Coming of age...

[Seheren]

The rythmic sound of padded footfalls filters down the damp cave, a slow progression as he nears one of the caves rooms. He sees several other such side passages, and small rooms as he wanders down the stone way. The dripping of water playing an eerie, and echoing, tune into his ears as his mind wanders. He turns abruptly, down one passage, throwing aside the animal skin curtain of a door. Behind the skin is a small, pale lit room. A weathered, and beaten desk, with a small chair in one corner, and a makeshift cot in the other. He sits heavily on the straw cot, bellowing a defeated sigh and lifting a small book from beneath his pillow.

"Vie, this life! What can the old fool know of what I need!?" The young man hisses at the picture on the first page, the picture of a distinguished looking mage, late in life but still with a sharp edge about him.

"Oh, father, why leave me with this sect of hermits? Why did you have to die!?" He laments, heaving a dramatic sigh, and closing the book. He leans back hard to the rock wall, staring to the short ceiling for a long while, drifting away to a faraway land....



"Wh-- What? Who's there...?" He stutters, both surprised and annoyed, at the call from behind his curtain. The call soon repeats, the deep booming voice a more calm and monotone."Young Tal'Ressin, you have slept passed your duties.."

"Vie, this life.." The young man retorts bitterly, too quiet for the older man to hear. After another moments pause he responds more loudly, "How can I know the time in this accursed cave!? I dozed off a moment, no more..."

He could hear the deep windy sigh from behind the curtain, before it suddenly blew aside, showing the robed man on the other side. His face was a mask of calm and discipline, pale as snow, with amber eyes. A small tuft of white hair capped his head, and his body seemed far to strong for a man of his supposed age. "You have been in here for no less then six hours." Came the sour response, "You are due to your studies within the half-hour. You will come now." He added quickly, in an annoyed tone.

"Fine, but I hate it when you call me Young Tal'Ressin.. You know my name well enough, you old crow!" He retorted in a bluster of rebelion. To his utmost dismay, the old man hardly blinked at the remark, and with a sigh answered back, "As you wish Young Kavos..."

"Why can't you just call me 'Sin' like everyone else." He huffed, swinging off his cot and brushing past the man, too quick to notice the profound sigh, and horrified expression on the old mans weathered face....

[Seheren]

"Sin!" Came the hissing whisper once, then again with a sharp prod. The young man next to Kavos looks at him urgently, waiting for him to snap out of it, whispering and prodding the sleeping youth. Looking between the man and the front of the room more urgently now, he sits back in his chair, and shakes his head with a grin, looking back at Kavos with a roll of his eyes.

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Smoke swirls, creating whirlpools of noxious fumes, strange noises assaults his ears, his eyes sting as he gags on the swirling mist. Every step feels labored, as if some great weight is slowly crushing him, taking all hope and desire from him as it does. He thinks one step at a time, until in a rush of noise, he is on all fours, the air becomes crisp and freezing, then blistering hot and oppressive. He screams as the pain burns in his mind, his skin beginning to flake, all around him he hears laughter, or it sounded something like laughter. It was like two boulders clashing together, the force behind the laugh vibrating through his whole body.

Suddenly, the breath is ripped from his chest, his eyes feel near to erupting from their sockets, and he is pulled up from the ground, expecting to be smashed against it, or thrown into the maw of a firey beast. Except it doesn't stop. He keeps rising, and the mist swirls away, replaced by blinding flashes of light. The constant pulling makes him nauseous, feeling as if his organs were moving more slowly then his body, being pulled apart as he flew through the nothing. Moving so fast, unable to breathe, he opens his mouth to scream, and vomits. He continues to gasp until finally his lungs find a breath, and he screams, a roar of fear and agony. He feels still, weightless, and notices his eyes are closed, he opens them slowly fearing to see the mist again....

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He sits in a small room, carved out of the stone, four horrified sets of eyes looking back at him. It all seems so alien at first, as if he hadn't seen this place before, or the strange men. "S-Sin?" He hears next to him, turning to regard the source of the voice, it all comes rushing back, a whirl of all his recent memories, a slap against his mind. He vomits, and then he swirls down into blackness....

[Seheren]

Blackness. Everywhere around, all directions. There was nothing but black, and that laughter. He walked, but there was no solid ground, no way to tell if he was even moving. His mind was racing, as fast as his heart, trying to figure out his surroundings, the source of that mocking laughter. Stopping his pointless march, he turns in a sharp circle looking around, taking in a deep breath and yelling into the oppressive darkness.

"Who are you!? What do you want from me!?" He shouts, his voice cracking, hands shaking as he does. "What could you offer me, worthless boy?" Came the cackling retort. The voice seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere at once. It was like the voice was in his own head, but he could feel the vibrations from the booming call.

"Let me go!" He shouts again, his voice weak, with little resolve. The only response was more grating laughter, louder then before. A mocking orchestra of booming laughter from all directions, as if a crowd was surrounding him, growing louder and louder. The noise forcing him to cover his ears, pain coursing through his head. "STOP!!!!" He shouts, his voice angry and fearful, filled with all of his might.

The sound almost immediately stops, and he notices that he is laying down. His eyes clamped shut, he can feel the cold stone on his back, he can smell the damp air and the thick aroma of torch smoke. The hazy image sharpens, and soaked in sweat with a throbbing headache, he looks up at the stone ceiling above his cot....

[Seheren]

Its time to wake up..

The voice laughed. Was it in his head? Or was his nightmare not over? A familiar stillness answered his thoughts, assuring him that it was not real. Or was it? The pain was real, enough to blur his vision at first.. But now.. everything seemed so different to him. Like seeing through the eyes of someone else. Everything was sharper and brighter. Sitting up, he looks around the small room, still breathing heavily, sweating beads down his face. What was it that nagged at him, something deep within, something that wasn't there before. The thoughts were jumbled, a confusing swirl of images, images of himself. As the images swirled faster, bombarding him with thoughts of murder and torture, sharp pains drove into his skull, feeling as if they were splitting it asunder. He lurches forward, putting his head into his hands, and stops abruptly...

The shock of it all sent the swirl of thoughts, and emotions, far away. His hands shaking as he feels over his hairline, two hard lumps protruding through his thick hair. He pulls his hands back, holding them, bloodied, before his eyes. He could only blink as the mental barrage began anew, this time, however, it was different. All the things he hadn't understood, all the signs and memories. It made sense. "You always said I was special... But this!? What is happening to me?" He cries, looking at the book, the book that contained his fathers image. "Its not supposed to be like this!" He cries again, more defiantly.

Gathering himself, he launches up from the cot, storming about the room. The dark cloud of thoughts enveloping him, sending primal urges bubbling up into his mind. He should go torture that old fool Keeper, flay his skin until he tells every secret. Yes, that would be fun. He stops mid-stride, finding himself standing in the entryway to his small room. What was he thinking? No, he couldn't do that, what was coming over him? "He will tell me.. I just need to ask.. Yes, thats it." He says with little conviction, looking to squash the doubts and fear growing in him now. "Yes." He says again, more firmly....

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"He is conflicted. It is strong in him, Keeper.." The short professor sighs. "Even if he fights it... From what he says, there is no victory." He turns his back to the keeper, feigning interest in a small object on the dark bookshelf. "If his powers grow, and he loses control of them..." He says, letting the dire implications speak for themselves.

"He is not the first, Maeliar. We are here to teach them, and save them from themselves." The Keeper says flatly, offering the professor a dismissive wave of a hand. "We all deal with our heritage, the blessings and curses given us." He continues, before offering a sympathetic sigh. "Some pay more dearly. He is a very smart boy." The Keeper stands to his feet, and similarly paces, looking over the many things he had collected in his years. The books he had written. "He doesn't need to forsake it, just control it!" He turns, looking back to his guest

"We all do. That is nothing new.. I am saying he cant. He is lazy, and defiant. He doesn't have the discipline, nor will he ever." Maeliar shoots back, though seeing the keepers grim expression he retracts some. "I know! I know... His father was a friend.. Fine." The small professor turns his back again, sighing. "We will do everything we can for the boy, but he may not ever be ready to leave here.. Think of the problems he could cause us if he was let loose in a Human city.." With a loud clunk, he sets the object he was looking at down, turning back to face the Keeper again. "Or maybe that is it. We teach him what we can... And send him on a road far away." He grins.

"I don't know.. He was frightened when he came to me, though I saw the shifts in his eyes.. He is fractured..And I did not tell him everything."The Keeper looks back at the man grimly at first, though his look soon turns thoughtful. "But, perhaps that is best... I found myself on the road, and in his present state... He is dangerous to the others..." His hand rises to his chin, his eyes staring forward as the plan formulates in his mind. "Yes. Tell the boy he embarks for the north, in two-tendays. That I will tell him why.."

[Seheren]

"We cannot teach you everything from books, Young Kavos.." The Keeper paces before the desk in his private study, looking at the seated boy. "You will increase your studies for a ten-day. Then the next ten-day you will prepare for the road." The Keeper stops, looking directly into his eyes, taking measure of the cool and calm expression staring back at him. "You will then return after a ten-day out." He continues after the short pause.

"I-I don't understand.. The others don't.." Kavos shakes his head, a jumble of conflicting thoughts boiling up. "Where am I to go?" He raises a hand to his head, rubbing away the ache, and bringing back his concentration.

"You will follow strict instructions, leading to a remote area along the River Surbin to the North." The Keeper pauses, turning his back to the boy and shaking his head. "You are right." He says, suddenly turning to face him again. "The others do not go, but you.. You must. The battle in your mind is a dangerous one." He continues grimly. "One best fought in solitude. Ready yourself, for whoever comes back from this will be in control.." As he finishes, the Keeper walks behind the desk and sits in the well appointed chair. "Go back to your quarters.. You will need rest for these next days."

Kavos simply stares at the man for a moment, as if he didnt comprehend. He quickly regains himself, and seems to force his body into motion, steering it out of the study without a word....

[Seheren]

One year later

Kavos walked the tunnels, the darkness seeming less oppressive now, the urges less powerful. He knew what he was, he accepted it, no, embraced it. The voice, the voice taught him, told him what he needed to do, and he did it. He formed the Dark Pact, and his powers increased ten-fold. As he walked, he smiled at it all, at his power, his future, his life. He was something, he would become more. Now, he was in control, and how ironic it was. His blood called for action, and he complied. He no longer suppressed it, he embraced its wisdom! His intuition was a tool, one to use against the ignorant. He would leave, he decided, and make his name known, but he would wait. He could learn more here. His studies would not be complete for at least another winter, but when the time came, he would be ready...

The true question, however... Was Fearun ready for this being? The beguiling, charismatic boy. Or would fires burn in his path, leaving a swath of destruction in his wake?

[Seheren]

The personal thoughts of Kavos Tal'ressin, expressed through his Journal


Fools. These so called merchants I've been forced to ride with are near intolerable.. We've turned now, I really am a genius. If I had to ride the whole way to Icewind Dale with these fools I would have to kill one. At least one. Ah, but they will take me where I want now. With one horse injured, and my timely story, they don't even suspect it. Idiots.... Sundren. Ah, I wonder what awaits me. Two more days, at the most I am told...


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Third day, but the Valley is within sight, I will be within its gates soon, and far from these insufferable fools. I think I will poison one of the horses, or score the wheels down so they break. The imbiciles deserve worse...


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I'm in now. The caravan wont be leaving anytime soon, and surely I would enjoy to hear they were killed by tundra yeti's on their way north. If only I could bare witness.. It is quite the hike, to the city. I will leave by nightfall. It should only take half a day to make the City proper. Word is, bandits roam at night. I could use a few coins.

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I made it to the Library today. It seems on most accounts stories were true enough. There is one that intrigues me. There was a man on the way from the gate. Ah, Rebels, oh how they strike a chord on my heart. Even if it was a lie, I will find them. I saw a couple of these bandits, they didn't have much on them... I've found work enough. The primary Merchant Company of the area, The Exigo, payed well for a nights play. Goblins aren't terribly fun, but they bleed, and they scream. Ten gold pieces for a set of ears, I will not go hungry, or sleep beneath the stars again.... The companionship here is poor, so far.. Enough to keep me fairly amused sometimes. These adventurers are a careless and strange sort. It shouldn't be hard to spice things up a little...

[Seheren]

Fools. I despise those self-righteous Paladins. Babbling on about redemption. It makes me sick. Of all the times for the spell to fade, without another left. I should bathe in the fools blood, and give him to Father... I am sure he would enjoy that! But alas, that is more difficult to get away with now. I must be careful! No, I can deal with him civilly, it is just a small bother.. I have much grander designs to worry about, oh how the intrigue has fallen in my lap! A fertile seed, ready to sprout with but a simple push. I will sew the seed, and see it to fruition, Father will be pleased....

[Seheren]

The world is ripe, ready to be picked from its branch, ready to be gorged and mutilated. Swallowed, and brought into darkness, where it shall remain. This Valley is the epicenter for destruction and mayhem, and I have front row seats. I will continue to nudge the people closer and closer to the maelstrom of the Abyss. There they will behold the greatest horrors ever seen, and I will reign as the Harbringer of Destruciton, the Destroyer of Fearun, Champion of the Abyss!


I get too far ahead.. First things first, the descent must begin. Slowly.

[Seheren]

Do I envy them? I see their feelings, but I cannot share them. What does that make me.. What is it to love? To feel empathy? Is my life nothing but a humorous game to a father I cannot see? A farce. Am I just a shell of something living, that can only feel the worst of things.. Hate, pain, lust.. What am I?

[Seheren]

Another passage is written shortly beneath, and dated only a short time after the last.

No.