Childhood Dreams

[Redjack]

"The filthy wretch is in the old crypt Lord Clive; give me a hand with this door!""Yes! Sir Niles!" "We have him cornered at last!"
Clive throws his shoulder into the weathered oaken door and it begins to give.After a brief struggle the door suddenly gives way and the two armored men stubble into the darkened antechamber. There, in the inter chamber. Movement among the sarcophagi!
“Forward to Victory!” With a battle cry, Sir Niles leaps ahead and Lord Clive draws his sword and they charge toward the Necromancer. Suddenly with a flash of black smoke and red heat Sir Niles shrieks and goes down screaming in agony as ugly wounds open up across his face and exposed flesh. Alone Lord Clive continues forward with his sword upraised to strike down the villain and avenge his fallen friend.
“Where is La’Kati you monster!” “And what have you done with her?”
The black clad Necromancer just cackles and waves his hand in answer. From behind Clive, an incredibly strong hand grabs his sword arm and yanks backward throwing him to the dusty marbled floor like a doll. Red glowing eyes filled with cold hate loom over him as a skeleton starts ripping at Clive with its claws.
A faint distant call breaks through the moment of certain doom.
“Clive! Where are you! Get home now you lazy Brat!”
Poof! The fantasy vanishes as Clive jumps to his feet and runs out of the old crypt tossing his wooden sword to the grass as he runs across the carefully manicured lawn toward the Undertakers house.
“Yes Ma, I’m here.” Clive calls back.
Mom leans against the doorway a glass of red wine in her hand as usual.She gives him a cold stare as she appraises him. ‘You are all dirty and you know your Father was expecting you to help him.” “The funeral will be in two hours, get your ass over to help him now!” Giggles in the background announce that moms cronies are here drinking and gossiping. Best he stays out of her way till she was asleep late tonight.
“Yes Ma.”
Clive hot foots it toward the centrally located Mortuary, leaping over headstones as he races across the graveyard. Laughter from the women fades in the background.

“Pa! I’m here!” Clive calls out anxiously.
His father, bent over silver clad coffin, glances up distractedly, “Yes, there you are boy.” “Get in the reception room and help Jeb arrange the flowers and anything else you see out of place.” “This here man was once the Mayor of the Xorhun you know.” “Everyone will be here.” “Likely even that slip of an elven girl you fancy.” “You don’t understand how important this is to me.” “All the city leaders and noble families from across all Turmish will be coming in a couple hours.” “Screw this up for me and I will knock the daylights out of you.”
“Yes sir!” Clive runs out of the room.
La’Kati! She was coming too! Grabbing a rag Clive starts dusting the window sills vigorously. He could see her in his mind. A tiny moon elf, just right for sweeping up in his arms, that pale skin, raven hair and greenest of eyes. Her laughing lilting voice with that elven accent, how he loved her. He shook off the thought and set himself to work harder.

[Redjack]

A few years later:

“Ra nahvorli vaish troon Grulyn, Velsharoon!” Clive intones over the broken skeleton lying on stone slab.
He watches it carefully. There! He could swear that bone moved toward the others.
He flips a page carefully so not to damage the aged parchment. Fascinating; he was finally making some progress. Ever since he found this old tome among scattered bones in an ancient sarcophagus he had been spending every spare minute reading it. It was almost as if he could not put it down. He thought about the spell book almost as much as La’Kati.
La’Kati! Oh no! He was late! Grabbing up the cracked leather bound book he sprinted out the crypt and through the graveyard. He raced past the tall wrought iron gates of the entrance to the city cemetery and across the surrounding fields. Panting, out of breath, he saw the stream ahead that wound down out of the Orsraun Mountains as it headed toward Vilhon Reach.
There she was, he paused, all thought of the burning pain in his lungs forgotten.
“Hello love”, she called to him with that musical voice of hers that he heard in his dreams. “Come join me.” She patted the grassy bank next to her. The bubbling of the water over the rocks almost drowning out her words. He slid down next to her and his words failed him again as he looked into those gold flecked eyes.
“S-S-sorry I’m late. I was…”
“Never you mind Clive” She laughed.
Wordlessly he throws his arms around her and kissed her with passion.
She places a hand against his lips and said, “Clive.”
They sat in silence for some time listening to the night.
She turns towards him. Her large eyes showed deep troubled emotion as she spoke.
“Father……. Has chosen for me, of the Teu-tel-quessir.”
She turned her face away.
Stunned he stares at her in silence. He reached out to touch her glossy black hair.
“What do you mean!”
“You know what I mean.” “Father will not accept you, a human.”
“Oh Clive, you knew, I told you so.” “Even though your family is highly placed and respected in Xorhon.”
“You are human.”
With a lump in his throat he leaps to his feet and once more is flying through the night.
“Clive! Oh do come back!” Her voice calls from behind him.
He runs home until stumbling, sobbing, he collapses beneath a towering old headstone and gasping for air he wipes at the tears in his eyes as he leans up against the worn marble monument to a life long lost to time.
Selune lighting the scene. In anguish he pounds his fist against the earth. What does he have! Nothing!
Father has his work and his city council meetings. Mother had her friends and parties, but even those had been becoming fewer as she had been so sickly this year. Mother’s eyes had gained a faint yellowish tint to them and she had been complaining of being tired all the time. Not that anyone had time for him, ever. And now La’Kati! She would be given away to another fine elf lad and he would be alone.
“Clive.” A hesitant voice whispered to him.
Wiping his eyes he stands up quickly. “La’Kati! Please I love you!” he blurts out.
Large green eyes look back at the broken boy before speaking softly.
I know that Clive and I love you. But you can not ever be blessed by my father. You are too fleeting. Your life is like a rose that blooms and is beautiful before loosing it's petals and falling away,
.Then changing the subject she lifts the bound tome before her and holds it out to him.
“You left this book.” “It's so old, what is it about.”
“Oh thanks” He snatches it out of her hands. “It’s nothing.”
“Clive?”
“Ok, I have been reading it a lot.”
She stands facing him looking into his face and he finds that he cannot lie to her.
“I will show you. I will show you what I can do.” He says softly.
“I am, I am, I can do things. Look! See what I can do. Understand this!” 'Oh La'Kati I can bend things toward my will, Amazing things. Look and see.
With the fury and pain Clive is feeling, he makes the intricate motions with his hands and mutters the incantation.
“Noemie Kaportss!”
Light flashes and earth beneath their feet heaves with a rumble of sound.
La’Kati shrieks in terror and falls back as a skeleton raises itself from the earth and turns its red gleaming eyes towards the girl. Then disregarding the screaming elf maiden, it turns towards the master and stands motionless but alert. Silence falls and the wind blowing through the trees is all that can be heard.
Clive is the first to react and staring at the apparition and stutters, “ahhh, ahh, g,ga go away.”
The skeleton immediately marches into the darkness among the tome stones and is lost from sight.
The elf girl slowly gains her feet and with a white face turns toward Clive.
“What have you done! Oh Corellon protect us!” “Clive , No!, oh no!”
Backing away from the shocked human teen she turns and flees toward the cemetery gate leaving Clive standing mouth open.

[Redjack]

Salty spray blasting against his face, Clive stands at the rail of the ship looking out over the windswept sea, white knuckles clinch the rail as his mind drifts back to the events of the 7 months earlier.

Father was livid.

“What have you done!” “You have ruined me!” “All we have worked towards and now this!” “What are you!”
“You think you are a necromancer!” “Some foul monster calling up demons now?” “I worked and worked to make this family something.” “We have respect and a voice on the city council even!”
“You worship demons! Devils! Call to some evil god!” “Undead!” Kelemvor forgive us!” “I put them in the ground where they belong and you call them back?”
Clive looks at the ground in silence.
“Her father has told them you know.” They say you call up undead and dance with devils in the light of Selune.” “They stare at me!” “They say you take their loved ones that have passed on and make them into monsters that walk the lands at night!” “I am undone!”
Clive looks up. “Father, It is not true.”
Red faced, his father stares at him. Then pointing out the door yells.
“Get out! Get out and never come back you, you failure! You are not my son.”
“If I ever see you again I will put you in chains myself!”
Clive turns way in shame as he stumbles down the hall and to his room.
Gathering his things, he pauses as he picks up golden ring La’Kati had given him .It had elven runes inscribed on it that helped protect you from harm. She had loved him! He knew it in his heart. He slipped it on his finger.
“Clive?”
He turned. She looked terrible, the yellowish color had spread from her eyes, now her complexion seemed to have a yellowish tinge to it. That can not bode well for her future.
“Yes mother?”
“I am sorry Clive.” I haven’t been much of a mother I know.”
“Here take this.” She hands him a heavy purse. Very heavy.
“This will take you far. Go to the City, go to the Dragon Coast. “Get away from here and forget about us.”
He took her advice and the gold.

Wind howled and the sea surged as the ship rose up and over the swell of the waves.
He would close his heart against weakness. There was no love. It was a weak foolish emotion that caused pain and failure. He would find strength and power. He was somebody. He knew it. He was special, better than those that lead meaningless lives clinging to each other like lost children. Velsharoon. He still had the tome of course and read it every night. He would dedicate his life to the God Velsharoon. There he would find power and meaning. Death was not to be feared. It made you better.
He had no idea where he was going. But after wandering the Streets of Baldur’s gate for a few days he knew that was not what he wanted. He would head north where it was less civilized, just how he was feeling inside.

[Redjack]

“End of the line Mr. Tarsus.” The first mate says looking at Clive with a distracted expression.
“Cap’n says you can get off ‘ere or sail back down the Coast again, but it will cost ya if you say on.”
Clive looks skeptically out on the small port of Avanthyr. A couple other ships were tied up to the docks and the Bitch’s Kiss was about to take her place alongside.
“Alright, inform the Captain I will be getting off here.”
The first mate responds, “If it suits ya.” He then looks over his shoulder and barks profanity laden orders to the sailors scurrying across the deck.
Clive leaves the railing to go to his cabin and gather his things. Sundren, that’s what the sailors called this forsaken place.
The land was a relatively new territory with rumors of conflict for those seeking such and wealth to be had for those wishing riches. Good enough for a lad with no home, no hope or no direction. Clive disembarked and got directions to the closest inn.

Weeks turned to months as Clive drank in the local taverns of Sundren City.
Oh, he had wandered to the military ward and heard the message of The Triad. He heard preached fine words of hope, law and justice that just rang hollowly to his ears. The words sat bitterly on his stomach and made a fury rise in him that frankly he just couldn’t or didn’t want to think about.

One morning as he prepared to make his daily journey to the Prancing Patron he was struck by the lightness of his purse. He had to make changes as he was nearing the end of his means. He had heard other’s at the tavern speaking of a bounty on goblins and figured he could bash a goblins head in as well as anyone else. Instead of drinking he headed over to some obnoxious dwarfs’ shop and purchased a morning star.
Later that same day Clive left the city and traveled south and eventually joined up with another band of losers seeking to gain some coin from the ears of goblins.
Sharahan Hills they called the place, something about a chief goblin or something He really didn’t listen much and just followed the group out into the hills. Once there he experienced a emotion that he almost didn’t recognize. Swinging the morning star and feeling it cracking through the thick skull of a goblin gave him a sensation of happiness that he had not felt in over a year.
He began to liven up and laugh and joke with the others as they made their bloody way higher up into the hills. Finally they found a cave entrance and they all entered ready to do justice to a goblin or two.
Deep into the cavern and caught up in the excitement Clive realized he had become separated in his enthusiastic pursuit of a fleeing goblin and didn’t know where the others had made off to. He called for a few minutes before it struck him that maybe he didn’t want to bring attention to himself. Dying in here would be a fine fitting for his worthless life he thought as he slumped in a dark corner.
Surprisingly he found he had dozed off and waking, felt pretty good. Something was up today. Something was different. Fortunately there were a few burning torches that he guessed the goblins maintained. He had to make a plan on how he was going to get out of here. Feeling along a wall he jumped back as a portion of the stone slid up creating a doorway. Something lurched out at him with a growl and he instinctively beat it down before it could get its claws into him. Some form of undead. It stank horribly and from the sound of shuffling moving toward him there were more coming after him. He swung wildly smashing everything moving until wounded he sank against the stone wall victorious and alone again.
After resting for some time he heard movement and voices. He wanted to call out for help, but something inside him told him to remain silent and perhaps he would go unnoticed.
There! Three figures moved in the gloomy cavern and they were headed directly towards him!
He hurriedly stood up and gripped the Morningstar tightly.
A gnome, a girl and a human male materialized from the darkness. The gnome had a sneer on his face and stood there sizing Clive up before demanding who he was and why he was there.
“Just hunting goblins sir.” Clive replied.
“Then who slew these undead creatures?” the gnome said with a cold look in his eyes. The others stood silently and waited as the gnome continued grilling Clive.
“I uh I did sir, they attacked me.”
“As they should have boy.” The gnome laughed.
Then the questioning took a different tact.
Malice hung heavily in the air as the questions got to the real point.
“Whom do you serve?” “What god?” The gnome demanded. The others looked on silently.
Sensing he better make the call correctly he stammered out.
“Velsharoon sir.” The Gnome burst into laughter once again.
“A good answer boy but a weak god.” “I offer you more, much more.” “The true Lord with a power that you cannot imagine.” “Why do you serve Velsharoon?”
“So that I can command the undead sir.”
“Lord Bane will give you all that and more.” “These creatures you slew were His creatures.” Bane demands your obedience will you accept him as your Lord?”
Clive glances around nervously and seeing all eyes focused on him. “Can I think on it?”
Silence; except for the dripping of water from the ceiling of the cavern.
OK then I will do it if I can be given power. I want power above all things!: “I will Make Bane my God.”
“Call out to him.” Says the gnome quietly.
The air noticeably chills as Clive reaches for what to say.
It felt hard to draw the burning cold air into his lungs to make a statement of faith, so heavy was fear weighing on his heart. Terror was building in him to the point of mindless panic as he shouted out.
“Lord Bane! I uh give myself to you!”
“Louder.”
“Lord Bane hear my plea! Take my soul!”
Clive staggers as a force slams into him that he cannot describe with words. Strength, a hate so pure that it tasted sweet down to his bones. Darkness, coldness swept through him and physical pain and emotion that had been crippling him was swept away in an instant. The others smile and congratulate him on his wise choice of converting to the Lord of Darkness a smile that does not reach their eyes. They seem to be more sizing him up to see what his worth will be.“You may call me Master Biddle.” The gnome says. He extends his small hand and a black metal disc is offered. “Take it. I have much to show you.”
Clive took the symbol.