Chronicles of Time
A Masked Elf, donning dark leathery robes, with a leatherbound bow and nasty serrated arrows clutched in his hand.
Status: DM Approved. Still Alive.
Hailing from the lands of Faragon, this hardened ranger, one of the guardians of the city of Treehaven, sought only freedom and independance from the dracocracy of the Dragon King, standing passively in defiance of the order known as the Drakes, who provided a bit of psuedo-protection over the lands for the right to claim ownership over anything they spied. The lands were wild in this day, and many of the nations banded together, both skin and scale.
“The drow stay pretty much in their holes, and I don’‘t honestly believe it’s out of fear… I believe wisdom guides them. In perilous times like these, it’s probably wise to stay underground and out of sight with such winged predators flying in the chaos-soaked plains above.”
Treehaven also had to act as a buffer against a large expanse of lands known for Lycanthropic forms in the east called the ‘Grey Pack’. Many excursions back and forth in the lands continued the visage of a ‘cold’ war.
One day, it was learned that thirteen such beasts would journey from the lands of the Pack and attack upon outlying farms and settlements outside Treehaven, but…
“It… it was too smart, too well strategized. We waited at our ambush spot, I, Fyraizel, Gaenrien, the lovely Shariah, the boy warrior Lyrnail… Others, some no more than avid adventurers waiting to coat their blades for the first time, like a ravager upon a virgin’s sacrifice. But, it was not to be… They outsmarted us, flanked around, and… attacked our city. We rushed back to meet them in battle, but, the dozen or so beasts that we thought we had secured, instead, were multiplied three or even fourfold. It was a massacre. Elvin blood coated the ground, puddles of a storm of life’s essence, downpouring around us… I looked for the leader, and the leader made himself known… I raised my bow as he launched forth… and then time stood still…”
It was at this time that Nisain was approached by the force known as the Mystery, and offered a chance to gain revenge… as he looked over the fallen, even at the one who he had hoped to be one with, Shariah, he sought more than the two years bartered…
“I propose a counter offer… if you can do this, you are of great power indeed. Spare the lives of all around me, and rather than two years, an elf’s total life will be in your servitude…”
Mystery seemed intrigued, but calmly told Nisain that changing time would complicate things… and that all he could offer was blood for blood, revenge, and a boon that Nisain would enjoy. Nisain agreed.
Day I “An elf never regrets, he simply allows nature to guide him across the waters he chose to sail upon, no matter the rapids. An elf is above regret, above mistakes. Whatever he has done, was already destined for him to do, already fated that he would go on that trail in the forst of decision. However, as I stood amidst such a motley of different creatures, from the armored to the beastial, from the serene to the flamboyant, I began to wonder if my bargainer was mad… or saw something in my so-called allies that I did not see… The druid at least seemed worthy enough, knew her way around a branch or two. The hunter of our party looked capable enough, but others, I worried of. For instance, I know my hatred of the lycanthropes now, I know it true, and find myself puzzled by the walking cat before me. Is he too a lycanthrope? If so, then why does he not attack, give me a reason to pierce his heart… And the Gnome… Oh my GODS! the gnome… If any create was an afront to nature, it would have been he. The brightest rainbow in the sky pales in comparison to the assemblance of his wardrobe. A weak man could grow sick of the flashy clothes, contrasted against the greens all around us.”
“We sujourned with the Druid in a forest of Druidic lore, searching for some potion of Life’s blood. I know my path well, and have confessed it to the druid. I don’t think she believes me, but she doesn’t need to, in fact, the more untrusting of others that she is, the better off her goal is. I will not pervert Mystery’s commands, she will be the only to possess the potion, or I will die in flurry of arrows before she is overcome by envious or jealous men. We traversed a great distance, far ahead of time, in my beliefs for the seventy two hours we were given, and still, I fear that the worse is yet to come, for we hvae those seventy two hours to get in and out of this forest, and we camp now to tend to wear feet. My hawk Thravak has feasted well, both on some honeybread, some panther entrails, and of course, in my honeyed waterskin. Honey sweetens all things in my opinion, even wounds. But, as I dive headlong into the trance of reverie, I wonder if it could cure my wound of mourning for my brothers and sisters, or must I bear that scar like the ones upon my brow for eternity.”
“I know wonder if I have made a deal with the devil. I watched in horror as my arrow pierced the gnomes tiny head, giving him final sleep, ending his suffering at the so called servant of time. I tried all that I feel I could save for slaying the would-be killers myself, trying to save the poor soul, but it was not enough. Evidently, the gnomes’ current actions were but the tip of some unseen, unknown iceberg from before my entrance into this foray of the surreal, but… still… he was unable to fight, unable to defend against himself, and like a filithy animal, a cultist appeasing some dark god, they sacrificed him to the lotus blossoms. To top it off, the druid, who I’ve grown someone protective all, above and beyond my edict, was hurt slightly in the murderous display, and I am afraid that before this jaunt is over, my arrows will have to taste blood once more, to save her, and… in essense… to save myself.”
“I had another dream tonight, that lycranthrope’s claws, still stained with the blood of my people, those jawels, that bloos-soaked fur. I remember pushing against the boundaries of time itsel,f my arrows twisting and bending against some unknown force, but in a final stroke, I plunged the entire quiverful of arrows deep into the beasts heart, and he fell, but as he fell, and as I looked down uon his form as the fur and fang melted away, I saw… myself… dead and laying upon the ground. I guess it is true that the longer someone abstains from slaying the demons and beasts in their life, the easier it is to become one of them…”