Fahren al-Heit - My
Alluvian Rose
Agony enveloped my very essence. If death had a form it was this Drudge Ravener.
I shook my head to force back the clouds of pain. Its claws had raked open what
was left of my fine Mattaker coat and more blood flew out as macabre decoration
upon the landscape. I wouldn’t survive another hit the last of my stamina was
all but keeping me on my feet. I could no longer dodge; my mana had enough for
another spell. A moment of Truth was upon me. If the spell ignited, if the
Ravener didn’t resist, if the economy allowed decent damage I would slay this
dark furred berserker leaving its body upon the corpses of his fellows at my
feet. It had all come to this moment. The passing of time seemed to freeze, the
swirling coalescing of magic forming a flame bolt counter pointed with the
beasts paw pulling back for a death blow. This could be a ‘bad death’ I was
too far out to hope to recover any lost items.
What folly had brought me here, to the near embrace of death, alone in the
Direlands? Travel back a few days earlier.
Nostalgia filled each burning foot fall as I crested the sand dune, It was as
though I was a boy again running across the sifting ocean of sand. It was good
to be among a fellow of the al-Ighaz. The Gharu’n Archmage had set up shop in
an ancient building that provided cool shelter despite the fierce sun that beats
upon the Amun Desert. Tentative at first he responded to the ancient greetings
with practiced aplomb. Over a cup of fine Uziz Coffee we spoke of our Isparian
home so distant, cursed the Viamonter’s and the Milianto’s. Compared the
Amun to the Naqut. Soon I was trekking towards Uziz. I had it on good authority
a friend there could spirit me to the Disaster Maze deep in the direlands. I
fear my abilities cannot bring me there alone as of yet. I make a note to myself
to make the journey when I am able to test my merit.
Soon I am within the maze’s humid walls, Drudges and rats fall, I avoid from
the Virindi, marking the day when they will no longer threaten me. Many a mage
traverse the halls. Even though we are akin to brothers in magic many neglect
the common courtesy of a friendly greeting or sharing the bounty of Tuskers that
are within. One exception hails me to the fact I was intruding upon a tusker
that they had claimed. With apologies I am recognized for the writings you read
now. I had sent my journals to Dizzarian, a mage of no small power. He tracks
the comings and goings of those like myself, a Battle mage. It is through this
that I reap some small fame. My emotion’s buoyed I decide to head overland and
try my prowess there. I find that I exercise my running more then my magic. The
art of the hunt has been sorely neglected. The cunning I will need to survive
out here comes slow for me. To my credit I stay alive and learn evasion tactics
as I go. I also get lost and then trapped in a box canyon.
I have to use the marvelous pea splitter to replenish my tapers, I could use my
magic’s to recall me from here but pride prevents it. This is, of course,
before my fall. The Gold wasps that block my way are easy to deal with; the
Drudge spawn that happens next is not. So this tale turns full circle.
The roaring of flame leaping from my wand does not occur, instead a sickening
fizzling sound occurs. I am undone; my eyes close in anticipation of travel to
the lifestone. My foe screams out and then nothing. A deafening silence follows.
I find I am slumped against a rock my blurred vision sees no Drudge standing
above me in triumph, rather a golden vision. Hands begin to apply compresses to
my wounds and a potion is thrust into my hand. “Drink this, quickly”, the
command is given in a female voice of Alluvian accent. As I quaff the potion my
exhaustion abates. My eyes see another’s eyes. Deeply blue compassion with a
hint of anger, or is it urgency. “Get up NOW or die here”. I spring to my
feet, recalling where I had fallen. Drudges are approaching. I pull my wand and
rob my own health and stamina to replenish my mana. My new companion is already
in action, with precision she pulls arrow after arrow and fires them into the
throng. The first drops before I can get a spell off. Sensing she is in no real
danger here I use the vampiric of my skills and replenish my health, stamina and
mana. I am able to drop the final one myself.
As she removes her helm Ebon tresses fall to her shoulders like a dark
waterfall. I am transfixed by the sight, beauty and deadly force rolled into one
Alluvian package. She notes my staring and slams the helm back on her head.
“Lets move”, her words are motion and I blink a second and nearly loose her.
I note her grace as she runs, so sure of her direction. With surprisingly little
time we are at a portal that leads to the Osteth town of Shoushi. I follow my
guide through.
In the tavern I learn my liberator is a Silver Ranger from the same guild I now
belong. She had come across me and arrived in time to fire a single arrow into
the back of the drudge. Her smile has an enchanting quality that draws one into
her confidence. She is easy to talk to. Her knowledge and intelligence combine
with her humor to make the evening go long into the night.
I think I have found a hunting companion. companion… hmmm
-F (Gahru'n BM)
Original Thread : My
Alluvian Rose (diary/story)