her thoughts confused. "What in the hells did you just do?", she asked the drunkard.

A Northern woman, her face and arms shamefully exposed to all eyes, spoke up. "Yes, read the laws, dear".

Who were these people, to slay her boon companion, then call her "dear"?

Serena stumbled over to the message board that they indicated, squinting against the pain and read the laws of Dasaria. Indeed, the laws did state that diabolical and undead minions were not allowed in town. "But Mizar is an elemental. Can these people truly not tell the difference between diabolical evil and elementals? This is truly a cursed land!", she thought.

She spun back to the drunkard and his whore, who were sitting idly near the shop. "The laws do say that demons and undead are not allowed. Mizar is from the elemental plane of fire and is neutral. Unlike yourselves, obviously." She knew she shouldn't taunt the Northerners. They were more powerful than herself, and she was seeking their aid. But her father's fire filled her veins and she couldn't help herself.

The drunkard scoffed at her, "Yeah, yeah, I'm so evil".

Serena was taken aback. The stories of the priests were true. The North truly *is* a place of evil! How could she have been so foolish! It was just desperation and the idle tales of bards that lead her to believe that anyone here could help her or her people.

"Let us leave here", she turned to her companions, "The air is foul".

"Only because you're still here, dearie", screeched the drunkard's whore.

Her veins on fire, Serena turned and walked out of the gates. Her companions spoke of their upcoming adventures, but Serena was deaf to it all.

"I will return to my people", she said to herself. "I will make them strong, if it kills me. I will call to my brother, who will aid me. The towns of the North are corrupt, and infested with evil. I will draw righteous fire down upon them!" She surreptitiously cut her hand with her dagger, and let a few drops fall toward the earth. Softly, so her companions wouldn't hear she said, "I call upon my blood to cleanse this land."

The drops of blood never made it to the ground, but burst into flame and started a fire in the grasses......

-- Serena Rashesef, Wizard of the Flame

[Tslisher]

Ahman looks up from his desk as a servant approaches with a light step and a quiet demeanor. Taking the message from her hand, he breaks the seal and looks first at the signature. His eyes light up when he recognizes his twin sisters fine characters on the parchment, she always did have a flare to her writing. Reading deeper into the message, his face takes on a darker and darker tone.

“Dearest Brother,

Although my journey to the northern lands was safe but long, it seems I have made my new home among a group of barbarians. Although most of the people that I met were cautiously friendly at first, its seems these people are most untrustworthy. Shortly after arriving by ship in this small port called Daris, I was set upon by a most rude man who was obviously a drunkard. He killed my familiar, Mizar, without even a word, grievously wounding me in the process. He called Mizar a demon, obviously having no knowledge of the intricacies of the plane of fire from which we both partially spring. I had thought that perhaps he would apologize, but instead he and his whore mocked my words and protests that Mizar was no demon. They insulted me and our entire way of life! He gloated in his own words, admitting his evil nature. He is a most corrupt villain and deserves the righteous torment of our gods.

I call on you, to uphold the honor of our family and our father from whom your blood springs. Aid me in avenging this insult, and journey to the northern lands immediately, I plead with you. I have declared a blood feud with these people. Please let your journey be swift, and your actions merciless. I know you to be one of great cunning, so use your skills wisely. Ours is the path of fire and our righteous anger will carry to victory over these evil villains.

I await your coming with eagerness. Let us rain fire on these heathens so they will not live to insult our family again!

Signed,

Serena Rashesef”


Ahman slowly crumples the letter, leaving it smoldering on the floor. Calling for his servants to pack his bags, he quickly readies himself for a long journey. These infidels would not go unpunished.

[Cerberus]

((hmmm... interesting... *thinks*))

[Oye99]

//Hehehe, the drunkard and his whore.. Ivy and I weren't -that- bad .

[Redder]

(( Sorry, just my 2 cents, shouldn't stories of this nature be in the Tales and Stories section of the forums?? - great read though ))

[Vahene]

///Gotta agree with Oye here.. Hak and Ivy weren't that bad.. and some of the text is mixed up a bit.. and stretched, but.. overall, interesting read..

[Cerberus]

//heh, I think that was the point... to see it from their point of view, how they heard it... its all in the emotion.

*grins* Definitely gonna have Lone keep an eye on this story

[Earavien Erinen]

((Yes, Lone has it right, it is all from the character's point of view. Probably suspect, but there are few individuals who can be entirely objective about their place in the world.

At first, I was extremely upset about the incident. I didn't think Dasaria was the kind of world where high level characters picked on low levels for no reason. I absolutely intended to never play this character again (which was more of a test case for some back story ideas I had), since I didn't want to have to go through grief about my familiar everytime I came to town. If I had been a new player on Dasaria, this incident would have convinced me to "take my ball and go home", as it were, being a rather retiring individual in real life (don't laugh, those who know my "Delia" character).

Luckily my husband, the saner half of the pair, convinced me to turn this into a role-playing opportunity. And he reminded me that from our months here in Dasaria, we know that this type of thing is not the norm. I'm very much enjoying myself with this character concept so far, and hope that others do as well. And if there are any other Rashesefs out there listening, PM me and we will begin our reign of fire.....

BTW, I wasn't sure in which forum I should put this post, since it really isn't a "story" per se, but is more an introduction and explanation of certain events that took place in town yesterday. If it offends, I'm sure the moderator will move it to the appropriate venue.

[Earavien Erinen]

That night she dreamed of fire.

It took her in an exhalation of flame, sank to the marrow of her bones, and transported her high above the earth. She saw the cold Northern lands, then she saw farther, to the south, where her homeland lay drowsing in the heat, a slumbering beast.

She saw the Djinn, making war upon her people, she saw the futility of their resistance. The priests, impotent, ruling by fear. The people suffering in drought and terror.

She knew what she had to do.

When she awoke in the inn, her bed sheets were scorched.


Serena nervously lingered near the western gates of Daris. She fingered her tattered veil, and tried not to see eyes following her everywhere. Thank the gods this village had enough trade, and saw many strangers come through every day. She would not be noted, if she kept busy and didn’t allow Mizar within the gates.

She spent a part of every day waiting by each of Daris’ gates, waiting for news of her brother. While it was true he was traveling by water, her twin was far from predictable. He would, on a whim, find himself distracted by something he found interesting and spend several days in pursuit. Who knew how long his journey would be, and from what direction he would arrive?

She turned, thinking of how much she missed him. Though he was known to have a fierce temper, he had always been gentle with her. Though others called him unstable, he was her rock amidst shifting sands.

Staring back out of the gates, she was startled by a soft touch upon her shoulder. She whirled, inadvertently bringing flames to her fingertips.

A low, amused voice said, “Your powers have indeed grown since you left us, sister.”

“Ahman!”, she cried, dousing the flames in an instant. She clutched at his arms fiercely. “You have come!”

“Yes”, he said with laughter in his eyes, “You knew I was traveling by ship, yet you wait near the western gates? I have been searching for you throughout the town. Don’t tell me my predilections are so well known to you….”

“Oh, er, Ahman, I wasn’t certain by which route you would travel…”, she began lamely, but he cut her off, chuckling.

“You know me too well. I came directly here, based on the gravity of your missive”. His face turned uncharacteristically cold. He grasped Serena by the back of the neck and brought her forehead to his lips before embracing her.

He murmured in her ear, “All that you ordained has come to pass. The people of the flame are making ready.”

At those words, the fire in her heart, banked down by anxiety, came fiercely to life.



She dreamed of fire once more.

The flames took her high above the earth to witness the change upon her lands. The war with the Djinn was no more. The sacrifices and slaves had appeased them, and the promise of dominion over lands in the North had turned the enemies into allies. The priests had protested, but now their cured skins adorned the rocks of the Djinn mountain fortresses, the ashes from their charred bodies scattered to the desert winds. She had seen the face of true evil here in the North and all else could be forgiven……

[Tslisher]

The farmer's corpse lies steaming from the impact of several bolts of magic. Ahman helps his sister up, pretending to not notice the results of her weakness as she became ill upon causing the farmer's death.

"Fear not Sister, these people are weak and they deserve the cleansing hand of flame. They must pay for the disrespect they show our family, this is but a beginning!"

His eyes take on a wild pitch as he works further into his diatribe about the heathen infidels. He realizes that this is the fire that burns in his veins speaking, but is too far gone to care. Turning his back on the charred corpse, he stalks off, motioning for the brute of a northern barbarian that accompanied them to join them in their travels.

Softly playing with a summoned flame dancing on his fingertips he contemplates the coming days. A twisted grin crosses his lips as he glances back at his sister. Ah, these heathens would know the true wrath of the Rashesefs soon enough.

[Tslisher]

It was done.

The northerner's corpse lay steaming on the ground, magic having pierced it to the core. Ahman strode up ignoring the dead and gravely wounded guards. The villagers too, beyond the wall of deadly blades, posed no urgent threat. He glanced over at his sister with an evil grin tugging at his mouth. Oddly, she was frowning. Was she not pleased the northerner was dead? After all, it was he who had dealt the blow to their honor that started this quest.

Granting a nod to the heathen, although useful priest, Nicolai, that had aided them with their revenge, Ahman thought back to the insult that had started them down this path. These northerners had no honor. Although their own laws forbade the killing of familiars, the red coated rogue had killed poor Mizar, claiming that he was a demon. Evidently both without honor or knowledge since Mizar was a elemental, and had no connection with the demonic planes. And his whore, that Ivy woman, had defended the act. Ahman's blood burned in his veins as he recalled the insult to his sister's honor.

His barbarian friend, Saevus started forward yelling, "I'll take his head!" Ahman waved him back. "No my friend, no heads, no doubt some fool priest will raise him. I want the sting of his defeat and the terror of this pitiful village to spread far and wide."

Looking up he noticed that more villagers had gathered, including some of their so called... heroes. Several were brandishing weapons beyond the still shimmering wall of blades. They yelled impotently, afraid to cross the barrier.

Turning his back and motioning for Saevus to follow, Ahman joined his sister and Nicolai in heading to the gate. One of the villagers made some cry of defiance. Looking back, Ahman was surprised to see Stella, their hired assassin, making her way among the villagers and coming to join them. "Bah, too late" he thought, "ah well, no gold owed to this one then."

Turning around again, Ahman shouted back "You have not heard the last of us, we will burn your pitiful village to the ground!" Content that he had quelled the rabble, he strode through the gate following his Sister. Their honor was avenged, although there was the one other......

[Tslisher]

Later in the northern forest...

"You what!" Ahman exclaimed, confronting the paid assasin Stella.

"I want my money, he's dead now, right?" Stella said again.

"But you didn't kill him, we did!" Ahman's blood started to boil. He silently prepared several deadly spells, just in case.

"Doesn't matter, 20,000 gold was the deal, and now he's dead," Stella raised her scythe, looking ominous.

"I'll give you 5,000 for your trouble, no more, we killed him, you weren't even there," Ahman was livid at this northern barbarian's lie, but willing just to settle the matter. He had seen the incredible damage that that magical sythe could do, that's why he had hired her.

"I'll collect over your dead corpse!" Stella yelled, starting forward raising the deadly scythe as she approached.

Ahman started casting, worried that he would be too late. A haste spell should take him far from the warrior, and give him time to strike.

Suddenly a low voice intoned a rasping word. Although it was not directed at him, Ahman winced in pain. But the target, the warrior Stella, had a more violent reaction. Gasping, she died, her soul removed by the priest's magic. Her shredded corpse cooled in the moist air of the forest.

"Ah, I thank you priest," Ahman looked to Nicolai with renewed respect. "Your magic is quite..... effective."

Leaving the corpse of the assassin behind him to slowly be buried by leaves in the forest, Ahman departed, plotting in his mind the downfall of the small Dasarian village named Daris.

[Stormknife]

The Varanites yelled in fear as the red dragon swooped low over his boat. They all expected it to light them on fire as was so often the case with Varanite supplies that tried to make it across that lake. So when the dragon was replaced with a glint of metal, they all stared dumbfounded as it grew closer, with an accompanying yell.

"...yyyeeeEEEEHAH!!"

The fully armed and armored troops realized almost too late that, somehow, an iron golem was plummeting towards their wooden craft. The few wizards among them began gesturing frantically in an attempt to destroy the construct before gravity carried through on its promise to sink them all. Some of them were shocked to find that their spells were countered outright. Others watched in horror as their spells were either absorbed or simply didn't phase the iron behemoth. Then it was through the planks, and what had been a resupply mission only moments before had turned into body recovery.

A few minutes later, the golem pulled itself up onto the shore and stretched, shifting back to a human form in the process. A pseudodragon perched on his shoulder.

~So boss...guess what I heard?~

~What?~

~There's mages pickin' on Daris, boss. New ones that we haven't fought yet.~

The human rubbed his chin in thought. ~It has been a long time since we've seen some decent bullseyes, hasn't it?~

After some thought, Trace transformed into a dragon again to begin the trip back to Daris. It'd be faster than walking and, besides...it was fun to watch the Varanites scatter like ants as he flew overhead.

[Tslisher]

//OOC

Excellent.. exactly the type of reaction that I was trying to provoke. Ahman's victories have come just a bit too easily, and he's growing more arrogant all the time. He really needs a come-uppance to humble him a bit *grin*

Heck, even when I'm playing him sometimes I just want to wipe that evil grin off his face

Tslisher... aka

[Peregrinus]

((He also hasn't met Falson yet... hmm... *plots Trace/Falson tag team...*