Vengeance

[Peridan]

A soft breeze made its way around the top of the grassy hill. It swirled around the grass, letting the verdant tips lean this way and that way. The wind moved to the top of the hill, around a figure dressed in a comfortable and obviously homespun tunic. It surrounded the figure, his sword strapped to his back twinkling at the breeze and messing up his honey brown hair on his pointed ears.

The figure wore a faded eye patch and held an amulet in his hands, glittering in the sun that lay far above. It was silver, and had small runes scratched around the edges of it. The chain it dangled from was made of fine chain, but was probably able to withstand almost anything.

The figures attention was focused on a small tombstone on the top of the hill, with a name scrawled in elvish on it. Beneath the name, it said "Action belies belief." Fingering the chain, the elf begins to speak.

"You bastard. You were a freaking asshole in life, and in death you piss me off even more. You were sarcastic, rude, and for the most part a despicable human being."

He closed his one radiant gold eye for a moment, then opened it.

"You betrayed my trust, you fought for the worst kind of evil. You lied to me and all of our friends, and for that I will not forgive you."

His fist tightened around the chain, his white knuckles straining against the skin.

"But by Corellon, you were my friend. You saved my life more times than I can count, and I saved yours the same. We fought together, we drank together, and we laughed together. I cannot believe that was a lie, or faked. And for you to do what you did..."

He sighed, his usually ageless face showing lines.

"...What you did was right in the end. And I will take the worst possible vengeance on these of your coven. I will hunt them down, I will find out who they are and what they are capable of, and I."

His eye glowed in anger, his sword changing from a twinkling sound to a low hum.

"I will kill them all." He stated flatly. "No warning, no preparations. I will find out where to hit, and I will strike with all of my power, all of my strength!" His voice grows louder. "I will make them rue the day they were ever born, ever stepping on a path that tortured innocents and punished good souls like the one that I know you had!" His blades humming grows louder as well.

"I will punish the wicked, and I will make them take responsibility for killing my best friend." His anger died, and now he only looked old. His blade falls silent.

"And I will deliver this to whom it was intended. My only regret is not knowing who to give it to." He smiled ruefully. "And maybe then you will find peace, old friend."

He carefully placed the amulet in his pack and turned away. The wind was growing stronger and the sky was darkening. The storm was coming.

[Peridan]

A tired looking elf trudged his way up an old hill. Peridan paused, looking back at the view the hill provided, that of the valley and Sundren city in all of it's flawed glory. The wind carelessly ruffled his tunic, flapping in the breeze as he turned to the gravestone at the top. He kneeled by the stone, carefully removing the weeds and the tall grass that had covered the words written. He placed a callused hand on top of the rock, a hint of a smile crossing his face.

"Hey pal. It's been a while. I came to talk, since we haven't spoken in ages." He grunted as he took a seat next to the stone, lighting a cigar from his tunic pocket while looking out. A small blue flame flickered from his index finger, igniting the cheap cigar rolled and sold by a pot-bellied little man from Waterdeep.

"So yeah. Things have gotten better, and worse since you were around. Your old buddies have taken hits, but they just keep on coming back. Like freaking flies."

He puffed a cloud of cigar smoke, letting it vanish into the windy afternoon.

"Joined the Legion, made officer of all things. Yeah, I know, right? What's a bum smith like me with stars in his eyes at a time doing in the army." He said this last as a statement, not really questioning the stone. "I was just a kid. I wanted to be the best smith in the world, but what does that really mean? So what? While I toil away making weapons, there are people being abused and killed by them. Ain't I just helping?"

He shook his head, his golden eye flecked with red staring out to the distance.

"Anyway, a whole bag of shit has come and gone, and then come again. I wonder why this valley has such terrors locked away in it, y'know? Other places may have wars or something, but we have demons and dead gods roaming around this damn valley. And it's up to us regular people to do something about it. You ever wonder about that?

These things happen, and you have to wonder what the world would be like if they didn't. What would we do? Start families, grow old in our beds? Farm? Smith? I can't even imagine a world without these horrors that stalk us when we sleep."

"Is that a good thing?"

Peridan paused, flicking off some ash from his neglected cigar. "I'm sorry pal. I'm sorry you were such a bastard, and I'm sorry I was as well. I'm sorry that you were a good person in the end, and that I'm trying my hardest to live up to it. That we lived in a world of gods and demons, and that we couldn't just have a few drinks after a hard day's work while each of our families talked and laughed and played together."

Something that may have been a drop of water splashed on the green earth.

"I'm sorry you had to die. I'm sorry that I let you die, Al."

A tired elf walked down the hill, back to the city that he so loved and hated.