Refiner's Fire -- Varael Vincette

[R3VOLV360]

The last flames licked at the charred wood that was a little unknown village, near Icewind Dale. For such a cold part of the world, the fire was indeed burning bright.

"It has been cleansed, milord Rathorn," said the elder, reporting to the commanding officer.

"Most excellent, elder Hafnor," he said with a smile, idling fiddling with a holy symbol of Torm at his side.

"Beg pardon, sir Rathorn, not that I doubt Torm's Chosen's judgement, but was the complete destruction of the village necessary?"

Rathorn looked down to his symbol for a moment before looking up to the elder. "Yes. The heinous acts that were committed here must never be attempted again. Even the memories of them should be destroyed."

"Of course, sir," the monk bowed and left Rathorn.
He surveyed the smouldering rubble, rubbing his holy symbol between his fingers. They had done a good deed. Torm would be pleased. Such atrocities deserved thus punishment. No one was allowed to live if they came from such a place.

"Milord!" A voice cried out.

"Yes, lieutenant?"

"We've found someone."

"Kill him." He said without a moment's hesitation.

"B-but milord, he is but a child!"

"Old enough to remember?"

"I highly doubt it milord. He barely looks as if he has seen his first year of age."

"We could raise him in the temple, I suppose. These harsh lands breed strong warriors, and we are lacking a few guards at the gates..."

"Pardon me, milord Rathorn," said Elder Hafnor, appearing at Rathorn's side as if out of thin air. "But why not take him up into the monastery?"

"Hmm, the life of a monk is a noble pursuit. Very well, Hafnor. Because of your services on this glorious day, you may raise the child in your monastery."

The monk bowed graciously and more robed ones came in and took the child off to the building far up in the hills.



Some way up the long winding path, the one monk asked the other, "What shall we name him?"

"I was not aware we in charge of naming him?" came the reply.

The first monk shrugged, "Why not? He looks like my grandfather, Varsas"

The second monk chuckled, "Your old grandfather was a bit immature. I would say he looks more like my little sister, Misarael."

The first looked at him, "A girl you say? He is most definitely a boy"

The second shrugged, "I last saw her when I she was a baby herself, before I came here." His eyes glazed over as he remembered his past life, before he joined the monastery. Snapping back to reality: "I believe we should join the two names then. 'Misasas' ."

The second monk seemed to toy with the idea. Then said, "Hrmm, that seems more like a girl's name. Or some drow. How about...

Varael

[R3VOLV360]

Of Leaves and Learning

"Ah, Varael, I see you are up. Late night last night?"

Varael scratched his auburn hair. "Hrmphf?"

"Wake up boy, the sun is almost up!"

"I barely got to bed as stars were setting," the young Varael said, half into his pillow

"Psh, that was nothing, back in my day--"
"You had rocks for breakfast, yeah yeah." He received a very quick slap on the back of his head. "Don't disrespect me boy. Twas I who carried you up to the monastery from the ashes, remember?"

"Yes, master Tsan," he replied rubbing the back of his head and swinging himself out of bed. "Over dramatic masters," he said under his breath and in a short moment he felt another sting on the back of his head. Only to turn around and see Tsan standing in the same place by his bed. Tsan merely shrugged then said, "Why do you look at me? Hurry boy, you'll be late."

Varael grumbled a bit, "It's master Yerto I have to report to. I'd much rather be late."

Tsan chuckled, "You'll get the hang of his lessons. Don't worry."

"It's not the lessons that bother me..."



"Get me a female leaf, Varael"

"A what, master?"

"You heard me well enough, a female leaf." Master Yerto sipped his tea. This would seem like an extraordinary request alone. But when you are on a mountain without trees then it becomes somewhat even more extraodinary.

"Um, Master, there are no leaves... female or male.. for a good 30 kilometres."

"That is what your mind tells you, boy. Now you shan't leave til you have fetched me a female leaf." Setting his cup down. he stared right at Varael.

"Er, sir, I can't move my arms or legs now... how am I meant to find your leaf at all."

"Travel in your mind, boy. Outside of the boundaries of the physical."
Varael moaned some more but Yerto silenced him. "No more words, now, find me that female leaf."

Varael groaned and shut his eyes, thinking his hardest of a leaf, no, a female leaf, hoping one would materialise in front of him. Unfortunately, only the elder grandmaster is rumoured to manage that. He sighed and opened his eyes. "My mind is a barren landscape filled with flat plains and not a tree in sight, master."

The master chuckled, "I wish my mind was that clear. Look young Varael."

Varael looked around, his eyes falling on Yerto's tea cup. He sighed. "I don't suppose your tea leaf was of the female persuasion, sir?"

"Ah, took you long enough. Then again, most 8 year old's take some time on that one." He waved his hand and Varael collapsed onto the floor. "Now, learn from that that things are not what you expect. There can always be some unexpected end. Something you overlook as mundane. As a monk you must use all the natural world as your tool, "He sipped from his tea cup. "For your uncertainty as to whether my tea leaf was female or not, you shall do.. oh, ten rounds of the monastery? Sounds fair."

Varael nodded again, " Very wise, sir... very wise." He got up and started to run, "Wise bordering mad, I'd say," he muttered when he thought he was far away enough. A sharp sting greeted the back of his head. Turning around he saw Master Yerto standing by his chair, sipping his tea.

[R3VOLV360]

Damned Dams

"Faster lad, faster!!" The stick swerved past Varael's head, inches from possibly taking it off. "Ha, I nearly had you there! Come on, keep up!" Varael danced around the swinging stick almost losing his balance in most cases. "Anticipate the stick! Be where it is not. Move to where it will not strike!" The master said as he took a final hefty, yet quick, swing at Varael's legs, toppling him.

He fell lightly, but fall he did. "You have much to learn, young monk." The master reached out a hand and pulled him up. "Our lesson is done, you may go now."

"Thank you, master." Varael bowed and started heading off to the monastery gates. Boy, what a day. He inspected his bruises. Luckily for him training was over. It seemed to get more intense as you get older, but takes less time.

He decided he would wonder down to the dam. It was always nice to have a refreshing swim after such a lesson. Although he could hear people were already there. And they didn't sound like any monks he knew.

"Grab the stuff in that bag there! We must pour it into water!"

"Why do Gorbra order Forkdak what to do? Why not Gorbra lift bag?"

" 'cos Gorbra is more knowl-- knowlee-- No.. lee.. dja... bill than Forkdak. You make stupid mistakes when in charge."

Varael clung to the shadows of the dusk and hid in the longer grass, seeing what this Gorbra and Forkdak were doing. They were two half-orcs, which weren't too rare in this part of the world. Many were used for guard duty or, as it seemed now, menial labour. He tried to get a glimpse of the bag, but it seemed to be a nondescript brown bag.

"Quickly, Forkdak! The sun disappears again!" Then Forkdak poured something out of the bag into the water. Varael could only see that it was definitely not something that looked that great for eating. "Good Forkdak! Poison it well. We must get good pay from Torm Praiser!"

Varael looked on in shock. They were poisoning the river and under orders from a Tormite? This was indeed disturbing. Why would a follower of Torm want the monks water supply poisoned. He thought he should do something about this, so he sneaked closer to the one called Forkdak and shifted his weight, took careful aim, and leapt.

Unfortunately his leap was one of the more noisier leaps to date and Forkdak turned around just in time to get a foot in the chest.

"Gah! Tiny man hit Forkdak in chest!" This didn't have the desired effect Varael planned. Mostly because he was aiming for the back of the neck, but at least he had dropped the bag and stopped poisoning the dam.

"Ooh, what have we here! A tiny man comes to defend water?"

"Er.. yes, stop this foul beasts! You shall--"
"Bwahaha! Foul beast? Who does tiny man think he is?"

"Er... um.. I am of the.. order.. of... well almost of the order of... er.."

"What? I can't hear tiny man?"

"I said I am a monk! Fear my awesome skill!"

The half orcs looked at each other. Then Gorbra looked to his axe lying by his side. Varael saw this and swiftly tried to launch a kick at it. Unfortunately Gorbra got there first and threw Varael off balance. He fell to the floor and Gorbra chuckled. "You fall tiny man. Now, you interrupt holy duty of Torm." He brandished the axe and approached Varael menacingly.

"Wha- wait! Why does Torm want this dam poisoned?"

The half orc shrugged. "Torm only order it poisoned. Approach Tah- low-neh priests and give instructions." He seemed less inclined to wield the axe in this talkative mood. Varael pressed on.

"How do you know all this?"

"Me work guard duty at temple. Gorbar see much that happen."

"Oh, well. I see." Varael looked around for a rock or something he could use to distract the half orc with. Then Forkdak looked to the bag.

"Tiny man spill poison! No more poison for water!"

Gorbar, reminded of his holy duty, lifted his axe and took a few test swings in Varael's direction. Then, suddenly, out of the ground rose a mist of sorts. Varael and the half orcs looked on, shocked, at this apparition. It seemed to be some sort of very thin man, but no recognizable features that Varael could make out from, what he figured, was the back.

"Leave this place, Forkdak and Gorbar. The hand of Kelemvor protects it and you shall depart here at once," came a harsh, yet wispy voice.

"Tiny man have smoky friend with big names to use and frighten us! Smoky man not scary! Raargh!" He swung his axe at the wisp of a man and the smoky apparition merely parted around it.

"Do not do that again, just leave." It said. But Gorbar took no heed and swung wildly at it only to find, when he struck it, his blade shattered into thousands of tiny fragments. A few which landed into Gorbar himself. After some more wild swings of the handle, Gorbar fell.

Forkdak just stood there, mouth agape. "Leave now, Forkdak. Take Gorbar with you and never return to this place."

Forkdak stood there for another few moments but finally hoisted Gorbar over his large shoulder and hobbled off into the distance. The figure turned to Varael. "What... are you?"

"An extension, young Varael."

Varael blinked, "Extension of?"

"Now is not the time. Just remember now was not your time, either. Now go back to the monastery. Your time shall come."

"My time for what? Why did you save me? What about the dam?"

"Now is not your time. It was deemed so. Kelemvor's hand has protected this place. Now go back to the monastery. Your time shall come, as everyone else's" It replied in that same wispy voice. No mouth seen moving, no eyes to be seen seeing.

Varael looked at this.. extension. After a moment he bolted off to the monastery, not daring to look behind.