A Broken Mind

[Peridan]

The screams were all he remembered. The horrible, soul wrenching cries of agony that ripped his heart to shreds. There was fire, a flame so impure that it scorched his body and mind equally, filling him with unholy taint.

"Who defeated us at the Viridale? WHO?"

He didn't know, he didn't remember. He was just in pain, such pain as the flesh was torn from his bones and the screams echoed in the cavernous hall. His fingers broken, his legs broken, everything just shattered. He could taste blood in his mouth that came from the deepest parts of him, and the smell of searing flesh emanated from his empty eye socket as a red hot poker was stabbed into it.

"Tell me everything, Legion scum! NOW!"

He couldn't, he wouldn't. They ripped the fingernails from his hands, his feet. They pulled his teeth.

One.

By one.

By one.

All the while the screams shrieked and pleaded, begged and implored. They sobbed and laughed and roared in rage. And all the while there were only hooded faces and tools of death. There wasn't anyone coming to save him, there was no intervention. Even as he recited in elvish, calling out to Corellon, there was no response.

"My Lord Corellon, guide me in troubled times. Lend my blade and my spells your grace and might, and may justice forever be served."

The words tumbled out of his bleeding and cracked lips, slurred and broken by the remnants of his teeth jutting into them and causing yet more damage. The screams continued even then, even as the hooded figures laughed and said that only by serving Bane would he ever find true rest. His back was flayed open by a cat o' nine, hooks pierced his body in places that were sensitive to their cold and merciless embrace.

When enough blood was spilled, when the floor ran red with Legion and elven life, that's when the screams started to fade. They went slowly, but fast and faster as the elf realized that the entire while, they were his own. And then darkness.

[Peridan]

They had found him on a tree. His hands and legs bolted to it, unconscious and bleeding out. He didn't remember it, but then he didn't remember much these days anyway. The elf sat in his cot at the Illmater temple, his eye focusing in and out.

He wasn't moving, barely breathing. He did not eat without help, he did not speak at all. So when the sounds of heavy plate filled the temple, it was a surprise even to himself when he blinked, only once. Baragorn D'Locke stepped into his room his blade glowing on his back in an unearthly light. His face read pity, and remorse for the elf's condition.

The elf didn't care much, though.

As Baragorn took a seat next to his bedside, setting his sword next to it, he spoke to the elf of things happening, of a lich that needed stopping. Again, the elf didn't care all that much for the talk as it was just noise in his ears compared to the horrors taking place in his mind again and again. But then Baragorn removed a sword from his pack. It was elvish, and glowed with a holy light. His sword.

It was his sword.

It all came rushing back in one moment, Peridan's life and duty. His friends, his enemies, but beyond it all he remembered who he was. Eye focusing, he reached out with blinding speed for the blade. Shocked, Baragorn offered it to him with a look of hope in his eyes. But no, it was not to be as Peridan curled Baragorn's hands around Peridan's sword, "Corellon's Judgement".

"I can't do this any more, Baragorn. I tried, and I failed. I see things and hear things that I cannot describe, that I cannot handle. The people need someone to lead them, to fight the darkness. You have to, not me. I can't. You have to stop them, you have to fight." Peridan uttered what little he could, until he felt the dark tide rising to meet him once again. He was returning to that place of dark and terrible pain. Of screams.

"You are my friend. I want you to know that." He said softly as his mind went blank once more, and only darkness remained.

[Usurper]

Terrible images,nightmares of recent events haunted his faithful's sleep.He watched as Peridan tossed,turned,and cried out in his slumber..It pained him to see Peridan in such a state.In most circumstances,Corellon would have sent another in his place,but the screaming,tortured pleas pained his heart,he could feel every ounce of agony Peridan was experiencing..His faith held out and Corellon felt it was his duty to visit this time,on the Prime Material in person while no other stirred to witness his arrival.

" This is something you must not give up on Peridan...I am with you and always will be."He whispered into the afflicted elf's ear..Peridan's features suddenly calmed and his struggles within his nightmares subsided.." I can only free you only this night,but I come bearing an important message which will aid you my dear Peridan..You need to remember...You need to remember the blood..it is your salvation..remember..." The whisper grew into an echo within Peridan's dreams and he slept peacefully for the first time in many moons.

[Peridan]

The dreams tortured him nightly, wrapping him in their dark embrace and whispering sweet nothings into his ear before he experienced that day again and again. An endless spiral of madness that Peridan felt himself sinking down into almost gratefully.

But then there was a voice. Strong, wise, and yet infinitely gentle. It soothed him and made the dreams vanish, even for just one night. The voice counseled patience and fortitude, it advised him not to forget exactly who he was.

He was a Legionaire. He was a Nael'Kerym. He was an elf of Evermeet, a soldier. He was a wizard, he was a friend, he was a guardian. These thoughts blasted through his mind one by one, bringing so many memories of the people he knew and the places he's been.

Teveriel, his master on the Green Isle, proud and strong, this elven Duskblade had taught Peridan his art and his values. Alcander, his first true friend here in Sundren who had turned out to be a traitor, a Banite. Elusa, a vision long since past as he saw her walk away from him. Hano, an example to live by. One by one these faces flew past him, the tortured darkness forgotten even if it was just for a moment.

Peridan awoke breathing heavy, sweat dripping down his face but his mind was the most lucid it had ever been. He could see things with crystal clarity that slowly faded as he felt the divine presence slipping away. He lifted off his covers, setting his bare feet on the cool marble floors. He made his way to a wash basin with a mirror, looking at the figure within.

The man in the mirror was not in any way perfect by any means. His face showed pain, and even now he could feel aspects of the curse working against the divine touch, struggling to break themselves free. Hatred roared against its bonds in his mind. Sorrow pleaded and sobbed to get free. Doubt whispered to him that it was not real, that it is all for naught. But then at the very back of his mind, in a quiet place, there was a man who remembered what he stood for. And that there was a vial of his blood somewhere that he needed to get.

He had a job to do.

Peridan strode past his bedside to where his things were kept in the temple storage. He would spend the next day praying in thanks to Corellon, and for the soul of Baragorn. But after that, it was time to get busy. His eye spotted an old blade, lying amongst the temples small armory. Not in the best condition, but......He picked it up, testing the edge. His finger split with a fine line of blood dripping down. He poured his magics into the blade, and it erupted into flame and glowed with an unearthly light. He offered silent thanks to Corellon and sheathed it with blurring speed.


Oh, it'll do.

[Usurper]

One of the many Broken Ones that tended the suffering and went about their duties hastily in the early hours of morning,stopped in her tracks to observe Peridan as he awoke from slumber and milled about..

She had been tasked with feeding,hydrating,and doing her best to offer soothing words of encouragement during his residency in their care..It seemed to her that his strength was returning and that he was preparing to depart.

Taking a few steps in his direction,she came to an abrupt halt,as if something was giving her the feeling that she had done all she could for the one-eyed elf.She could still see a troubled appearance upon his face,but something in his eyes burned with determination.

She sighed and gathered her robes about her as she turned the opposite direction.She whispered a prayer to Ilmater,pleading for her god to aid him in ending his affliction..When she stopped to look over her shoulder to perhaps catch his eye and offer him a smile,he was gone.