MysidiaDrakkenbane

Feja sat in her kitchen looking at a few items laid out before her, on her table. In her furry fingers, she held a very small but delicate ring. The ring itself, was beautiful. It was intricately woven into a rather unusual but eternal pattern. There was no end or beginning. On the thicker part of the band was in the inscription "Bound by eternity."

It had been several days since the woman had awakened and Feja learned her name to be Mysidia. Feja was sure the ring was hers. It was small enough to fit her wood elven fingers and delicate enough to be made by the elves. She deducted that it was her wedding band.

Mysidia had been asking questions. Far too many for Feja to really answer. She didn't want to frighten Mysidia with the news. Fact was, Mysidia had been asleep for a very, very long time. How do you tell someone to pick up the pieces of a life that is long gone? How do you break it to someone expecting to return to a life that isn't there, anymore?

Feja looked at her own wedding band and touched it with her finger. She couldn't imagine what she would have been like if it was her in Mysidia's situation. Feja decided that she should tell her. Closing her eyes, she got up from the table and carried Mysidia's things in her arms.

Mysidia sat out on the balcony with her eyes closed and her hands resting gently on her knees. It was early in the morning, just about the time that the Hovel was waking. It was quiet and a good time to meditate. Mysidia began to calm her mind and push it outward just as her training had taught her. She searched for that feral energy she always felt, in nature. She tried to become "attune" with it, once again, but found it to be resistant. Her eyebrow furled and she grew confused.

Nature had never behaved that way before. Something was…different, amiss. She closed her eyes, trying it again. She thought it was just her being in the coma for too long and she was just out of practice. She took in a soothing breath and let it out slowly, allowing the sun to warm her face. She pushed her mind outward again, finding that stable naturalistic energy, the green beacon within nature itself. …Nothing. Not even a shred of calm.

"You're meditating again. That's always a good sign…", Feja said walking towards the balcony. Mysidia got up and wiped her hands on her pants. She smiled trying to hide her confusion. She was going to have to work harder at this than she thought…

Maya came trouncing in after her mother with that carefree bounce children always have. Mysidia looked down at her and gave her a warm smile. The young Kerran looked back and smiled in return. Mysidia noticed the two small gold hoops adorning the child's ears.

"Well, don't these look pretty!", Mysidia exclaimed.

"Thank you. I turned 8 the other day and Momma said it was time for my first piercings.", she said proud.

"They're lovely.", Mysidia said and smiled. She looked over at Feja and saw the bundle she carried in her hands. "What's that?", she asked.

"These were with you when you were found…", Feja started to say. Mysidia's eyes lit up when she saw her epic scimitar peaking out of the cloth it was wrapped in. She carefully unwrapped it on the bed and ran her hand gently down the blade.

"Wow! What's that??", Maya asked.

"This is the Druid Epic sword.", Mysidia said proudly. She remembered the day she received her status symbol. She proudly held it to the sky and the guild she was with, triumphantly cheered with her. It was a long time waiting and she had worked very hard to get it.

Over the years, it had grew somewhat rusty and held the smudges of neglect along the blade. Mysidia wrinkled her nose a bit seeing it in this state. She carefully picked up and held it in her hand and closed her eyes, trying to focus her will in casting the effect the blade had.

She opened her eyes to see the blade sitting stone cold in her hand. No leaves of magic swirled around her. There was no green aura around the blade. It was as if the magic was gone. She looked up at Feja with such confusion and a worry. Before Mysidia could ask, Feja handed over the ring.

Mysidia froze. She looked at the ring gleaming in the sunlight and tears began to form in her eyes. A thick lump clenched the back of her throat and she found it difficult to swallow.

"I thought I had lost it…", the words fell out of her mouth. She placed the sword to the side and grabbed the ring to hold it in both hands.

"Your wedding band?", Feja asked.

Mysidia only nodded, feeling the tear fall off her cheek. She placed the ring on her left hand and held it out for her to see.

Maya was making sounds off to the side and the daze that Mysidia was in was broken and she looked at Maya playing with her sword.

"Maya, put that down! You'll hurt yourself!", Feja yelled.

Mysidia stared at the dull blade and then at her ring. She felt heaviness in her heart. Her blood ran cold. She began to place all the pieces together and panic began to creep into her mind. All of it, the lack of meditation, the lack of magic from her weapon, the subtleness in which Feja had been dodging her questions… She slowly looked over at Feja and began to read the message in her eyes.

"Feja, how long was I asleep?", Mysidia finally asked.

Feja sighed and sat down on the bed, patting a seat next to her. Mysidia slowly sat down and Feja began to fill Mysidia in on the 500 years she lost.





Pergy was a rather sassy wood elf. She found her living, after Refugee Island, working as a barmaid in the local pub in Graystone Yard. The racial tension between dwarves and elves had lessened since Luclin's destruction. Sweating the small things just wasn't important anymore and either race began to lose the reason why they didn't really like one another to begin with. And besides, the dwarves got along with Pergy. As long as she kept slipping them free beers here and there, she could stay.

Being a barmaid wasn't the life she really wanted for herself. She always pictured herself to be an adventurer seeing the distant lands that the patrons used to boast about. But the pay was good and she had rent to pay and her own mouth to feed. Adventuring was fun, but it rarely paid the bills. That was her mother talking. Practicality had to take precedence now. Norrath was a different place and different times called for different strategies.

And it was usually the same scene every night. The dwarves used to boast to the barbarians and vice versa. Usually a fight or two broke out, but nothing serious. They were usually too drunk at this point, to do any real damage. They couldn't even see straight, let alone, swing with a proper aim. But whatever the patrons destroyed, the always ended up paying for it. It was men being men, after all.

It was usually around the hours right after sun set that a rather quiet barbarian walked in. Pergy knew him. He always did the same thing, night after night. He'd drink himself into oblivion playing with the ring he always wore. It tore at her, really. No matter how much she had talked to him, she couldn't get him to shake this "ghost."

In their talkings, she had learned a great many things about the barbarian. She learned that he was older than anyone in that bar. And it was because he was placed with a special task. He was to protect a special child of Tunare and because of that, he was given longer life than a barbarian was normally given. It was his wife, from what Pergy gathered.

She picked up her tankards and walked over to his table in the corner. She put one tankard in front of him and sat down opposite of him.

"Sitting in the corner today, Mach? Trying something different for a change?", Pergy said and began to take a swig from the mug.

"You don't drink on the job, Pergy.", the man said and took two huge gulps from the tankard.

"Change is good.", Pergy said and let the topic drop. She watched him twirl the ring on his finger.

"She must have been a hell of a woman.", Pergy said and took another drink, not keeping her eyes off the ring.

"She was..", he said softly. He was larger than most barbarian men, but certainly not the largest Pergy had seen. His face was covered in woad of a dragon. His green eyes were somber as he eyed the ring. As he took another long swig from his tankard, the adornments of his goatee clanged against the mug. He was rather handsome for a barbarian. With the few times she saw him smile, she could tell that he could have been a very light hearted companion. But the demons and ghosts of his past kept him in a thick cloud. He ran his hand over his bald head, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze.

"You worship Tunare, yes?", he asked. She nodded. "Why does She keep me under Her torturous thumb?"

"Tunare doesn't work that way. She's not evil in any sense nor does She find joy in others pain. You made a promise to Her, right?", Pergy asked. He nodded. "Then She still has purpose for you. If your promise to Her was fulfilled to Her satisfaction, She would have released Her blessing on you and allowed you to pass on."

She watched him struggle and shift in his seat. "Instead of pissing your life away in a tankard, every night, trying to undo Her gift..", she said lifting his chin, "Why don't you find out the reason WHY She is keeping you alive…"

He took another swig from his tankard and nodded slowly, acknowledging her comments. She was right, after all. If Tunare did have another purpose for the barbarian, She would keep him alive until She was done with him. But why him? He didn't even worship Her!

"Ok, so the change might be too big, I understand. We'll start small.", Pergy said and snapped her fingers. She pointed to the table and a young boy brought two more tankards. She pushed one tankard towards him and kept the other to herself.

"Instead of wallowing in depression over ghosts, Mach… Tell me of the days of Mighty Halas. This round is on me."

His green eyes lit up and a wide grin spread over his face. And he began to tell his adventures that he and his wife met before the cataclysms tore the land apart.

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