Fahren al-Heit
- Adventure and Penguins of Flame
I entered the 43 level of power the weariness of fighting
Tuskers has become too much. I have written of my fatigue and renewal. This is
about testing my incompleteness and my adventuring. My days at the al-Ighaz
adventure was in books and tales told late at night in our bedrolls. Gharu’n
magi battling with the Viamontian dogs. Since my escaping thru that gleaming
portal life has been adventure for me. I wander more then my nomadic ancestors
did. The mana flows so rich here that my skills have surpassed those who taught
me the arts. Still the thought of Tusker after Tusker to achieve the elusive
fourth school of magik makes me ill.
The new land to the North has called many. The Olthoi do swarm the upper platue
in raids that leave many Isparian bodies strewn over the landscape. It is a land
of strange new Tumeroks who are quite more civilized yet more demonic looking. I
ventured forth and spent some days among them. Learning their phrases and the
sad mutation and division of their people at the hands of those twice-damned
Virindi. I saw the great warriors and mages return with the head of the young
queen to the rejoicing of the Aun people. Long time was spent staring into the
mystic flames at the mysteries that it held. I fought and fell to the Olthoi
hoards. I explored the ancient structures that have long since turned to
disrepair. I searched, in vain for the elusive Aun who holds the key to learning
the fourth school earlier then my mage brethren.
As with all things though the lure of the final magical school sent me back to
the depths of despair known as the Black Spawn Den. My kindred brethren in that
dank place know all too well the frustrations and with it the lack of honorable
actions. I must confess that I have let my baser instincts take over. Never with
out regret and a oft broken promise to be true to my honorable upbringing. Yet
in a fit of anger I will find myself at a lower level then my Isparian Father
would endure. That was before my trek across the northern island. Now I have a
renewed sense that I can stay the path. I summon forth the protections and head
into the all to familier room, I weave my way down to the large circular room
where the three choices of paths make a loop well trodden by those within. As
luck would have it several tuskers join in attacking me. With nary a thought I
dispatch them with ruthless efficiency. I pause to recover and head down
further. A soul Tusker attacks I begin by making him all the more susceptible to
flame attacks. A dagger-wielding warrior takes this opportunity to slay the
beast before I can finish my flame bolt. He runs off laughing. With a shake of
my head I note his appearance and vow to stay the path. Yasif the Poet tells us
to “Avoid that which is corrupt and sinful.” To descend to this dagger
wielders level would corrupt my honor. I bite back a rebuke for the Poet also
says “Speak with respect, to friend and foe alike.” If I cannot speak with
respect to that warrior I should not speak at all.
I head again around the loop seeking more Tuskers to dispatch, each death
bringing me closer to the all-important skill “magic of creature”. I come
across a warrior working hard to slay two tuskers. I almost run by until Yasif
tells me “Seek friendship before wealth, for friendship lasts longer.”
Rather then seeking the wealth of another Tusker death someplace beyond I summon
forth magiks to make the tusker more vulnerable to his attack. His smile and
hardy thank you tells me that Yasif has more wisdom then I. Further down I go
and a spawn of Tuskers greets me. I dispatch three before another comes. His
flame sword cuts low the Tusker I had just prepared for my flame bolt. I choose
another target and run off down the corridors letting this warrior have his
pick.
I am shocked to see him following me. I decide what my next course should be. I
can transport myself out of here letting him earn his kills or I can wait until
he is engaged and turn to another target figuring I can kill more efficiently
then him. His words stop my thinking cold. “I apologize, I did not mean to
kill the beast that you were fighting.” The world changes with his words. The
three beasts around us are attacking and he is seeking forgiveness rather then
dispatching them. My course is crystal. I summon forth and imperil the three and
say with a smile “pick one there is enough to share” The grin that forms
beneath his golden helm tells me that we have earned each other’s respect.
Perhaps I should re-read the Ghayaraqa Yadina again and become more a student of
the poet.
I find a corner to re-apply my protections and run back into the fray. I note
another run up as I am fighting. This one respects my battle and stands to the
side. I note he seems ready to attack or aid me, another one of honor,
outnumbering those who play upon the grief of others. With a groan and the smell
of charred flesh the Tusker heaves backwards to move no more. I regard the mage
silently saying thanks for his hesitation. I run up the corridor when a spell
overtakes me. Creature magic has been used to boost my abilities. This is rare
to witness in this place, more so because the mage is unknown to me. I run back
to him and proffer thanks for the gesture. He smiles knowingly and relates that
he has read some of the letters I have sent to the Mage known as Dizzarian. So
this mage knows me. I am shocked to find that I have achieved some fame that
would aid me like this. Fire Penguin is the name that the mage goes by; the
reasoning beyond the name eludes me. I continue on my battle knowing that by
following my path I have been shown that my way is better. There will always be
another Tusker on another night. I only pray my reputation will aid me further
as I move towards my goal.
-F Gahru'n BM and loyal follower of The Silver Citadel
(LC)