The Bottom

[Lollercide]

Churning and twisting against the floor, Hano opens his eyes trying to find the source of the incoherent words being spoken. Desperately peering around the room in hope of some clue to why he was here and no.. Not where he was supposed to be. Unable to make out the man's words Hano turns his head in frustration.. "Samantha..?"

That's it! He wasn't supposed to be here.. He was escorting Samantha from the Grove. Raising his head immediately he barks, "Where is she? Wh -" He pauses feeling a great unease.. He was missing something. Something that should not have been.. Something that has become as good as one of his own very limbs.

"Where is it!? Where is my..!?" Hano stands to his feet reaching over his right shoulder only to be met by the empty end of his sheath.. "No... No... That bitch" Hano falls against the pillar behind him muttering curses under his breath. He is approached by the man who he could only think had brought him to the Temple.. Hano looks up to the man, slowly piecing together his identity. Hano attempts to reach out toward the man, barely able to speak, "...O-Osclow? Where is it?! What happened!? Where is Samantha!?" he slowly trails off mumbling to himself. "Balthasar.. The Triumvirate.. My sword.."

Hano slides down the pillar sitting against the cold floor of the Temple looking up to Osclow for answers.

[Slanke]

Above the entrance to the Necropolis crypt a dark female figure stands.
Her wicked smile grows as she looks the zombies walking beneth her. In her hands she holds a Tome. On its cover it says "Necronomicon", she flips the pages made of elven skin and starts to memorize a freshly copyed spell.
"The Paladin fell so easy" she thinks. "I barely touched him". And the shapeshifter that followed me, never seen anyone flee that fast". she laughs a hidious laugh.
A few words is heard and she suddently is by the gates. "Now.. Lets find the one that stole my dagger and shield"

[Silas North]

A miracle. It was nothing short of that which brought the knight back from a brink beyond anything the minstrel had seen before. His wounds were deep indeed, deep enough to leave rather wicked scars, particularly along his back. The truly impressive feat however was how long the knight had managed to cling to that small speck of life. This had to have been one of the strengths those choosen to serve by faith and sword possessed. That was the only explanation the mistrel could picture.

A message. The knight was more than close enough to death to be considered by most as being truly lost. The minstrel was not certain what possessed him to try to consort with the Helmites. In the eyes of someone not trained in the ways of healing and medicine, the knight should have appeared espcially lost. It was not the knight's time. His tale was not over. So close to the brink was he however than the bard could only wonder if his discovery of the knight's fallen form in an obviously planted location was meant to scare, or to be an act of mercy. Did those responsible believe the knight to be gone, or were they hoping that he would live and be consumed by fear, as well as those that worked with him?

An answer. It was the one thing the minstrel wished to give the knight when he awoke, yet could not. The knight was a good friend to him, and he wished for nothing more than to find the ones responsible and drive a blade through their heart. At least he had a sword to call his own. The weapon the paladin treasured for so long was missing, and all the minstrel could do was to tell him that he was sorry. He knew not of what happened but was able to surmise what was obvious. Samantha escaped through the aid of another. Recalling a discussion about a particular individual, there were a few few the minstrel believed possibly responsible for this heinous act. He spoke not of it however, more concerned with the knight's well being at the time. He was relieved. Greatly relieved to see him alive. The tale of light had not yet come to a close.

[Lollercide]

OOC: This is a chat log converted to an RP post - Tried to be as accurate as possible with it.

Taking Osclow's hand Hano is escorted to the back of the Temple for rest. The walk was dreadfully long.. So far to go with no answers to what happened or why. The questions kept racing through Hano's head until he found relief against the cushioned bed in the Temple's resting room for their wounded. Sinking into the bed and losing himself in thought, gazing endlessly into the ceiling.

Osclow looks to Hano speaking a few words that are tuned out for a moment before catching Hano's attention.

"...Someone wished for you to live. Either that, or they did not assume you would survive and thought your body would make for a nice message."

Hano rubs his forehead muttering, "Message..?" - Osclow quickly responds with, "What do you recall? Can you recall a spell, an amubush.. Anything?" Hano raises himself on the bed, rubbing his temple. "...No. I only remember escorting Samantha from the Grove."

Osclow takes brief note of Hano's words and states, "Based on your wounds it is obvious you were struck from behind and not with a spell I wager."

"...Behind?" Hano catches a brief glimpse of what had happened. "No.. I was escorting Samantha with her in my front."

Osclow shifts his weight looking down to the wounded knight. "Sir Hano... Samantha has allies... sympathize -" Hano interrupts sternly, "No. She serves no one and has no loyalties to anyone. Not even to a God. She only uses people as tools to benefit her cause.."

Hano ponders a moment eyes following the odd lines across the floor. "Perhaps a hired assassin?" Osclow nods seeming to have come to that conclusion far earlier, "Someone like that would not be cheap.. The attacks were swift and accurate. This was the work of someone highly skilled at what he does."

Hano seems to trail off unable to think of likely suspects. "..What now? Even if I get rest and even if I'm at full strength... What now?" Osclow places his hand on Hano's shoulder. "We press on.. Simple as that.."

"Press on? I've nothing to press on with anymore. My Temple is being defaced and destroyed from the inside.. I've not only failed Torm, but lost the single most important possession of mine... I can't even imagine where to begin picking up the pieces." Osclow reassures Hano, "Then make learning where to start your objective... For now at least. If you give up, what do you think will befall this land?"

Hano stands to his feet, "You're right.. That witch has faith in her skills. She think she can take my blade - Blessed by Torm? Without consequence!?" His eyes flare in a bit of rage clutching his fist. "That will be her undoing - I'll have every mage in Sundren scry for it and her."

Osclow sighs, with a touch of relief. He reaches to his side, hand sliding into his pouch. "Sir Hano.. Those that walk the path of shadow will be desperate to take advantage over what hold they have gained. For they themselves are upon desperate times.. They shall be like a cornered fox." Osclow palms something from his pouch bringing it before Hano. "And that is when a fox is most dangerous. I want you to have something."

Osclow reveals to Hano a small red gem. "It does not look like much maybe a simple red gem with little to no value.. However it means something to me and I believe it has always brought me luck. It was a gift from my daughter."

Hano nods politely accepting the gem.. Clutching it in his fist he feels great inspiration. "Then this stone will bear all the oaths we have made.. The promises and will of all of us." Hano turns toward Osclow smiling, "There is much to be done."

[Lollercide]

Later that night...

Tossing and turning, Hano is unable to find rest in the Helm's bunker. Waking from his sleep after maybe an hour of rest drenched in sweat - He cries out to the shadows of the Temple. Trying to catch his breath in the humid night.. The voices still beckoned at him.

Two... No three different voices, all speaking different messages.

"Danger.. No more public displays.. Veritas... Sundren in danger... War."

Another voice pushes in to intervene, "Hahaha.. I will eat your soul..." Hano grabs his forehead trying to force them out in terrible pain. "War?"

He is answered only by the all familiar voice of Samantha. "Mhh, I miss ye dear. When will we be together?"

The voices were relentless.. They denied Hano of rest and privacy, even in the security of the Temple's bunkers.

"Ilmater.. How long must I endure this?"

[Silas North]

(1 year ago)

"Auntie Esmee, auntie Esmee!! C'mon. The water's fine." the little girl, blonde hair and eyes of shining silver, called out once again. It seemed that two refusals already were not enough to put to rest her determination to be joined in the gentle river waters that rose up to her knees.

"I don't doubt that Tia." said a woman 24 years of age, with eyes a similar color to the little girls, only of a darker shade. Her hair was the gentle light brow color of a grain field in the middle of fall and hung down past her shoulders, drapped over a robe of dark green with grey trim. In her hands she held a book detailing several arcane priniciples regarding the art of transmutation magicks.

"Well then what's keeping you?" Tia shot back at her with a wry smirk upon her face. "I'm reading Tia. You of all people should know what this looks like." The emphasis was given an equal dose of sarcasm to the little girl's words in retaliation. Indeed Tia loved books, though she perfered those that told actual stories rather than boring and innane calculations. "Come on Tia. The sun is starting to go down. We should start heading home." A pout colored Tia's features, a light quivering of her lip given for good measure. Such tricks may have easily won over the heart of her foster father and many people within the town of Navil, but Esmee was the one person whom would not be fooled. The wizard's eyes narrowed and her lip curled to a wicked smile "Don't even try it. Who do you think taught you how to munipulate others with that look?" "I thought you used your breasts for that." the little girl said back, a playful tone and look that suggested a clear bit of innocence and lack of understanding to her own words, despite the deep red blush that took the wizard's features.
"Who the hell told you that?!"
"Fenton."
The wizard grumbled. "Damn that pervert. Tia, no more hanging around Osclow's friend. 7 year old girls should not be saying such things." Tia sighed "I guess it does not matter, since Fenton and daddy will be leaving tomorrow." The wizard's features softened to the word 'daddy'. It was still somewhat strange to her how quickly and easily Tia came to call her foster father by that title. Then again, ever since Tia learned how to walk, Osclow was much closer to a father than the one who actually helped bring her into this world. Esmee cast that way of thinking aside. As truthful as it was, it was difficult to think negative thoughts of Tia's real father. Once more, the wizard called out.

Finally surrendering to the Esmee's wishes, the little girl sighed once more, loudly this time to make her dissatisfaction very clear. Her eyes cast downward, widening to a peculiar sight. There was something among the wet, grey sand that stood out. Whatever it was, it was red and shiny. Tia's over-active imagination quickly pictured a beast with scales of sand and what she was actually staring at to be a giant's eye. She froze, but only for a second, leaning closer as curiousity almost immediately took the place of fear. "Tia?" Esmee's impatient call fell upon deaf ears. Much as did when reading an interesting book, Tia locked her immediate focus upon the red stone, shutting out all distractions around her. Her slender fingers clawed forward into the sand, pulling the stone free. It was just big enough to cover most of her small palm and held a smooth oval shape. "Aunty?!" she called out, finally allowing the distractions of the world to once again be of interest to her.

A bright smile came over Tia's face as Esmee walked up beside the river, her gaze quickly turning to the stone. "Isn't it pretty? I found it in the sand." Esmee leaned forward reaching out to take it "No!" Tia cried out, clentching her fingers around it and pulling her hands back. "What?!" the wizard asked, somewhat offeneded by the little girl's actions. "I know you." Tia's words came sharp with sarcasm once again "You'll want to experiment on it and stuff and I'll never get to see it again." Esmee grumbled. "I just wanted to see it." Odd the color was, but there was not a hint of magical aura within the child's newfound treasure and as far as Esmee could guess nothing particularly out of the ordinary about the stone either, except its strange color. Most likely the stone was a product of the fire elementals whose intense heat warmed the waters of these rivers. But the elementals were miles from here. Discovering such a stone in Neverwinter itself may not have been so odd, but all the way here, where the powerful heat of the fire entities was just beginning to fade, was somewhat extraordinary. The odds of such a stone making it this far had to be nonexistant, or so she would have thought if not for the fact she was staring at it a few moments ago.

"Fine, keep it." Esmee said with a shrug and smirk "But, we still need to head back." The child opened up her hands once more to observe her treasure with a smile. "Do you think daddy will like it? I think I might give it to him before he leaves tomorrow." The wizard's features softened as she was quickly taken by the child's sweet words. "I think he would love it."

[Lollercide]

Leaning over the edge of his bed the voices seemed to have stopped. Beads of sweat rolled down his face and chest, bending around the scars and curves on his body. He recalls the first time he came to Sundren... How green he used to be. Not a single scar or mark on his body. He sighs trying to forget how the times have changed him.

Hano casts his glance around the room, eyes fixating on the armor placed in the corner of the room alongside his other belongings. The knight was covered by nothing more than decently tailored linen shorts for his loins. His figure was barely exposed in the dark room of the temple.

"My sword.." He could feel the emptiness in the corner. The sword that should belong there that is absent. He morned for it, so much as he could imagine it leaning against his suit of armor gleaming back at him with the feint moonlight that peeks through the barracks' window.

Hano stands to his feet, undoing his hair and reforming it back into the tight ponytail he likes to keep. Stepping over to his suit of armor he reaches inside of it.. Where within was a small pouch pinned to the inside of it. Concealed away from anyone that did not know to look for it - He made sure of it's hidden presence. Pulling from the pouch the small red gem Osclow had gave him he returns to his bedside gazing into it.

It gave him comfort.. Confidence. His inspiration grew by merely holding it and remembering Osclow's faith in him. Hano spends the rest of the night lost in the gem thinking of what must be done in the morning.