CopperElfCleric
2018-02-04, 12:58 PM
The early Adventures and Misadventures of Curudin Ahmaquissar.
Evermeet, 1274 DR
The alluring female moon elf looked down at her newborn child. The two midwives exchanged concerned glances at one another as she unwrapped her child with a quick gasp. For a short second or two she could of sworn the bright blue eyes of her beautiful elven son were swirling and dancing with tiny asymmetrical star-bursts, but once she blinked her own eyes they were gone. She gave a soft laugh and looked at the midwives, who stood silent wearing worried expressions of joy on their tired faces. It was a long and complicated birth for Evelyndis Ahmaquissar.
She had thought that her troublesome labor and difficult childbirth had somehow caused her vision and senses to play tricks on her when she looked her son in the eyes, but as she continued to unwrap her child she noticed two unmistakable tattoos on either side of her sons chest. Two asymmetrical star-bursts were tattooed on his skin and glowed a faint multi-colored hue in a chaotic, ever changing pattern. She gasped aloud this time and whispered a prayer to her deity that what she was seeing now was not just a trick of the mind or the result of an extended, painful birthing. As she held her son up before her fully naked, she giggled and began to chant a simple spell. After a few moments she cradled her child again and smiled with mischief on her lips. "my precious little Mischiefmaker, you have your fathers eyes."
Evermeet, 1294 DR
In the aftermath of her spell, Queen Amlaruil looked down at the six elven youths sprawled on the floor before her. As they lay immobilized on the steps below the ancient dais located within the Royal Garden her powerful gaze fell on the one elf that now stood up tall and without fear, unlike his companions which her simple spell had captured.
“He is very young and these six elves have seen no more than 20 winters,” she thought as she looked upon the standing elf.
He confronted her gaze smiling and stood in such a comfortable manner that Amlaruil instantly questioned her decision to summon her late husband’s Moonblade, as it flashed into existence in her hand.
The moon elf felt a palpable wave of fear and adoration wash over him, but he knew that the feeling was not because of the King Sword. As Amlaruil approached him, her power and aura caused an unbearable, all-engulfing sensation of sheer ancient power that his relaxed and confident mien collapsed into turmoil. He felt an odd sensation of terrible fear coupled with unbridled love as Amlaruil came close enough to touch him with the Moonblade. Mustering all of his willpower the moon elf shook off the effects of the Queen’s innate, ancient power. Raising an index finger the young elf half-bowed and said lightly, "I am Curudin Ahmaquissar of House Ahmaquissar of Evermeet, formerly of Keltormiir and allied by blood. I present myself to you as a rogue-in-training, thief extraordinaire and follower of Erevan Ilesere."
The Queen cast a swift, powerful spell around them both with a deft motion of her wrist. "So thief," the Queen said, "have you come to steal my husbands Moonblade?"
When an instant response was not forthcoming, the look on Amlaruil’s angelic face turned to a mixture of surprise, confusion and realization, all within the blink of an eye. She raised her hand to her brow and with a swift movement reached out to touch Curudin and then fixed him with her unnerving, ancient gaze.
As Queen Amlaruil looked upon him, Curudin Ahmaquissar experienced power he had never experienced before. The Queen looked into his deep, blue eyes flecked with forest green and seemed to drink in his very soul. While taller in stature than an average elf child, he was seemingly unaffected by her powerful aura; an aura which had compelled lords, kings and generals alike to bow before her in an instant. Amlaruil looked deeper into the soul of this dauntless elf child and found nothing but laughter and trickery and his wry smile deepened, the more she pressed her spell. The Moonblade of Zaor remained quiescent in her grasp and as her spell delved deeper, she understood that this Curudin Ahmaquissar allowed her to spell-probe him without resistance or complaint.
Her puzzlement showing, Amlaruil repeated her question. "Did you come for my husband’s Moonblade?”
The response was as swift as it was unexpected. "No my lady ... my Queen. I have actually come for you."
With a mere thought, Queen Amlaruil cast a Time Stop Spell and raised her eyebrow in anticipation. The world seemed to stop all around her, but she moved with the grace and speed of a demi-god. Curudin appeared transfixed in time before her, but with clever eyes, followed her every movement. For a moment or two, the Queen was aware of this and was taken aback. For the next 4 rounds, Amlaruil cast several augury spells asking the Selderine for advice and wisdom. Not a single deity seemed to answer her multiple prayers. However, right as the Time Stop Spell was about to end, she received an unexpected response to her augury. It was but a faint laugh at first. Subtle, unthreatening, yet commanding. Before the spell ended, the Queen, who both wise and old enough, knew she had heard that enchanting revelry in her youth. It was the laughter of Ereven Ilesere and she now understood that Curudin of House Ahmaquissar was Trickster Touched.
Faerun, In the Ruins beneath Elvenport, 1374 DR.
Curudin stepped aside with preternatural grace and agility beyond that of an elf his age. The clawed hand of the Glabrezu smashed into the solid wall which was just above Curudin’s head. As he rolled off to his right, he came up to his feet with a sword in either hand. Quickly mouthing the words to a powerful spell in his mind, he stabbed the Giant beast in the ribs with his Shortsword, as he skewered the massive chest of the Hulking terror with his powerful Longsword. Both left hand and right hand working in unison to destroy the Horror in front of him and his companions. The Glabrezu, a four-armed demon with pinchers that crush stone and magic that destroys the soul and spirit of all mortals, lashed out one final time at the Divine thief. With sheer laughter in his voice, Curudin Ahmaquissar released his powerful spell of Banishment as his blades tore into either side of the demon. With infernal curses and promise of torment, the Glabrezu was sent back to the Abyss for a century.
Terrindill Shaelarrah winked at Curudin for his stunning win against the Glabrezu and then went back to work on the magical trap before him. If not for the demon’s defeat, they would all be dead. Terrindill, a Gold Elf of superb skill and innate gifts in the art of Shadows, smiled yet again when the other three companions came along after true battle it seemed. They were all battered and beaten as Terrindill clicked his last lock-Pick on the Magick door and it popped open with a silent swish. With grins and laughs, the ‘Rogues of The Laughing Twilight’ left the extradimensional space to touch foot back in Faerun once again. Night was fast upon them in Elvenport when they heard movement up ahead, soon followed by screams of terror and the otherworldly roars of some abyssal beast.
Curudin signaled his five companions in thieves cant and told them to approach the clearing in silence. As they all came closer to the forest glade, the sounds of battle broke out with fair voices shouting and bestial snarls and roars filling the night air.
Curudin and his companions took a moment to cast a few spells on themselves and prepare for whatever battle lies ahead. After a few short moments they heard a piercing screech that reverberated throughout the entire ruins of Elvenport. Curudin and his elven rogues had heard that screech many times in the past few days exploring the long abandoned elven city, so they ran as fast and silent as hunting cats through the ancient woods. As they approached the clearing Curudin cast a spell on himself to increase his strength and another to increase his already inherent preternatural speed and agility, and a third spell to ward off evil in a large radius centered on himself. Several feet to his right he heard the soft chanting of Nym Nightsong, a Star elf Shadow Mage of considerable power that has been a member of Curudin's Thieves guild, known as The Rogues of Laughing Twilight for two decades now, and a trusted lieutenant and friend. As Nym was casting his Shadow Shield on himself, Curudin looked to his left to see Laeirlefain Starleaf, a Copper elf Swashbuckler of great renown in The Silver Marches, and another lieutenant of his guild, preparing himself with several magic items. Up ahead and to either side of the clearing, out of his sight, Curudin could imagine his other three companions flanking the small forest glen that the battle was taking place in. Far ahead stalked Pheyloo Audark, a Copper elf assassin that carries enough magical daggers to take down a Storm Giant. Right behind him to either side are the Wild elf siblings Saffrathila and Sathalindle Selorn, whom are both Rogue-Rangers of impeccable talent and skill. Saffrathila, the sister, being a Justice of Weald and Woe is a spell archer, and her twin brother Sathalindle is a Dervish without equal. With a count of ten to let his companions get into flanking position, Curudin sprang into the clearing alone and was sickened by the terrible sight before him.
Nine elves lay dead around the clearing. One elf was on his knees surrounded by three Fey'ri and two towering Vrocks to either side. "Never shall you retrieve the Shattering Swords of Coronal Ynloeth." the dying elf said with defiance. The Fey'ri leader stabbed the elf patrol commander through his neck with ease, as the magical blade drank his blood and life force. Before another move was made Curudin lashed out with a powerful divine spell that created a large multi-colored hammer, which flashed and flew across the forest glen smashing the Fey'ri leader to the ground with an audible crack before it instantly flew towards the Vrock demon to it's right, and smashed the beast in it's horrid beak, sending it spinning and staggering. The Fey'ri sorcerer to the leaders right, turned around and started casting a spell, only to end in a gurgling spurt of flowing blood as Terrindill Shaelarra Shadow Pounced from the darkness of the forest right behind the spell-caster and skewered the demonic elf with his fine, magical elven thin blade, right through his neck. Curudin couldn't help but laugh out loud at the sight, as Terrindill Shaelarra; a Gold elf Shadowdancer, tipped his sword towards Curudin and chuckled at his brilliant handiwork. Terrindill then told his Shadow Companion, whom he named Vrax to attack the Vrock that Curudin's Chaos Hammer just smashed in the face and sent staggering.
The third and last Fey'ri drew it's twin blades and rushed at Curudin who stood alone in the clearing seeming comfortable and unconcerned about the two giant Vrocks before him. Before the demonic elf even went five steps towards Curudin, he was stopped dead in his tracks by a rapid flurry of magical daggers that seemed to come out of the black darkness of the woods itself. The Fey'ri turned around just in time to see the Assassin Pheyloo walk into the glade and toss one last dagger into its heart with a simple flick of his wrist that astounded the demon-elf before he died and fell face first into the soft pine needles of the forest floor.
At this moment, six spell-laced arrows shot out from high in the surrounding tree line and slammed into the Vrock closest to the edge of the forest. Each arrow carrying a different potent spell meant to hamper, cripple and kill its opponent. As the second Vrock recovered from Curudin's Chaos Hammer, it was met by a Wild elf who burst out from the shadows of the woods and threw himself at the large demon with abandon. Twin swords spinning and lashing and cutting deep into it's flesh before the beast even knew it was assaulted in melee combat. Just at that moment a powerful black lightning bolt ripped the night air and tore into the demon from behind and lifted it up into the trees with a deafening crack. By the time it landed it was charred and smoking as Curudin sped towards the monster and stabbed it through its skull with his powerful longsword. He chuckled as the beast lay dead. The second Vrock was enmeshed with a plethora of killing arrows as Laeirlefain quick stepped beside the Vrock and plunged both his rapiers into the demons face as it shrieked out a terrible scream that blasted all six rogues off their feet and shook the trees all around the glade. Curudin quickly composed himself and shook off the effects of the Vrocks death screech, while his companions took a bit longer to get to their feet. With a wry smile and a lasting grin he saluted his friends and cast a spell of Augury. After several minutes of casting the spell he came to and spoke quietly to his companions. "I see now that our next misadventure involves obtaining the Shattering Swords of Coronal Ynloeth from the depths of Hellgate Keep", he said with an impish smirk on his handsome face.
*Faerun, Deep in the Caverns of Taerymdoom. 1375 DR.
Curudin knelt before the pile of bones before him, convinced that this is the remains of the famed elven adventurer Taerym. His six companions spread out among the large cavern they now stood in, flanking all positions and keeping watch. He was further convinced of his realization by the love letter he found in a hidden pocket of the magic cloak laying under the remains of this well known elf. A love letter addressing him personally. Beside the love letter was a Wand made of Shadowtop bark and carved by skilled and ancient hands. Yes, this was certainly Taerym, the fabled elf adventurer of whom these caverns are named.
Curudin studied the wand for many moments, using all of his gained lore of ancient artifacts before his eyes lit up and flickered with inner light as he understood finally what this wand was, and how the trigger word was so subtly crafted onto the side of this curious item. He smiled and tucked the wand into the side of his belt as he stood up. Curudin then produced a medium sized flask from his pouch of holding and began a chant to Erevan Ilesere as he doused the remains and equipment of Taerym with Feywine to consecrate the bones of the legendary hero. AS Curudin held up the enchanted flask before himself, it refilled, and he poured it on the remains once more with a final blessing of his elven god. Finally, when it was empty again, he held it up to his face as it magically filled itself, and drained the entire flask in one fell swig as he looked upon the fallen legend with mischief in his eyes.
Once the enchanted flask refilled with the potent Feywine, he called over his six friends. The lieutenants of his strictly elven rogues guild, known as 'The Rogues of The Laughing Twilight'. When his companions gathered around him, he looked to his left and offered his flask of Feywine to them all.
First to drink was Pheyloo Audark, a Copper elf Rogue/Assassin/Whisperknife who drank the entire flask in one gulp while praying to Erevan Ilerese to reveal the names of the Durugar and Illithids who enslaved him and murdered his family. Once the flask magically refilled, he passed it on to his left.
Second to drink was Laeirlefain Starleaf, a Copper elf Rogue/Swashbuckler/Shadowblade who chugged the flask in two swift pulls, while giving a prayer to Erevan for a mighty duel once they return to Silverymoon or Everlund.
Third to drink the Feywine was Saffrathindle Selorn, a female Wild elf Rogue/Ranger/Justice of Weald and Woe, that sipped several times until the flask was empty again, and prayed to Erevan for more divine spells to eliminate her enemies. Once the enchanted flask filled itself she passed it on to her left, where stood her one and only true love.
Fourth to drink the magical Feywine was Nym Nightsong, a Star elf Rogue/Wizard/Shadow Adept who prayed to Erevan that he may find an ancient spell-tome to study and use in his further adventures with his current friends and lover.
Fifth to drink was Terrindill Shaelarrah, a Sun elf Rogue/Shadowdancer/Shadowlord who prayed to Erevan for a more challenging trap to disable and bypass during this current adventure. He didn't think he was asking for much.
The sixth and last to drink from the sacred flask was Sathalindle Selorn, brother to Saffrathindle, a Wild elf Rogue/Ranger/Dervish who drained the contents in three great gulps and prayed to Erevan for a Cooshie companion since his Weasel companion died during combat against Countess Sarya of the Fey'ri over a year ago in the ruins of Hellgate Keep. As he passed the refilling flask over to Curudin, he vowed to repay the witch with the keen edges of his twin longswords.
As the enchanted flask was passed back to Curudin, he took a final swig of the Feywine and put it back into his pouch of holding at the back of his belt and said a final prayer to Erevan for the fallen elf adventurer Taerym, of whom these caverns were named.
It was at this very moment that a plethora of unearthly screams resounded from the tunnels to their right. An enemy approached indeed. The quick minded companions darted out towards the cavern walls on either side to ambush and flank the approaching danger. Pheyloo cast an invisibility spell on himself and flanked towards the right, while Nym began to cast a killing spell as he slowly walked towards the left of the chamber they stood in. Terrindill blended in with the shadows of the lightless cave and called upon his Shadow companion Vrax to aid him if needed. Saffrathindle called a spell to her lips as she pulled her mighty bow from her shoulder and followed the direction of Pheyloo as he turned invisible. Her brother Sathalindle had no such compulsions as he drew his twin longswords and rushed straight towards the tunnel the otherworldly screams came from and wore a sardonic grin on his beautiful brown face while throwing a wink at his deadly sister.
Laeirlefain stood ten paces in front of Curudin with both of his elven thin blades drawn and ready to kill. Each blade a powerful Rapier unto itself, but then he enacted a single ancient elven, innate word of mystery and his twin thin blades erupted into pulsing shadows. He turned his head back to Curudin who stood at ease and relaxed, and cast a knowing sly smirk to his long time friend before he jutted forward with trails of shadow following his blades. Curudin just stood there and quietly laughed at all his companions for their efficiency and skill at ambush and direct combat.
Followed by their horrific screams, a pack of 20 Vargouilles burst into the dark cavern. Disfigured human heads, with mouths full of long fangs and wriggling tentacles and long bat wings on either side of their heads, these monsters were from the lower planes, summoned by a greater enemy to devour and destroy any invader to the cavern complex.
Saffrathindle stood her ground 20 paces to the right of Curudin and let loose a full attack of spell-arrows at the front of the approaching creatures, unleashing a plethora of hindering and immobilizing spell effects that had the monsters behind crashing and diverting to fly freely around the enabled Vargouilles in the way.
Nym Nightsong unleashed a powerful stroke of pitch black chain lightning at that same moment, instantly dropping five of the creatures dead behind Saffrathindle's spell-arrows. Sathalindle met the first three Vargouilles head on with twin blades spinning and whirling and cutting and stabbing. His onslaught of melee mastery was too much for the monsters and they all three fell dead at his feet.
Not to be undone, Terrindill shadow-stepped beside four of the abominations and skewered two of them with his fine elven thin blade and light blade, while his shadow companion Vrax began to drain the lifeforce of the remaining two with claws and teeth. It truly still amazed Terrindill that Vrax looked exactly like him, but made purely of shadows. He laughed aloud and rejoiced in the irony as Vrax sprouted identical swords from his shadowy hands to continue killing the two Vargouilles he was battling. Terrindill riposted, feigned and delivered a double thrust that slayed both monsters he faced. Vrax was simply draining their life force with every shadowy hit of his shadowy blades.
Laeirlefain stood his ground also, with twin blades at his ready, enmeshed in thick, powerful, innate shadow. Three of the monsters flew at him with jaws agape, and he ducked, spun and somersaulted in one swift maneuver while slashing and stabbing his twin Rapiers and calling out to his innate shadow abilities to deliver death blows to the three Vargouilles his two blades connected with. As Laeirlefain lightly touched back down onto the cavern floor, he was greeted by the severed remains of the foul abominations falling about him.
The last five Vargouilles sped towards Curudin and he put his hands on the hilts of his twin swords, but never even had the chance to draw the blades, as all five fell dead ten feet in front of him pierced by daggers he knew so well. Casually walking towards him was Pheyloo, who breaking his invisibility spell with the attack asked a simple question... "Do we slay rodents of the lower planes all night, or do we get something out of this at all?" Curudin just laughed!!
Two days later the rogues came upon a underground castle. A temple perhaps. No guards, no security, no visible wards that a spell could discern. Built by hands, and no magic, It was a fortress glowing green with power. Curudin could feel the warmth sucked from his very breath. AS the companions took a moment to decide what the next plan would be, the massive gate to the fortress lowered and smashed into the cavern floor with a resounding clang.
Slowly and confidently walked two powerfully evil individuals from the depths of the fortress. The sheer power and presence of these two had all seven rogues rocking back on their heels. Curudin himself had never felt such unholy power before, not even from Bateezu or Tann'ari, devils or demons. Curudin gave a sharp whistle and his lieutenants acted accordingly, preparing themselves with spells and scrolls and innate powers. Curudin himself did no such thing.
Curudin Ahmaquissar, the Moon elf, Trickster-Touched Cleric/Rogue/Mischiefmaker of Erevan Ilesere would have no such preparations. He looked to his twin blades. His longsword was a Holy symbol unto itself, regardless of whatever trinket his deity demanded he steal for a symbol of divine spells. It was a Holy Longsword called "Hidden Smile", with its sister Shortsword called "Little Sneak". He looked back up into the gaze of the two powerful creatures before him. He yelled back immediately for his friends to not look upon them and to avert their gaze.
Before Curudin stood a Vampire Lord and a Werewolf Lord!
Out flashed Curudin's twin blades, and he immediately began to channel Erevan's divine energy to destroy this powerful undead lord, and his Lordly Werewolf companion. The Trickster-Touched Moon elf exploded in rapid movement, casting two spells simultaneously, while attacking the Werewolf Lord in melee combat. The first spell was one to protect him from evil in a large radius around him, and the second spell was to increase his size and strength. Laeirlefain and Sathalindle rushed forward ten feet, only to be smitten back by a sheer force of evil power. Saffrathindle fired off five spell-arrows meant to kill and they all fell short of their mark, disrupted by some powerful shield spell. She knew then that the Vampire Lord was a wizard, and the Werewolf Lord was likely a great warrior. She feared that Curudin was going to die quickly in this battle. All the companions looked on with such dread and dismay as they all ran forward to flank the two Lords before them.
The Werewolf Lord, a large bestial terror of immense horror and power, swung his greatsword with preternatural speed as Curudin ducked and then dived over the blade with a grace and agility that gave the Werewolf Lord pause. "You will never defeat me, the great lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw." The lycanthrope said with conviction. Curudin decided to maneuver the werewolf lord to his left to avoid the Vampire lord whom was casting a spell aimed solely at him. He met the Werewolf's greatsword with both his Longsword and Shortsword and aimed the block downward as to lessen the blow which meant to cleave him in half. Curudin was positive that Lord Nixelshevin wanted to eat his still beating heart. At the same time that Curudin was having these thoughts fighting the Werewolf Lord, a familiar spell washed over him. A powerful spell cast by the Vampire Lord to hold him fast and debilitate his every attribute. He actually let the spell take effect as he looked past the Vampire lord to see his Lieutenants screaming in helpless rage, unable to get past the powerful spell of evil the Undead Lord cast on the area around the battle. Curudin was helpless it seemed. To all appearances he was unable to break the bonds of the spell the Undead lord had cast upon him, while the Werewolf lord walked up to him in bestial manner, slathering and drooling over a slow kill.
"I am lord Harrowmont Velshadoom. Meet your grisly death wretched elf." spoke the Vampire Lord in a hissing voice. "May Lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw feast on your remains!!" He raised his hand back to cast a killing touch spell, and Curudin spoke a single elven word of power! Still clutching his Holy Longsword of Erevan Ilesere, Curudin simply spoke the word "DIE", and it was a greater destroying spell, full of channeled divine might and coupled with a compulsion effect. Curudin laughed aloud when the Vampire Lord, Harrowmont Velshadoom burst into a plethora of spraying blood and Ichor and bones.
Once seemingly released from the debilitating spell of the powerful Vampire lord, curudin quickly snatched the wand from his belt that he had acquired from the bones of the dead adventurer, Taerym and pointed it at the large fell beast and spoke its trigger word. The hulking terror before him paused his advance and began to twitch and contort, but the powerful beast shrugged off the effects of the wand and lunged at the Mischiefmaker, aiming to sever his head. With the circle of unholy blight dismissed with the Vampire Lords death, the six other companions ran to the pile of blasted gore that was the slain unholy Lord and began to cut off it's head from its destroyed body and burn the remains before it could regenerate back to life. Thirty feet away the melee fight continued between the Werewolf Lord and the Mischiefmaker, with Curudin displaying a flourish of cuts and stabs and ripostes that kept the massive lycanthrope at bay. With sheer brute strength the Werewolf Lord managed to wound Curudin several times on his arms and torso, but the speed and agility of the Trickster-Touched moon elf was far too great for the beast to land a killing blow against him.
Pheyloo, Sathalindle and Saffrathilia broke away from their other three companions who continued to finalize the destruction of Lord Harrowmont, and rushed to help their leader who was engaged in melee combat with the large terrifying lycanthrope. Saffrathilia fired off three arrows at the monstrous werewolf that found their mark in its back, but if the arrows had any effect at all, it didn't show. Pheyloo began throwing dagger after dagger, including several enchanted daggers and knives at Lord Blackmaw, but again, if they had any effect the beast just shrugged them off. Sathalindle raced forward to join the melee, but Curudin shouted to them all to stand back.
"You will die at my feet elf, and I will suck the marrow from your bones.", snarled Lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw as he disengaged his glowing greatsword long enough to swing it down by his feet, behind his back and up over his head with a blow that was meant to cut the moon elf in half down the middle. Curudin dived to his left and rolled ten feet away, coming up to his feet and turning around with his Holy sword raised high into the air as he called forth a spell that brought a column of divine fire down upon the lupine terror. The werewolf lord howled in agonizing pain as the power of the spell burned its fur and melted its skin in places to slide off his bones and fall to the floor.
When the spell was over, Lord Blackmaw stood there with smoldering fur and melted flesh, with a look of pure hate on his horrible canine face. Falling into a berserkers rage, the werewolf lord threw his mighty greatsword at the moon elf and pounced, screaming "I shall rend the flash from your body and feast on your heart." Curudin's companions watched in dismay as the fell beast flew towards the Mischiefmaker with dagger-long claws extended and canine jaws wide open for an overwhelming, bestial attack that would surely overpower and kill their long time friend. Curudin Ahmahquissar sheathed both his weapons lightning fast and just stood there relaxed and confident. All six of his lieutenants cried out helplessly as the large monster was almost upon him.
At the very last second, the Trickster-Touched Mischiefmaker just simply disappeared right before Lord Blackmaws eyes as he enacted his divine ability to Side-Slip. Within the span of a single heartbeat, he reappeared behind the monstrous creature and performed a sneak attack with his short sword "Little Sneak", that critically wounded the lycanthrope, and severed its spine in half.
Lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw collapsed to the cavern floor with a thud and lay there very still. As Curudin stared down at the disabled beast, he could see the look of pure, fell rage in its evil, orange, bloodshot eyes. The moon elf pulled out that curious wand again that he found on the remains of the elf Adventurer Taerym, and with a knowing wry smile he spoke its trigger word as a ray of white energy erupted from its tip and hit the monster in its massive chest. Blackmaw's hybrid body began to contort and snap and pop audibly as the convulsions twisted his limp form. Within moments the enormous werewolf lord was replaced by a tiny orange frog as the wand of Polymorph enacted its spell.
As the Mischiefmakers companions walked up beside him, he tucked the wand back into his belt and could not suppress a heartfelt chuckle as he said "May you continue to burn in the fiery pits of Gehenna, Lord Frog!!." He then stomped the werewolf lord-turned frog with the heel of his leather boot.
Faerun, In the Dwarven ruins of Ascore, 1376 DR.
The Night Hag cackled with delight as her Ghast and Ghoul minions swarmed the six elven rogues, and her Death Knight servant kept their tall elf leader busy in combat. She began to ready a spell of decay when three magic daggers suddenly sprouted from her chest, disrupting her spell and staggering her back a few feet. The Night Hag known as Zarlemina screamed out a curse at the handsome copper elf who stood before her, thirty paces away, smirking despite the forty ghouls and ghasts surrounding him and his companions. He suddenly ducked down to the ground as four black shafted, spell-enchanted arrows flew over his head to slam into Zarlemina in her shoulders and abdomen. Another furious curse came off the Night Hags lips, but this time bringing a baleful spell of withering that washed out from her in a cone, spreading 50 feet from her emaciated form, to encompass the handsome copper elf assassin who drew three more daggers in each of his hands, and past him to Saffrathindle, the wild elf ranger who peppered her with spell-arrows. Pheyloo shrugged off the withering spell as he began to throw his six daggers at the hag, but the female wild elf was not so fortunate as the terrible spell took hold of her and she clawed her own body as she dropped to the ground moaning in pain.
Sathalindle Selorn, the wild elf brother of Saffrathindle, could not hear his sisters screams and moans as he was engrossed in the combat dance of the Dervish, lopping off arms, heads and legs of the undead surrounding him and his fellow companions. To the right of Sathalindle stood the copper elf Laeirlefain Starleaf, who had a completely different fighting style, more piercing and slashing and precise strikes than the whirlwind of attacks that was the Dervish wild elf. Laeirlefain worked his twin elven thin blades with such skill that the undead coming at him couldn't even begin to claw or bite or overwhelm him. To the left of Sathalindle stood Terrindill Shaelarrah, a Sun elf Shadowdancer who was more talented at disarming and bypassing magical traps and wards than fighting hoards of undead with his rapier and elven light blade. All the same, Terrindill held his own against the ghouls and ghasts in melee combat with the help of his Shadow Companion and his innate abilities to warp and control the shadows around him.
Behind his three friends, Nym Nightsong had been silently casting a powerful shadow-spell. The Star elf shadow mage finished his incantations with a flourish and laughed aloud as a pitch black fireball erupted from his left hand to drive into the chest of the nearest ghast and exploded the creature into a thousand pieces as it arced into a chain of dark destruction that felled no less than thirty ghouls and ghasts as it made its way around the hungry packs of undead, burning and melting flesh and bone, and slaying all in it's path. Before the spell even ended, Nym began casting another deadly evocation. Behind him, Saffrathilla continued to writhe in agony as the Night Hags withering spell wracked her body. Before he could react, he saw Pheyloo casting a quick spell of invisibility and abruptly disappear. Knowing his Assassin friend was keeping the hag busy, Nym continued to focus on his spell and the undead monsters pressing in on them all from three sides. Sathalindle, Laeirlefain and Terrindill were fighting furiously to keep the creatures from getting past them and joining the Night Hag and tearing Saffrathindle apart as she lay there helpless in the clutches of the evil spell.
Curudin Ahmaquissar ducked under the broad sword of the Death Knight as the undead warrior slashed at his neck and came forward with a shield bash only to notice the tall moon elf rolling past him while chanting something he couldn't understand. As Curudin's roll came to a stop and he pivoted on his right heel and turned around to face the knight, he held aloft his Holy long sword of Erevan Ilesere and channeled the divine might of his trickster god and smote the death knight in its face with a multi-colored beam of power. The ancient death knight known as Sir Krestov stood there transfixed, with arms open wide, dropping his archaic weapons and bellowing a loud, low moan that sounded like relief as he disintegrated into a pile of ash and armor. The Mischiefmaker immediately turned his attention to his companions and a sour frown crossed over his handsome elven face.
Curudin seen Saffrathindle laying on the ground writhing in the hag's spell, being drained of her life-force, and came to the conclusion that he had two choices. He could dispel the withering curse and ignore this creature from the lower Planes, or kill the hag outright and hopefully end the affliction. Before the Mischiefmaker could decide his course of action, he noticed the assassin Pheyloo Audark appear behind the Night Hag with his two enchanted daggers buried hilt deep in either side of her neck. Her eyes bulged out in disbelief and she opened her fanged mouth to spit out a curse of death around her, but Pheyloo retracted one of his knives to slit her throat from ear to ear while whispering something grim that only she could hear.
Nym Nightsong finished his spell and called forth a dark Ice Storm of devastating destruction that froze entire packs of ghouls and ghasts where they stood, knowing that when the spell ended the undead would be slain by the sheer power of the cold damage he inflicted on them. Nym then drew out his twin short swords and rushed to join his friends who were engaged in melee with the remaining undead, and used every skill and trick he knew as a rogue to backstab and cripple their foes. He was smiling the entire time.
The Trickster-Touched moon elf rushed to Saffrathindle and laid hands on her, placing a hand on her head and on her chest while asking Erevan Ilesere to give him the divine power to remove the curse placed on her by the Night Hag. She lay still for a few moments before she opened her eyes and reached up to kiss the Mischiefmaker on his lips in casual thanks. Her brother Sathalindle and her lover Pheyloo Audark helped her up to her feet as she drank a healing potion for good measure. The companions were discussing their next move when suddenly a cold voice spoke from behind Curudin. "Impressive work Mischiefmaker. Very impressive indeed". All seven companions turned about to see a tall Shadovar wizard, surrounded by ten shadovar warriors. The individual was seemingly important due to his clothing and the green staff held in his hand, that glowed a faint purple hue as he finished his sentence. "I am Lord Darenfell Perithintine of Shade Enclave, Arcane adviser to Prince Yder, Arcane devotee to Lady Shar and emissary of the Netherese." Curudin walked straight up to Lord Darenfell and pushed him back hard with one hand while silently calling a powerful divine spell to his mind. "So, Lord Shade, I assume you watched our plight and did nothing to help us? Or else you and your fellows were so enamored of our prowess that you were entranced with inactivity." said the Mischiefmaker with dripping sarcasm in his tone. The Shade lord stood there measuring the Trickster-Touched moon elf for a few moments before he bowed before Curudin in an archaic sweep of his staff and replied, "Not many adventurers can defeat a Night Hag and a Death Knight servant, let alone a hoard of undead at the same time. I merely waited for the outcome before I revealed our presents." Curudin walked up even closer to lord Darenfell and almost touched noses before he stood his ground and looked into the shadovars eyes.
"Choose your words wisely and speak quickly before I lose my flighty humor on your facade." Curudin calmly placed his hands over the hilts of his twin swords as he finished his statement. The Netherese lord smiled and bowed again, coming back up with a grand smile on his swarthy face. "Prince Lamorak would like his tel'kiira back, in no uncertain terms." The unbridled laughter that came from Curudin Ahmaquissar at that moment was like the angry chimes of a thousand drunk pixies. "Prince Lamorak would like back his elven wrought tel'kiira, crafted in the ancient city of Sharlarion, that Vazzelshevril Ahmaquissar himself made before the Crown Wars?" said Curudin as he shoved lord Darenfell back with an open palm to his stout chest. The shadovar lord rocked back on his heels with the sheer strength of that simple push. "Your precious prince took the Selu'Kiira Rilan'Vae from the ruins of Hellgate Keep and has no claim on the gem. It is a sacred, divine work of art and power that should never have come into his possession. If your master is upset with the fact that I casually stole into the enclave and took back what belongs to the people, then so be it. Maybe your prince Lamorak is a fallible coward who sends little wizards to do his dirty work."
Lord Darenfell visually brimmed with seething rage at those words. The shadovar warriors surrounding him fell into a attack formation guided by their captain and awaited their commands. "I suppose you don't have the tel'kiira on your belongings at this moment you wretched elf, do you?"
"The Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae has a name." said Curudin with a wide, grim smirk on his lips. "Can you speak it's name lord Shade?" "It's the Shadow Gem of Sharlarion, is it not?" said the netherese lord. "Yes... and so much more. Please tell prince Lamorak yourself that I stole the gem from him as fairly as he found it himself in the ruins of Hellgate Keep." "It does not belong to him whatsoever!" said Curudin as he poked his finger into the chest of the powerful Shade lord. " You tell him this yourself and feel the shame of defeat as you and your warriors walk away with nothing but my gratitude in not slaying you all right now, right here." The Trickster-Touched moon elf looked at lord Darenfell keenly and spat in his face with a smirk on his elven lips. "You're a mere messenger, so take a message to your vile, weak Prince of Shar and tell him that I will bring down all of Shade Enclave before I give up The Shadow Gem."
Lord Darenfell Perithintine had enough of this verbal abuse and raised his green staff to cast a killing spell upon Curudin. But before the Shade lord could utter a word, Curudin reacted with lightning speed and drew a knife from his belt to find a home in the chin of the the Netherese shade. With preternatural quickness the moon elf opened the shadovar's neck from ear to ear with a spinning slash of his powerful longsword. At the same moment, Terrindill Shaelarra shadow-stepped behind the netherese warrior captain and skewered his skull with a single quick stab of his fine, enchanted elven thin blade. "Take this message back to your beloved Prince Lamorak... Next time I choose to enter Shade Enclave, it won't be to steal back an ancient elven artifact, but to steal the very life force from his soul." The Mischiefmaker looked directly into the eyes of the warrior to the dead wizards right, and compelled him to carry on the message with a mere glance. All of Shade Enclave will soon hear of this failure. Curudin Ahmaquissar could only smile at the possibilities it would bring.
Faerun, In Turlang's Woods; The northern High Forest. 1376 DR
Curudin Ahmaquissar, The Trickster-Touched Mischiefmaker of Erevan Ilesere sat in the oak throne created for him by the four dryads who protected this particular glade of the High Forest. It was The Midnight Gambol! The tall, handsome moon elf was pleased by the outcome of tonight's celebrations. As the ranking High Cleric of Erevan Ilesere in the Silver Marches, he was expected to host the Midnight Gambol once a month at a different location. This particular Midnight Gambol was something special indeed. Creatures and humanoids of all races and kinds gathered about. From the many races of the Fey, to elves and dwarves and a human or two. Animals both magical and mundane, monsters benign and feral. All were welcomed at Curudin's Midnight Gambol! Treants, dryads, quicklings, blink dogs, cooshies, fairy fiddlers, grigs, swanmays, Werebeasts, elves, dwarves, halflings, gnomes, humans and any other willing or fortunate being who happens to stumble upon the festivities.
Tonight was a special night. Terrindill Shaelarra, the sun elf Rogue/ Shadowdancer, Laeirlefain Starleaf, the copper elf rogue/ swashbuckler/ shadowblade and Pheyloo Audark, the copper elf rogue/ assassin were going through the ritual of the Shadow Walker. This ritual was imparted to Curudin by the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae, as well as several other schools of shadow first discovered by the elves of ancient Sharlarion. It was Vazzelshevrill Ahmaquissar himself that created the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae by the behest of Erevan Ilesere. The High Lore Gem contained the original lost arts of shadow, that has since been written down and shared among the other races as they are known today.
The five schools of shadow that the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae teaches and imparts are as follows; The art of the Shadowblade. The art of the Shadowdancer. The art of the Shadow-Mage. The art of the Shadow Lord. The art of the Shadow-Walker. The art of the Shade. Any Cleric of Erevan Ilesere can obtain this information freely upon placing the Gem upon their brow. Many races have copied these skills and abilities and have watered down the true art form of the individual talents, but only the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae imparts the powerful, ancient knowledge of shadow and trickery that Erevan Ilesere himself shared with Vazzelshevrill Ahmaquissar during the height of elven wisdom in the city of Sharlarion. The High Art of the Shadow Gem has been written down in books and passed down to other races to be utilized in lesser forms as we see today in the Shadowdancer prestige class , or the Shade template, but those are mere copies and a much lesser form of the true Art contained in The Shadow Gem of Sharlarion.
Curudin called for silence during the Gambol as he instructed the Sun elf to call forth his shadow companion and shadow dance together for the fey crowd as he began the rite of Shadow-Walking. The glade grew darker than night and the natural shadows surrounding the bonfire erupted into pitch black as Terrindill summoned his shadow companion to join in the ceremony. They began to dance to the sullen sounds of the faerie Fiddlers and the cacophony of the present fey beings that chose to stay invisible. The Mischiefmaker could only smile as Laeirlefain and Pheyloo joined the dance. Pheyloo cast an assassins spell to enmesh his body with shadow from head to toe, making him almost indistinguishable from Terrindill's shadow companion, as Laeirlefain called upon his innate ability of Shadow and Stealth and pulled shadows from his Unseen Weapons and willed them to cover his entire form as he continued to dance and leap and masterfully spin his blades that seemed to trail deep shadows as they cut the empty air. Curudin recited the words imparted to him by the gained knowledge of the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae.
Pheyloo Audark, the Copper elf assassin, suddenly began to toss multiple knives and daggers at Terrindill and Laeirlefain and himself while they danced with his shadow companion. A steady stream of blades came at them all as they whirred and ducked, reached and bent for every last blade thrown at them or tossed back into the air by foot or hand in their trance. As they caught them one by one, they would send them back up into the air to be caught again as they fell towards them and thrown at their feet in a circle that resembled an asymmetric star. The shadows surrounding them and the shadow companion grew darker and more thick as they leaped and fell, and jumped and quickly turned about again to grab two long knives each from the ground and cut open his forearms and let his blood spill onto the forest floor. The surrounding shadows eagerly sped towards the open wounds and infused their elven spirits with shadow-stuff to the point of breaking. Curudin continued chanting and weaving his arms and swaying his body as the ritual engrossed him and brought him closer to the apex of the melding of shadow and spirit. He smiled and laughed and screamed in joy as his three friends neared the end of their dance, and his voice boomed and resounded with power as he spoke the last words to the ancient elven ritual. The entire glade was cast into a impenetrable darkness that lasted a few heartbeats and left a deafening silence in its wake.
Terrindill, Pheyloo and Laeirlefain heard the fading sounds of the Griggs, chirping their legs in harmony with the drums of the Redcaps and the melodies of the faerie fiddlers and the voices of the pixie warriors and the strum of the lyre being played by the elven bard known as "Whispertongue", that always attended Curudin's Midnight Gambols, as they drifted off into oblivion. The last thing they remembered was the laughing... the melodic laughing of a strange, powerful voice. "You are welcome. You are blessed. You are shadows in the darkness!" A voice they had never heard before, but also seemed to be very, very familiar. Then sweet silence as they fell into darkness.
The story will continue.
Evermeet, 1274 DR
The alluring female moon elf looked down at her newborn child. The two midwives exchanged concerned glances at one another as she unwrapped her child with a quick gasp. For a short second or two she could of sworn the bright blue eyes of her beautiful elven son were swirling and dancing with tiny asymmetrical star-bursts, but once she blinked her own eyes they were gone. She gave a soft laugh and looked at the midwives, who stood silent wearing worried expressions of joy on their tired faces. It was a long and complicated birth for Evelyndis Ahmaquissar.
She had thought that her troublesome labor and difficult childbirth had somehow caused her vision and senses to play tricks on her when she looked her son in the eyes, but as she continued to unwrap her child she noticed two unmistakable tattoos on either side of her sons chest. Two asymmetrical star-bursts were tattooed on his skin and glowed a faint multi-colored hue in a chaotic, ever changing pattern. She gasped aloud this time and whispered a prayer to her deity that what she was seeing now was not just a trick of the mind or the result of an extended, painful birthing. As she held her son up before her fully naked, she giggled and began to chant a simple spell. After a few moments she cradled her child again and smiled with mischief on her lips. "my precious little Mischiefmaker, you have your fathers eyes."
Evermeet, 1294 DR
In the aftermath of her spell, Queen Amlaruil looked down at the six elven youths sprawled on the floor before her. As they lay immobilized on the steps below the ancient dais located within the Royal Garden her powerful gaze fell on the one elf that now stood up tall and without fear, unlike his companions which her simple spell had captured.
“He is very young and these six elves have seen no more than 20 winters,” she thought as she looked upon the standing elf.
He confronted her gaze smiling and stood in such a comfortable manner that Amlaruil instantly questioned her decision to summon her late husband’s Moonblade, as it flashed into existence in her hand.
The moon elf felt a palpable wave of fear and adoration wash over him, but he knew that the feeling was not because of the King Sword. As Amlaruil approached him, her power and aura caused an unbearable, all-engulfing sensation of sheer ancient power that his relaxed and confident mien collapsed into turmoil. He felt an odd sensation of terrible fear coupled with unbridled love as Amlaruil came close enough to touch him with the Moonblade. Mustering all of his willpower the moon elf shook off the effects of the Queen’s innate, ancient power. Raising an index finger the young elf half-bowed and said lightly, "I am Curudin Ahmaquissar of House Ahmaquissar of Evermeet, formerly of Keltormiir and allied by blood. I present myself to you as a rogue-in-training, thief extraordinaire and follower of Erevan Ilesere."
The Queen cast a swift, powerful spell around them both with a deft motion of her wrist. "So thief," the Queen said, "have you come to steal my husbands Moonblade?"
When an instant response was not forthcoming, the look on Amlaruil’s angelic face turned to a mixture of surprise, confusion and realization, all within the blink of an eye. She raised her hand to her brow and with a swift movement reached out to touch Curudin and then fixed him with her unnerving, ancient gaze.
As Queen Amlaruil looked upon him, Curudin Ahmaquissar experienced power he had never experienced before. The Queen looked into his deep, blue eyes flecked with forest green and seemed to drink in his very soul. While taller in stature than an average elf child, he was seemingly unaffected by her powerful aura; an aura which had compelled lords, kings and generals alike to bow before her in an instant. Amlaruil looked deeper into the soul of this dauntless elf child and found nothing but laughter and trickery and his wry smile deepened, the more she pressed her spell. The Moonblade of Zaor remained quiescent in her grasp and as her spell delved deeper, she understood that this Curudin Ahmaquissar allowed her to spell-probe him without resistance or complaint.
Her puzzlement showing, Amlaruil repeated her question. "Did you come for my husband’s Moonblade?”
The response was as swift as it was unexpected. "No my lady ... my Queen. I have actually come for you."
With a mere thought, Queen Amlaruil cast a Time Stop Spell and raised her eyebrow in anticipation. The world seemed to stop all around her, but she moved with the grace and speed of a demi-god. Curudin appeared transfixed in time before her, but with clever eyes, followed her every movement. For a moment or two, the Queen was aware of this and was taken aback. For the next 4 rounds, Amlaruil cast several augury spells asking the Selderine for advice and wisdom. Not a single deity seemed to answer her multiple prayers. However, right as the Time Stop Spell was about to end, she received an unexpected response to her augury. It was but a faint laugh at first. Subtle, unthreatening, yet commanding. Before the spell ended, the Queen, who both wise and old enough, knew she had heard that enchanting revelry in her youth. It was the laughter of Ereven Ilesere and she now understood that Curudin of House Ahmaquissar was Trickster Touched.
Faerun, In the Ruins beneath Elvenport, 1374 DR.
Curudin stepped aside with preternatural grace and agility beyond that of an elf his age. The clawed hand of the Glabrezu smashed into the solid wall which was just above Curudin’s head. As he rolled off to his right, he came up to his feet with a sword in either hand. Quickly mouthing the words to a powerful spell in his mind, he stabbed the Giant beast in the ribs with his Shortsword, as he skewered the massive chest of the Hulking terror with his powerful Longsword. Both left hand and right hand working in unison to destroy the Horror in front of him and his companions. The Glabrezu, a four-armed demon with pinchers that crush stone and magic that destroys the soul and spirit of all mortals, lashed out one final time at the Divine thief. With sheer laughter in his voice, Curudin Ahmaquissar released his powerful spell of Banishment as his blades tore into either side of the demon. With infernal curses and promise of torment, the Glabrezu was sent back to the Abyss for a century.
Terrindill Shaelarrah winked at Curudin for his stunning win against the Glabrezu and then went back to work on the magical trap before him. If not for the demon’s defeat, they would all be dead. Terrindill, a Gold Elf of superb skill and innate gifts in the art of Shadows, smiled yet again when the other three companions came along after true battle it seemed. They were all battered and beaten as Terrindill clicked his last lock-Pick on the Magick door and it popped open with a silent swish. With grins and laughs, the ‘Rogues of The Laughing Twilight’ left the extradimensional space to touch foot back in Faerun once again. Night was fast upon them in Elvenport when they heard movement up ahead, soon followed by screams of terror and the otherworldly roars of some abyssal beast.
Curudin signaled his five companions in thieves cant and told them to approach the clearing in silence. As they all came closer to the forest glade, the sounds of battle broke out with fair voices shouting and bestial snarls and roars filling the night air.
Curudin and his companions took a moment to cast a few spells on themselves and prepare for whatever battle lies ahead. After a few short moments they heard a piercing screech that reverberated throughout the entire ruins of Elvenport. Curudin and his elven rogues had heard that screech many times in the past few days exploring the long abandoned elven city, so they ran as fast and silent as hunting cats through the ancient woods. As they approached the clearing Curudin cast a spell on himself to increase his strength and another to increase his already inherent preternatural speed and agility, and a third spell to ward off evil in a large radius centered on himself. Several feet to his right he heard the soft chanting of Nym Nightsong, a Star elf Shadow Mage of considerable power that has been a member of Curudin's Thieves guild, known as The Rogues of Laughing Twilight for two decades now, and a trusted lieutenant and friend. As Nym was casting his Shadow Shield on himself, Curudin looked to his left to see Laeirlefain Starleaf, a Copper elf Swashbuckler of great renown in The Silver Marches, and another lieutenant of his guild, preparing himself with several magic items. Up ahead and to either side of the clearing, out of his sight, Curudin could imagine his other three companions flanking the small forest glen that the battle was taking place in. Far ahead stalked Pheyloo Audark, a Copper elf assassin that carries enough magical daggers to take down a Storm Giant. Right behind him to either side are the Wild elf siblings Saffrathila and Sathalindle Selorn, whom are both Rogue-Rangers of impeccable talent and skill. Saffrathila, the sister, being a Justice of Weald and Woe is a spell archer, and her twin brother Sathalindle is a Dervish without equal. With a count of ten to let his companions get into flanking position, Curudin sprang into the clearing alone and was sickened by the terrible sight before him.
Nine elves lay dead around the clearing. One elf was on his knees surrounded by three Fey'ri and two towering Vrocks to either side. "Never shall you retrieve the Shattering Swords of Coronal Ynloeth." the dying elf said with defiance. The Fey'ri leader stabbed the elf patrol commander through his neck with ease, as the magical blade drank his blood and life force. Before another move was made Curudin lashed out with a powerful divine spell that created a large multi-colored hammer, which flashed and flew across the forest glen smashing the Fey'ri leader to the ground with an audible crack before it instantly flew towards the Vrock demon to it's right, and smashed the beast in it's horrid beak, sending it spinning and staggering. The Fey'ri sorcerer to the leaders right, turned around and started casting a spell, only to end in a gurgling spurt of flowing blood as Terrindill Shaelarra Shadow Pounced from the darkness of the forest right behind the spell-caster and skewered the demonic elf with his fine, magical elven thin blade, right through his neck. Curudin couldn't help but laugh out loud at the sight, as Terrindill Shaelarra; a Gold elf Shadowdancer, tipped his sword towards Curudin and chuckled at his brilliant handiwork. Terrindill then told his Shadow Companion, whom he named Vrax to attack the Vrock that Curudin's Chaos Hammer just smashed in the face and sent staggering.
The third and last Fey'ri drew it's twin blades and rushed at Curudin who stood alone in the clearing seeming comfortable and unconcerned about the two giant Vrocks before him. Before the demonic elf even went five steps towards Curudin, he was stopped dead in his tracks by a rapid flurry of magical daggers that seemed to come out of the black darkness of the woods itself. The Fey'ri turned around just in time to see the Assassin Pheyloo walk into the glade and toss one last dagger into its heart with a simple flick of his wrist that astounded the demon-elf before he died and fell face first into the soft pine needles of the forest floor.
At this moment, six spell-laced arrows shot out from high in the surrounding tree line and slammed into the Vrock closest to the edge of the forest. Each arrow carrying a different potent spell meant to hamper, cripple and kill its opponent. As the second Vrock recovered from Curudin's Chaos Hammer, it was met by a Wild elf who burst out from the shadows of the woods and threw himself at the large demon with abandon. Twin swords spinning and lashing and cutting deep into it's flesh before the beast even knew it was assaulted in melee combat. Just at that moment a powerful black lightning bolt ripped the night air and tore into the demon from behind and lifted it up into the trees with a deafening crack. By the time it landed it was charred and smoking as Curudin sped towards the monster and stabbed it through its skull with his powerful longsword. He chuckled as the beast lay dead. The second Vrock was enmeshed with a plethora of killing arrows as Laeirlefain quick stepped beside the Vrock and plunged both his rapiers into the demons face as it shrieked out a terrible scream that blasted all six rogues off their feet and shook the trees all around the glade. Curudin quickly composed himself and shook off the effects of the Vrocks death screech, while his companions took a bit longer to get to their feet. With a wry smile and a lasting grin he saluted his friends and cast a spell of Augury. After several minutes of casting the spell he came to and spoke quietly to his companions. "I see now that our next misadventure involves obtaining the Shattering Swords of Coronal Ynloeth from the depths of Hellgate Keep", he said with an impish smirk on his handsome face.
*Faerun, Deep in the Caverns of Taerymdoom. 1375 DR.
Curudin knelt before the pile of bones before him, convinced that this is the remains of the famed elven adventurer Taerym. His six companions spread out among the large cavern they now stood in, flanking all positions and keeping watch. He was further convinced of his realization by the love letter he found in a hidden pocket of the magic cloak laying under the remains of this well known elf. A love letter addressing him personally. Beside the love letter was a Wand made of Shadowtop bark and carved by skilled and ancient hands. Yes, this was certainly Taerym, the fabled elf adventurer of whom these caverns are named.
Curudin studied the wand for many moments, using all of his gained lore of ancient artifacts before his eyes lit up and flickered with inner light as he understood finally what this wand was, and how the trigger word was so subtly crafted onto the side of this curious item. He smiled and tucked the wand into the side of his belt as he stood up. Curudin then produced a medium sized flask from his pouch of holding and began a chant to Erevan Ilesere as he doused the remains and equipment of Taerym with Feywine to consecrate the bones of the legendary hero. AS Curudin held up the enchanted flask before himself, it refilled, and he poured it on the remains once more with a final blessing of his elven god. Finally, when it was empty again, he held it up to his face as it magically filled itself, and drained the entire flask in one fell swig as he looked upon the fallen legend with mischief in his eyes.
Once the enchanted flask refilled with the potent Feywine, he called over his six friends. The lieutenants of his strictly elven rogues guild, known as 'The Rogues of The Laughing Twilight'. When his companions gathered around him, he looked to his left and offered his flask of Feywine to them all.
First to drink was Pheyloo Audark, a Copper elf Rogue/Assassin/Whisperknife who drank the entire flask in one gulp while praying to Erevan Ilerese to reveal the names of the Durugar and Illithids who enslaved him and murdered his family. Once the flask magically refilled, he passed it on to his left.
Second to drink was Laeirlefain Starleaf, a Copper elf Rogue/Swashbuckler/Shadowblade who chugged the flask in two swift pulls, while giving a prayer to Erevan for a mighty duel once they return to Silverymoon or Everlund.
Third to drink the Feywine was Saffrathindle Selorn, a female Wild elf Rogue/Ranger/Justice of Weald and Woe, that sipped several times until the flask was empty again, and prayed to Erevan for more divine spells to eliminate her enemies. Once the enchanted flask filled itself she passed it on to her left, where stood her one and only true love.
Fourth to drink the magical Feywine was Nym Nightsong, a Star elf Rogue/Wizard/Shadow Adept who prayed to Erevan that he may find an ancient spell-tome to study and use in his further adventures with his current friends and lover.
Fifth to drink was Terrindill Shaelarrah, a Sun elf Rogue/Shadowdancer/Shadowlord who prayed to Erevan for a more challenging trap to disable and bypass during this current adventure. He didn't think he was asking for much.
The sixth and last to drink from the sacred flask was Sathalindle Selorn, brother to Saffrathindle, a Wild elf Rogue/Ranger/Dervish who drained the contents in three great gulps and prayed to Erevan for a Cooshie companion since his Weasel companion died during combat against Countess Sarya of the Fey'ri over a year ago in the ruins of Hellgate Keep. As he passed the refilling flask over to Curudin, he vowed to repay the witch with the keen edges of his twin longswords.
As the enchanted flask was passed back to Curudin, he took a final swig of the Feywine and put it back into his pouch of holding at the back of his belt and said a final prayer to Erevan for the fallen elf adventurer Taerym, of whom these caverns were named.
It was at this very moment that a plethora of unearthly screams resounded from the tunnels to their right. An enemy approached indeed. The quick minded companions darted out towards the cavern walls on either side to ambush and flank the approaching danger. Pheyloo cast an invisibility spell on himself and flanked towards the right, while Nym began to cast a killing spell as he slowly walked towards the left of the chamber they stood in. Terrindill blended in with the shadows of the lightless cave and called upon his Shadow companion Vrax to aid him if needed. Saffrathindle called a spell to her lips as she pulled her mighty bow from her shoulder and followed the direction of Pheyloo as he turned invisible. Her brother Sathalindle had no such compulsions as he drew his twin longswords and rushed straight towards the tunnel the otherworldly screams came from and wore a sardonic grin on his beautiful brown face while throwing a wink at his deadly sister.
Laeirlefain stood ten paces in front of Curudin with both of his elven thin blades drawn and ready to kill. Each blade a powerful Rapier unto itself, but then he enacted a single ancient elven, innate word of mystery and his twin thin blades erupted into pulsing shadows. He turned his head back to Curudin who stood at ease and relaxed, and cast a knowing sly smirk to his long time friend before he jutted forward with trails of shadow following his blades. Curudin just stood there and quietly laughed at all his companions for their efficiency and skill at ambush and direct combat.
Followed by their horrific screams, a pack of 20 Vargouilles burst into the dark cavern. Disfigured human heads, with mouths full of long fangs and wriggling tentacles and long bat wings on either side of their heads, these monsters were from the lower planes, summoned by a greater enemy to devour and destroy any invader to the cavern complex.
Saffrathindle stood her ground 20 paces to the right of Curudin and let loose a full attack of spell-arrows at the front of the approaching creatures, unleashing a plethora of hindering and immobilizing spell effects that had the monsters behind crashing and diverting to fly freely around the enabled Vargouilles in the way.
Nym Nightsong unleashed a powerful stroke of pitch black chain lightning at that same moment, instantly dropping five of the creatures dead behind Saffrathindle's spell-arrows. Sathalindle met the first three Vargouilles head on with twin blades spinning and whirling and cutting and stabbing. His onslaught of melee mastery was too much for the monsters and they all three fell dead at his feet.
Not to be undone, Terrindill shadow-stepped beside four of the abominations and skewered two of them with his fine elven thin blade and light blade, while his shadow companion Vrax began to drain the lifeforce of the remaining two with claws and teeth. It truly still amazed Terrindill that Vrax looked exactly like him, but made purely of shadows. He laughed aloud and rejoiced in the irony as Vrax sprouted identical swords from his shadowy hands to continue killing the two Vargouilles he was battling. Terrindill riposted, feigned and delivered a double thrust that slayed both monsters he faced. Vrax was simply draining their life force with every shadowy hit of his shadowy blades.
Laeirlefain stood his ground also, with twin blades at his ready, enmeshed in thick, powerful, innate shadow. Three of the monsters flew at him with jaws agape, and he ducked, spun and somersaulted in one swift maneuver while slashing and stabbing his twin Rapiers and calling out to his innate shadow abilities to deliver death blows to the three Vargouilles his two blades connected with. As Laeirlefain lightly touched back down onto the cavern floor, he was greeted by the severed remains of the foul abominations falling about him.
The last five Vargouilles sped towards Curudin and he put his hands on the hilts of his twin swords, but never even had the chance to draw the blades, as all five fell dead ten feet in front of him pierced by daggers he knew so well. Casually walking towards him was Pheyloo, who breaking his invisibility spell with the attack asked a simple question... "Do we slay rodents of the lower planes all night, or do we get something out of this at all?" Curudin just laughed!!
Two days later the rogues came upon a underground castle. A temple perhaps. No guards, no security, no visible wards that a spell could discern. Built by hands, and no magic, It was a fortress glowing green with power. Curudin could feel the warmth sucked from his very breath. AS the companions took a moment to decide what the next plan would be, the massive gate to the fortress lowered and smashed into the cavern floor with a resounding clang.
Slowly and confidently walked two powerfully evil individuals from the depths of the fortress. The sheer power and presence of these two had all seven rogues rocking back on their heels. Curudin himself had never felt such unholy power before, not even from Bateezu or Tann'ari, devils or demons. Curudin gave a sharp whistle and his lieutenants acted accordingly, preparing themselves with spells and scrolls and innate powers. Curudin himself did no such thing.
Curudin Ahmaquissar, the Moon elf, Trickster-Touched Cleric/Rogue/Mischiefmaker of Erevan Ilesere would have no such preparations. He looked to his twin blades. His longsword was a Holy symbol unto itself, regardless of whatever trinket his deity demanded he steal for a symbol of divine spells. It was a Holy Longsword called "Hidden Smile", with its sister Shortsword called "Little Sneak". He looked back up into the gaze of the two powerful creatures before him. He yelled back immediately for his friends to not look upon them and to avert their gaze.
Before Curudin stood a Vampire Lord and a Werewolf Lord!
Out flashed Curudin's twin blades, and he immediately began to channel Erevan's divine energy to destroy this powerful undead lord, and his Lordly Werewolf companion. The Trickster-Touched Moon elf exploded in rapid movement, casting two spells simultaneously, while attacking the Werewolf Lord in melee combat. The first spell was one to protect him from evil in a large radius around him, and the second spell was to increase his size and strength. Laeirlefain and Sathalindle rushed forward ten feet, only to be smitten back by a sheer force of evil power. Saffrathindle fired off five spell-arrows meant to kill and they all fell short of their mark, disrupted by some powerful shield spell. She knew then that the Vampire Lord was a wizard, and the Werewolf Lord was likely a great warrior. She feared that Curudin was going to die quickly in this battle. All the companions looked on with such dread and dismay as they all ran forward to flank the two Lords before them.
The Werewolf Lord, a large bestial terror of immense horror and power, swung his greatsword with preternatural speed as Curudin ducked and then dived over the blade with a grace and agility that gave the Werewolf Lord pause. "You will never defeat me, the great lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw." The lycanthrope said with conviction. Curudin decided to maneuver the werewolf lord to his left to avoid the Vampire lord whom was casting a spell aimed solely at him. He met the Werewolf's greatsword with both his Longsword and Shortsword and aimed the block downward as to lessen the blow which meant to cleave him in half. Curudin was positive that Lord Nixelshevin wanted to eat his still beating heart. At the same time that Curudin was having these thoughts fighting the Werewolf Lord, a familiar spell washed over him. A powerful spell cast by the Vampire Lord to hold him fast and debilitate his every attribute. He actually let the spell take effect as he looked past the Vampire lord to see his Lieutenants screaming in helpless rage, unable to get past the powerful spell of evil the Undead Lord cast on the area around the battle. Curudin was helpless it seemed. To all appearances he was unable to break the bonds of the spell the Undead lord had cast upon him, while the Werewolf lord walked up to him in bestial manner, slathering and drooling over a slow kill.
"I am lord Harrowmont Velshadoom. Meet your grisly death wretched elf." spoke the Vampire Lord in a hissing voice. "May Lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw feast on your remains!!" He raised his hand back to cast a killing touch spell, and Curudin spoke a single elven word of power! Still clutching his Holy Longsword of Erevan Ilesere, Curudin simply spoke the word "DIE", and it was a greater destroying spell, full of channeled divine might and coupled with a compulsion effect. Curudin laughed aloud when the Vampire Lord, Harrowmont Velshadoom burst into a plethora of spraying blood and Ichor and bones.
Once seemingly released from the debilitating spell of the powerful Vampire lord, curudin quickly snatched the wand from his belt that he had acquired from the bones of the dead adventurer, Taerym and pointed it at the large fell beast and spoke its trigger word. The hulking terror before him paused his advance and began to twitch and contort, but the powerful beast shrugged off the effects of the wand and lunged at the Mischiefmaker, aiming to sever his head. With the circle of unholy blight dismissed with the Vampire Lords death, the six other companions ran to the pile of blasted gore that was the slain unholy Lord and began to cut off it's head from its destroyed body and burn the remains before it could regenerate back to life. Thirty feet away the melee fight continued between the Werewolf Lord and the Mischiefmaker, with Curudin displaying a flourish of cuts and stabs and ripostes that kept the massive lycanthrope at bay. With sheer brute strength the Werewolf Lord managed to wound Curudin several times on his arms and torso, but the speed and agility of the Trickster-Touched moon elf was far too great for the beast to land a killing blow against him.
Pheyloo, Sathalindle and Saffrathilia broke away from their other three companions who continued to finalize the destruction of Lord Harrowmont, and rushed to help their leader who was engaged in melee combat with the large terrifying lycanthrope. Saffrathilia fired off three arrows at the monstrous werewolf that found their mark in its back, but if the arrows had any effect at all, it didn't show. Pheyloo began throwing dagger after dagger, including several enchanted daggers and knives at Lord Blackmaw, but again, if they had any effect the beast just shrugged them off. Sathalindle raced forward to join the melee, but Curudin shouted to them all to stand back.
"You will die at my feet elf, and I will suck the marrow from your bones.", snarled Lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw as he disengaged his glowing greatsword long enough to swing it down by his feet, behind his back and up over his head with a blow that was meant to cut the moon elf in half down the middle. Curudin dived to his left and rolled ten feet away, coming up to his feet and turning around with his Holy sword raised high into the air as he called forth a spell that brought a column of divine fire down upon the lupine terror. The werewolf lord howled in agonizing pain as the power of the spell burned its fur and melted its skin in places to slide off his bones and fall to the floor.
When the spell was over, Lord Blackmaw stood there with smoldering fur and melted flesh, with a look of pure hate on his horrible canine face. Falling into a berserkers rage, the werewolf lord threw his mighty greatsword at the moon elf and pounced, screaming "I shall rend the flash from your body and feast on your heart." Curudin's companions watched in dismay as the fell beast flew towards the Mischiefmaker with dagger-long claws extended and canine jaws wide open for an overwhelming, bestial attack that would surely overpower and kill their long time friend. Curudin Ahmahquissar sheathed both his weapons lightning fast and just stood there relaxed and confident. All six of his lieutenants cried out helplessly as the large monster was almost upon him.
At the very last second, the Trickster-Touched Mischiefmaker just simply disappeared right before Lord Blackmaws eyes as he enacted his divine ability to Side-Slip. Within the span of a single heartbeat, he reappeared behind the monstrous creature and performed a sneak attack with his short sword "Little Sneak", that critically wounded the lycanthrope, and severed its spine in half.
Lord Nixelshevin Blackmaw collapsed to the cavern floor with a thud and lay there very still. As Curudin stared down at the disabled beast, he could see the look of pure, fell rage in its evil, orange, bloodshot eyes. The moon elf pulled out that curious wand again that he found on the remains of the elf Adventurer Taerym, and with a knowing wry smile he spoke its trigger word as a ray of white energy erupted from its tip and hit the monster in its massive chest. Blackmaw's hybrid body began to contort and snap and pop audibly as the convulsions twisted his limp form. Within moments the enormous werewolf lord was replaced by a tiny orange frog as the wand of Polymorph enacted its spell.
As the Mischiefmakers companions walked up beside him, he tucked the wand back into his belt and could not suppress a heartfelt chuckle as he said "May you continue to burn in the fiery pits of Gehenna, Lord Frog!!." He then stomped the werewolf lord-turned frog with the heel of his leather boot.
Faerun, In the Dwarven ruins of Ascore, 1376 DR.
The Night Hag cackled with delight as her Ghast and Ghoul minions swarmed the six elven rogues, and her Death Knight servant kept their tall elf leader busy in combat. She began to ready a spell of decay when three magic daggers suddenly sprouted from her chest, disrupting her spell and staggering her back a few feet. The Night Hag known as Zarlemina screamed out a curse at the handsome copper elf who stood before her, thirty paces away, smirking despite the forty ghouls and ghasts surrounding him and his companions. He suddenly ducked down to the ground as four black shafted, spell-enchanted arrows flew over his head to slam into Zarlemina in her shoulders and abdomen. Another furious curse came off the Night Hags lips, but this time bringing a baleful spell of withering that washed out from her in a cone, spreading 50 feet from her emaciated form, to encompass the handsome copper elf assassin who drew three more daggers in each of his hands, and past him to Saffrathindle, the wild elf ranger who peppered her with spell-arrows. Pheyloo shrugged off the withering spell as he began to throw his six daggers at the hag, but the female wild elf was not so fortunate as the terrible spell took hold of her and she clawed her own body as she dropped to the ground moaning in pain.
Sathalindle Selorn, the wild elf brother of Saffrathindle, could not hear his sisters screams and moans as he was engrossed in the combat dance of the Dervish, lopping off arms, heads and legs of the undead surrounding him and his fellow companions. To the right of Sathalindle stood the copper elf Laeirlefain Starleaf, who had a completely different fighting style, more piercing and slashing and precise strikes than the whirlwind of attacks that was the Dervish wild elf. Laeirlefain worked his twin elven thin blades with such skill that the undead coming at him couldn't even begin to claw or bite or overwhelm him. To the left of Sathalindle stood Terrindill Shaelarrah, a Sun elf Shadowdancer who was more talented at disarming and bypassing magical traps and wards than fighting hoards of undead with his rapier and elven light blade. All the same, Terrindill held his own against the ghouls and ghasts in melee combat with the help of his Shadow Companion and his innate abilities to warp and control the shadows around him.
Behind his three friends, Nym Nightsong had been silently casting a powerful shadow-spell. The Star elf shadow mage finished his incantations with a flourish and laughed aloud as a pitch black fireball erupted from his left hand to drive into the chest of the nearest ghast and exploded the creature into a thousand pieces as it arced into a chain of dark destruction that felled no less than thirty ghouls and ghasts as it made its way around the hungry packs of undead, burning and melting flesh and bone, and slaying all in it's path. Before the spell even ended, Nym began casting another deadly evocation. Behind him, Saffrathilla continued to writhe in agony as the Night Hags withering spell wracked her body. Before he could react, he saw Pheyloo casting a quick spell of invisibility and abruptly disappear. Knowing his Assassin friend was keeping the hag busy, Nym continued to focus on his spell and the undead monsters pressing in on them all from three sides. Sathalindle, Laeirlefain and Terrindill were fighting furiously to keep the creatures from getting past them and joining the Night Hag and tearing Saffrathindle apart as she lay there helpless in the clutches of the evil spell.
Curudin Ahmaquissar ducked under the broad sword of the Death Knight as the undead warrior slashed at his neck and came forward with a shield bash only to notice the tall moon elf rolling past him while chanting something he couldn't understand. As Curudin's roll came to a stop and he pivoted on his right heel and turned around to face the knight, he held aloft his Holy long sword of Erevan Ilesere and channeled the divine might of his trickster god and smote the death knight in its face with a multi-colored beam of power. The ancient death knight known as Sir Krestov stood there transfixed, with arms open wide, dropping his archaic weapons and bellowing a loud, low moan that sounded like relief as he disintegrated into a pile of ash and armor. The Mischiefmaker immediately turned his attention to his companions and a sour frown crossed over his handsome elven face.
Curudin seen Saffrathindle laying on the ground writhing in the hag's spell, being drained of her life-force, and came to the conclusion that he had two choices. He could dispel the withering curse and ignore this creature from the lower Planes, or kill the hag outright and hopefully end the affliction. Before the Mischiefmaker could decide his course of action, he noticed the assassin Pheyloo Audark appear behind the Night Hag with his two enchanted daggers buried hilt deep in either side of her neck. Her eyes bulged out in disbelief and she opened her fanged mouth to spit out a curse of death around her, but Pheyloo retracted one of his knives to slit her throat from ear to ear while whispering something grim that only she could hear.
Nym Nightsong finished his spell and called forth a dark Ice Storm of devastating destruction that froze entire packs of ghouls and ghasts where they stood, knowing that when the spell ended the undead would be slain by the sheer power of the cold damage he inflicted on them. Nym then drew out his twin short swords and rushed to join his friends who were engaged in melee with the remaining undead, and used every skill and trick he knew as a rogue to backstab and cripple their foes. He was smiling the entire time.
The Trickster-Touched moon elf rushed to Saffrathindle and laid hands on her, placing a hand on her head and on her chest while asking Erevan Ilesere to give him the divine power to remove the curse placed on her by the Night Hag. She lay still for a few moments before she opened her eyes and reached up to kiss the Mischiefmaker on his lips in casual thanks. Her brother Sathalindle and her lover Pheyloo Audark helped her up to her feet as she drank a healing potion for good measure. The companions were discussing their next move when suddenly a cold voice spoke from behind Curudin. "Impressive work Mischiefmaker. Very impressive indeed". All seven companions turned about to see a tall Shadovar wizard, surrounded by ten shadovar warriors. The individual was seemingly important due to his clothing and the green staff held in his hand, that glowed a faint purple hue as he finished his sentence. "I am Lord Darenfell Perithintine of Shade Enclave, Arcane adviser to Prince Yder, Arcane devotee to Lady Shar and emissary of the Netherese." Curudin walked straight up to Lord Darenfell and pushed him back hard with one hand while silently calling a powerful divine spell to his mind. "So, Lord Shade, I assume you watched our plight and did nothing to help us? Or else you and your fellows were so enamored of our prowess that you were entranced with inactivity." said the Mischiefmaker with dripping sarcasm in his tone. The Shade lord stood there measuring the Trickster-Touched moon elf for a few moments before he bowed before Curudin in an archaic sweep of his staff and replied, "Not many adventurers can defeat a Night Hag and a Death Knight servant, let alone a hoard of undead at the same time. I merely waited for the outcome before I revealed our presents." Curudin walked up even closer to lord Darenfell and almost touched noses before he stood his ground and looked into the shadovars eyes.
"Choose your words wisely and speak quickly before I lose my flighty humor on your facade." Curudin calmly placed his hands over the hilts of his twin swords as he finished his statement. The Netherese lord smiled and bowed again, coming back up with a grand smile on his swarthy face. "Prince Lamorak would like his tel'kiira back, in no uncertain terms." The unbridled laughter that came from Curudin Ahmaquissar at that moment was like the angry chimes of a thousand drunk pixies. "Prince Lamorak would like back his elven wrought tel'kiira, crafted in the ancient city of Sharlarion, that Vazzelshevril Ahmaquissar himself made before the Crown Wars?" said Curudin as he shoved lord Darenfell back with an open palm to his stout chest. The shadovar lord rocked back on his heels with the sheer strength of that simple push. "Your precious prince took the Selu'Kiira Rilan'Vae from the ruins of Hellgate Keep and has no claim on the gem. It is a sacred, divine work of art and power that should never have come into his possession. If your master is upset with the fact that I casually stole into the enclave and took back what belongs to the people, then so be it. Maybe your prince Lamorak is a fallible coward who sends little wizards to do his dirty work."
Lord Darenfell visually brimmed with seething rage at those words. The shadovar warriors surrounding him fell into a attack formation guided by their captain and awaited their commands. "I suppose you don't have the tel'kiira on your belongings at this moment you wretched elf, do you?"
"The Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae has a name." said Curudin with a wide, grim smirk on his lips. "Can you speak it's name lord Shade?" "It's the Shadow Gem of Sharlarion, is it not?" said the netherese lord. "Yes... and so much more. Please tell prince Lamorak yourself that I stole the gem from him as fairly as he found it himself in the ruins of Hellgate Keep." "It does not belong to him whatsoever!" said Curudin as he poked his finger into the chest of the powerful Shade lord. " You tell him this yourself and feel the shame of defeat as you and your warriors walk away with nothing but my gratitude in not slaying you all right now, right here." The Trickster-Touched moon elf looked at lord Darenfell keenly and spat in his face with a smirk on his elven lips. "You're a mere messenger, so take a message to your vile, weak Prince of Shar and tell him that I will bring down all of Shade Enclave before I give up The Shadow Gem."
Lord Darenfell Perithintine had enough of this verbal abuse and raised his green staff to cast a killing spell upon Curudin. But before the Shade lord could utter a word, Curudin reacted with lightning speed and drew a knife from his belt to find a home in the chin of the the Netherese shade. With preternatural quickness the moon elf opened the shadovar's neck from ear to ear with a spinning slash of his powerful longsword. At the same moment, Terrindill Shaelarra shadow-stepped behind the netherese warrior captain and skewered his skull with a single quick stab of his fine, enchanted elven thin blade. "Take this message back to your beloved Prince Lamorak... Next time I choose to enter Shade Enclave, it won't be to steal back an ancient elven artifact, but to steal the very life force from his soul." The Mischiefmaker looked directly into the eyes of the warrior to the dead wizards right, and compelled him to carry on the message with a mere glance. All of Shade Enclave will soon hear of this failure. Curudin Ahmaquissar could only smile at the possibilities it would bring.
Faerun, In Turlang's Woods; The northern High Forest. 1376 DR
Curudin Ahmaquissar, The Trickster-Touched Mischiefmaker of Erevan Ilesere sat in the oak throne created for him by the four dryads who protected this particular glade of the High Forest. It was The Midnight Gambol! The tall, handsome moon elf was pleased by the outcome of tonight's celebrations. As the ranking High Cleric of Erevan Ilesere in the Silver Marches, he was expected to host the Midnight Gambol once a month at a different location. This particular Midnight Gambol was something special indeed. Creatures and humanoids of all races and kinds gathered about. From the many races of the Fey, to elves and dwarves and a human or two. Animals both magical and mundane, monsters benign and feral. All were welcomed at Curudin's Midnight Gambol! Treants, dryads, quicklings, blink dogs, cooshies, fairy fiddlers, grigs, swanmays, Werebeasts, elves, dwarves, halflings, gnomes, humans and any other willing or fortunate being who happens to stumble upon the festivities.
Tonight was a special night. Terrindill Shaelarra, the sun elf Rogue/ Shadowdancer, Laeirlefain Starleaf, the copper elf rogue/ swashbuckler/ shadowblade and Pheyloo Audark, the copper elf rogue/ assassin were going through the ritual of the Shadow Walker. This ritual was imparted to Curudin by the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae, as well as several other schools of shadow first discovered by the elves of ancient Sharlarion. It was Vazzelshevrill Ahmaquissar himself that created the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae by the behest of Erevan Ilesere. The High Lore Gem contained the original lost arts of shadow, that has since been written down and shared among the other races as they are known today.
The five schools of shadow that the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae teaches and imparts are as follows; The art of the Shadowblade. The art of the Shadowdancer. The art of the Shadow-Mage. The art of the Shadow Lord. The art of the Shadow-Walker. The art of the Shade. Any Cleric of Erevan Ilesere can obtain this information freely upon placing the Gem upon their brow. Many races have copied these skills and abilities and have watered down the true art form of the individual talents, but only the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae imparts the powerful, ancient knowledge of shadow and trickery that Erevan Ilesere himself shared with Vazzelshevrill Ahmaquissar during the height of elven wisdom in the city of Sharlarion. The High Art of the Shadow Gem has been written down in books and passed down to other races to be utilized in lesser forms as we see today in the Shadowdancer prestige class , or the Shade template, but those are mere copies and a much lesser form of the true Art contained in The Shadow Gem of Sharlarion.
Curudin called for silence during the Gambol as he instructed the Sun elf to call forth his shadow companion and shadow dance together for the fey crowd as he began the rite of Shadow-Walking. The glade grew darker than night and the natural shadows surrounding the bonfire erupted into pitch black as Terrindill summoned his shadow companion to join in the ceremony. They began to dance to the sullen sounds of the faerie Fiddlers and the cacophony of the present fey beings that chose to stay invisible. The Mischiefmaker could only smile as Laeirlefain and Pheyloo joined the dance. Pheyloo cast an assassins spell to enmesh his body with shadow from head to toe, making him almost indistinguishable from Terrindill's shadow companion, as Laeirlefain called upon his innate ability of Shadow and Stealth and pulled shadows from his Unseen Weapons and willed them to cover his entire form as he continued to dance and leap and masterfully spin his blades that seemed to trail deep shadows as they cut the empty air. Curudin recited the words imparted to him by the gained knowledge of the Selu'Kiira n'Rilan'Vae.
Pheyloo Audark, the Copper elf assassin, suddenly began to toss multiple knives and daggers at Terrindill and Laeirlefain and himself while they danced with his shadow companion. A steady stream of blades came at them all as they whirred and ducked, reached and bent for every last blade thrown at them or tossed back into the air by foot or hand in their trance. As they caught them one by one, they would send them back up into the air to be caught again as they fell towards them and thrown at their feet in a circle that resembled an asymmetric star. The shadows surrounding them and the shadow companion grew darker and more thick as they leaped and fell, and jumped and quickly turned about again to grab two long knives each from the ground and cut open his forearms and let his blood spill onto the forest floor. The surrounding shadows eagerly sped towards the open wounds and infused their elven spirits with shadow-stuff to the point of breaking. Curudin continued chanting and weaving his arms and swaying his body as the ritual engrossed him and brought him closer to the apex of the melding of shadow and spirit. He smiled and laughed and screamed in joy as his three friends neared the end of their dance, and his voice boomed and resounded with power as he spoke the last words to the ancient elven ritual. The entire glade was cast into a impenetrable darkness that lasted a few heartbeats and left a deafening silence in its wake.
Terrindill, Pheyloo and Laeirlefain heard the fading sounds of the Griggs, chirping their legs in harmony with the drums of the Redcaps and the melodies of the faerie fiddlers and the voices of the pixie warriors and the strum of the lyre being played by the elven bard known as "Whispertongue", that always attended Curudin's Midnight Gambols, as they drifted off into oblivion. The last thing they remembered was the laughing... the melodic laughing of a strange, powerful voice. "You are welcome. You are blessed. You are shadows in the darkness!" A voice they had never heard before, but also seemed to be very, very familiar. Then sweet silence as they fell into darkness.
The story will continue.