The Dark Rogue

A storyteller am I? Hmmm, to think of my deeds as a dark ichored ink for writing epics? Well mayhap my deeds be a tome of one mortals life tapestry.

The Dark Rogue sits down, a second pipe in hand. Made of a soft blue stone with a large bowl. "This is my report pipe. I use it when I report to the Clan Elders. It is magic'd so the leaf burns slow. I have had Eden burn for 2 hours in this. A gift from an old and dear friend, old in years, but what are years to an elf?"

Getting himself comfortable (but never unalert, like a steel spring under tension), the Dark Rogue sighs in a calm mind clearing way and closes his eyes briefly, thinking of a tale to tell. He opens his eyes smiling as he recalls a suitable event in his life. Before he begins he nods respectfully to the elf lurking on the other side of the tavern.

"Come sit and listen of my tale Athiator." he calls out. "Your immortal spirit will ner' be so close to the truth till you shed your body's coil from this physical plane."

With that, The Dark Rogue takes a pull from his mead glass and begins his tale.

"Twas many years ago, back when my blood was star fire and my senses highly acute - my experiences as a hunter far fewer. I was in a Blitz assignment. We were going into the depths of a sulphuric rift, to root out several demons that were terrorizing innocents. We were to go in fast and hard, destroy everything we came across and pull out before any serious counterblow could be delivered. My clan elders did not want me to go, my mind sense was not acute enough they said. I had not passed the test of the Elsvrabian Man-tangler - a flesh eating sentient tree that snared its prey using vine tendrils. They grew hundreds of feet high and sent their snares out for miles.
I argued convincingly that that although I had not passed it officially, I had taken several of the hideous things out prior and that certainly counted.

The rift was in the Northeastern Palsrob province, a cold place even for Evernight. I was the youngest in a party of 6, including a healer. We debated whether we should ride in or walk and chose to walk.the demons might smell the dragons. We decided to walk in and call for the dragons later. It took us 3 days to climb down to the monsters hideous lair

Now as you know most demons can mind sense and influence mortal emotions; mind terrors being their standard mental attack. So to counter this those of my clan have perfected a psionic barrier. It is much like self-hypnosis, but the visioning required is very precise. The need for concentration is so high however that few master it well enough to also participate in combat, let alone combat a demon. This is where the favour of our Gods comes in. You do for them and they do for you. Suffice it to say that once your course of action is irreversible and your soul is imperiled, you are given divine assistance in maintaining your barrier.

We paused at the entrance, readying our blades and wire garrotes. With a nod from our squad leader we entered the hellish inferno of inhuman evil. Things went very well, our skriers intelligence said there was 12 of them and we dispatched 7 of them without a hitch. Even a demon when surprised hesitates enough to make them vulnerable to mortal action. It is not a boast, but a statement of fact when I say 4 of them died at my hands.

We were scattered through out the complex, looking for the other 5 when I heard the screams. Screams of innocents being slaughtered. This was the first I heard of such a terrified sound. It goes to your marrow and reverberates into your skull. Your kind, your kith, perishingit is a sound of no hope, of pure darkest despair. It is a sound that drives me to end the existence of all things dark and evil.

I ran into a large antechamber where there were 3 demons. They were slaying the helpless mortals. Indeed there was even an elf of the light there, bound in magical bands to control the spiritual magics that all elves of light contain. She saw me and her eyes grew large. There was a change to them as I watched her stand, there was a light coming from them nowa light of hope.

The demons who were busy stuffing flesh into their massive maws saw this and turned to see what had given the elf hope. When they saw me they shrank visibly in stature. It was their turn to face doom eternal. I screamed defiance at them and charged into them, decapitating 1 of them immediately. Demon blood sprayed everywhere, burning everything it touched. I could smell my hair melting from the heat. Fortunately my clan members came into the fray from another direction and the other two were dropped quickly.

When we paused from battle we turned to survey the carnage. body parts were strewn in bloody piles live captives were hanging from wall chains. We turned to see the elf and saw the hideous vampiric cyborg creature of nightmares past, present and future. It was cruelly holding the elf, by the way it was holding her it was clear that it was ransoming the elfs life for its own. Three of its six arms were holding the elf close like a shield, its shining metallic fangs mere millimeters from the throat of the elf. The light of hope from the elfs eyes were gone, the green-grey now a dull despairing mud.

I waited for the squad leader to do something, provide guidance for our next action, but she was in trouble. Her wounds were severe, I could see exposed bone along her lower chest, her life force leaking out spilling on to the floor. The bombardment of psionic hatred from the cyborg beast was hammering her psyche, she was losing her mental grip on her soul. If she was lucky she would only pass out. I could tell that was her plan, the closer to physical death she got, the more likely her body would protect her mind by shutting her down into shock induced unconsciousness.

The others looked to me, apparently I was mostly unscathed despite the burns across my face and chest. A moment of uncertainty crossed me, time was not on our side, within minutes demons would come into the rift in support of their kind, and we would be trapped.

With little thought to the consequences, I dropped my psionic barrier to the demon. In an instant its probing mental tendrils came for me, hinting at insanity and pain, they confirmed that I was defenseless and like a tsunami the demons perverted rage rolled over me. Rather than pull away I grasped the images of horror and despair and pulled them toward me and threw them past my psyche into a lock of intense mental light. Like holy water on undead, the result shocked the beast, it staggered and dropped the elf. My companions tore the cyborg to pieces.

The psionic combat move I did was not without a price. I was far too inexperienced to do this without error. Because my timing was off slightly I had been cut through to my soul. Demon induced grief, rage, hatred and jealousy pulled me down into a homicidal rage. I turned and ran through the catacombs within the rift. I killed all things residing within, including one of my companions who followed me to get me out of the rift. It was a terrible criminal rampage, made possible by a brash move of an inexperienced psionic combatant. I rue the day still.

How I got out, when I got out, I do not know. I was a monster, killing all life and non-life I found. Rats, vampires, familiars, slaves, zombies, thralls and 2 demons fell to the unthinking blood rage I was spelled under. What and where the energies that fed me came from- gave me abilities to combat dark spawn, unshielded from mental attack, I do not know. They were not of this plane. By all physical and magical law I should have died fighting, but I didnt.

When awareness came back to me, I was naked and weaponless. I was under a large oak tree, loosely bound in silver manacles, by my waist to the tree. I was in fever. I could barely form thoughts but I looked for my water flagon. I could barely open it. I passed in and out of feverish awake ness for several days.

Someone or something was tending me while I was unconscious. The large dressing over my leg, bloody most of the time, would periodically be replaced. I spoke out on occasion thinking the person responsible was within earshot. I thanked them and asked them why I was manacled. I reassured the person that I was no longer enraged.

I never directly saw the person, but they left notes on elven linen paper. From the writing I could tell it was an elf and female. From the words and grammar, one who was not of high birth. A wild elf then. Was it the one that was rescued? Did that elf get out?

The notes indicated that the elf could read my mind, for all my questions would be answered via notes. When I asked out loud to see her, she drew a self portrait, complete with a lily pad floating on the pool from which her image was mirrored.. I still have the portrait.

Her name was Yronzah Silver Willow of StahlGlenn. She confirmed that she was the captive in the rift and that we had indeed reacquainted her with her freedom. She had followed me through the rift during my rampage and had followed me out. Typical of her kind she felt indebted to me and had tended to my injuries.

She was cautious of me, she brought me food and drink and tobacco, but never when I was awake. During my time of healing we had conversation of a sort. I talked and she wrote to me. She asked me questions of what it was like to be human and what we humans thought of elves. She thought me brash and impulsiveeven for a human. I responded that her behavior was likewise for an elf. This comment brought forth a tinkling of a laugh from behind the tree from which I was bound.

I put forth my hand, slowly, holding it in such a way that she could see I meant no harm. When she touched my hand with hers it felt soft like a baby. I felt her nervousness, but it was the loneliness for her kind that I sensed, the emotion rising up my arm to my mind.

I told her that I had the magics to send her back to the plane that she came, but she had to come with me to the Stone Hedge of Marklavar.

She said in her writing that she would be indebted to me if I did so, and if I wished to do so shed follow me. I of course agreed.

The next morning I awoke unbound. I packed my belongings and traveled straight to the hedge. I never once saw her during the 8 day journey, but every morning there would be a letter. At my request she described life in her elven glen in her letters. The world she described was fascinating and surprising. Bork was a much kinder deity there than here. The presence of light there on her world burned away the rot of putricity. There was no perversion of life there and Bork moved in gentler motivations.

On the last night I built a small fire in the centre of the stone hedge. I set out my personal effects and began the long ritual of blessing them and strengthening my guise of magic. I expected the elder gods of green life to not answer my calls, to punish me for my misdeeds, but it was not the case. I could feel the aura of power envelop me, the deep long cold of Evernight was kept at bay all night.

Just before the forgotten dawn I asked Yronzah to touch the key stone of the hedge, it was the first and last time I would ever see her. Less than five feet tall, slight and graceful; she appeared and touched the ancient stone. She was beautiful, as all of elven kind are. Her silver green eyes locked briefly with mine as I started the incantation, she said but two short sentences as the fold between this plane and hers opened, Thankyou Dark Rogue. I will not forget you or your favour. In less than a minute she was gone, back from this cold dark evil festered world, to her world of warmth and light.

I packed my belongings and left. I went back to my clan, my people. There was more to do.

With that, The Dark Rogue finishes his mead and looks to the White Wizard. "The gods have indecipherable plans. Many more than what we can know. I have been touched by many, their machinations moving me like a toy boat on a pond. It is possible the next assignment I am given will see me to my grave, but by my last breath I will see my gods will be done."


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