MysidiaDrakkenbane

Some of you PMed me to continue this thread. Thank you for those who have taken the time to read. I have continued this thread over on the EQII forums. This was merely a place where I could "back up" my story in case they lost it on the new EQII Forums transfer. As a request, I've posted the new chapters here. Enjoy.


Everfrost was a different world in the early morning hours. Usually, the snows from the night before have filled in the divots and impressions left by the animals and humanoids that walked through the pristine whiteness. Now the freshly fallen flakes have cleaned the man made impurities, smoothing it out in a virginal blanket.

Hues of pink and purple began to paint their way onto the canvas sky as the sun started to do its traditional daily climb to the horizon line. Mysidia sat atop an icy ledge, looking down at her group mate's camp. She was in wolf form and the winds that shaped the jagged snowdrift dunes, blew powder flakes onto her muzzle that spotted into fuzzy slushy dew.

Mysidia was restless. The various sounds during the night kept her awake and instead of trying to fight for sleep, she merely took the job as night watch to ensure her camp's safety. Machene knew that Mysidia wouldn't sleep well. As much as her heart belongs in the outside open air, new places always made Mysidia edgy. She lived a life of constantly having to look over her shoulder. She never knew if there was an Iksar around the corner, ready to capture her at moment's notice. Old habits truly do die hard.

Bearsoul had led them all towards his hut in the mountains, where he said it would be safer than down in the valley. Barring the fact that the Barbarians in the camp get rather rowdy after hours of drinking down stale swill, ice goblins and wolves had a tendency to snatch an opportunity where it would present itself and drunken slumbered men were always such an opportunity.

No matter how much Bearsoul assured their safety, Mysidia was always up at the sound of every yip or crackle. Even the snaps from the firewood made her jump. Between living in slave pens and ceremonial Iksars, sleeping sound was a constant battle with her.

Machene rolled over and felt the furs next to him. He popped open an eye when he felt the cool temperature. He realized that Mysidia was up and had left some time ago. In peering outside of his tent, he scanned over several trails of muddy paw prints outlining the camp. She had been up for more than just a few hours.

Machene pulled on his fur cloak and boots and headed out into the frigid morning air. Wisps of breath rolled off his mouth as he gave a solid look around. From the looks of things, Mysidia had patrolled and paced most of the night. Over next to the fire, a freshly slain and cleaned elk rested, ready for cooking. Machene wasn't quite sure if it was Bearsoul who had caught such a large beast or if Mysidia had done it herself.

No sooner had the thought struck him that Bearsoul came yawning out of his hut. He gave a large stretch and scratched at his head through muffled gray hair. Machene noticed he only had on long johns and no shoes. He shivered just looking at him. Bearsoul noticed Machene and laughed.

"Antonica life has soften ye, boy.", Bearsoul said and continued to laugh.

Kryimsson stumbled out of his tent, obviously still inebriated from the previous night's activities. He peered at the elk that rested near his tent and grunted with a sloppy grin on his face.

Mysidia quietly padded her way down the ledge and towards the camp when she recognized several of them awake. She kept her distance until she was able to morph back into her usual form.

"Morning.", Machene said smiling at her.

"Morning.", she mumbled back. She did little to hide the exhaustion on her face. Machene knew that she'd sleep better when they were back on Raevenwolf's ship.

"You had an early start.", Machene began to say "Any luck in finding their trail?"

"It snowed during the night, so there is little as far as a footpath or trail I could follow. And not knowing their scent, I couldn't track anything. When we've had a decent meal, we can start heading out towards Permafrost and see if we can pick up anything along the way. Kaglaaz did say that it had been a few days since they were last seen.", Mysidia said.

"Was the elk your doing?", Machene said looking over at the kill.

Mysidia nodded. "It is an offering to Bearsoul for allowing us to stay at his camp."

"An' a fine offering it be, great lady. That'll last me a good month out here and the furs will fetch me a decent price at the harbor.", Bearsoul said smiling broadly. "I'll get to cuttin' it down now. Kryimsson, help me drag this."

Machene walked over to Mysidia and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Mysidia sighed, the circles under her eyes confirming her exhaustion. "Yes. I'll be fine. We had better pack some extra rations with us if we're heading into the mountains. Some of those drifts are really quite deep and we'll be burning off more energy than we should be, out here."

Machene nodded. It was going to take them a good day's ride to get out to the Permafrost gates, and that was if the weather was agreeable.

"So...who's up for an Elk steak and eggs?", Bearsoul said holding up a thick slab of freshly skinned and sliced meat. A wide grin spread across all of their faces and they began to walk towards Bearsoul's hut.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Salty ice slosh wavered against the frozen wooden harbor. Seals and snowgulls dotted the oceanic scene as a large dark wooden ship made its way silently into the Everfrost Docks. The ocean was calmer today and barely rustled up a hiss from splashing waves. There was just something oddly eerie and calm about the weather around them. Not that this was unheard of, but it never took the "off" feeling away from it all, either.

Several of the shipmates had started to tack down and unload their cargo. Several of them had their proper documents in hand and a few of the Harbor Masters were giving a scrutinous eye since they had noticed the seal from Freeport had adorned the bow of the ship.

Akahsha, using her sneaking abilities, quietly moved passed the guards and towards the small boat that would carry her to the Barbarian camp across the way. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, Mysidia was constantly two steps ahead of her. She didn't like that. She wasn't used to that. Akahsha proudly carried the title of Mistress of the Blade among her "collegues". Getting that title meant you were there waiting for the prey, not chasing after it.

She quietly placed her pack into the boat when a voice from the distance shouted towards her.

"You! You there!", a man's voice said in the distance.

Akahsha looked up and watched the man approach her with a swift step. She grumbled under her breath and withdrew her dagger that was hidden amongst the many layers she wore.

"Ugh. Too many variables.", she muttered to herself. She knew that a skirmish here would draw attention, so using her daggers was an extreme last resort. She was going to have to use some of that charm and flair she remembered hearing her mother used to have.

"You! That boat is not for the taking. You will have to rent it like everyone else!", the man said in a haughty tone. The moment he got to her, he folded his arms in a self righteous manner.

It took her great restraint to not just roll her eyes and stab him right there, but she could hear her mother's voice scream at her over and over "DIPLOMACY!" She kept her ire and merely batted her silver colored eyes.

"Oh, many pardons, sir. And where abouts would I give my deposit?", she asked in a naïve tone.

The man seemed to loosen his stance some when he realized that she wasn't going to be any trouble.

"That would be me, miss. I own this boat, here.", he said "It'll be 10 gold. Five each way."

She began to clench her jaw. Oh how she LOATHED being civil to someone who was subservient to her. When she was done with her mission, she thought she would make a point to come back here and force Mr. Boat Watchman into slavery. The thought of having him on his knees in front of her made her insides grin wickedly.

With a slight of hand, she withdrew her purse and sprinkled a topical poison on one of the coins. She wasn't going to get the money back, but that doesn't mean he should be alive to enjoy it, either.

And as she sailed quietly on the boat, she couldn't help but choke a giggle as she heard the human begin to gargle for his last few breaths. She paid a pretty penny for that poison and she was happy to know that her money was well spent. Pity, she thought, that she couldn't observe the effects first hand. Hearing it would simply have to do.

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MysidiaDrakkenbane

In the back of a rather ornate estate house, Val'eth sat writing in an old parchment book. The room he was in was dimly lit with only a small fire to keep warm and a candle in which to write.

Dark elves didn't need light as the other species did. Evolution had bestowed them the gift of Low Light Vision that they only needed the smallest bit of twilight to see into the darkest depths. It was widely whispered that a few families were blessed with Dark Vision, where they needed nothing to sneak around in the late hours of the night. And it was within those families that they coveted this gift. There were a few other secrets about these Houses, but finding out such information had a way of becoming hazardous to your health and Val'eth had other projects to consider.

The small beeswax candle sputtered pitifully in the dark womb of a study Val'eth had created for himself. Large heavy velvet theatrical drapes hung thickly on the massive picture windows choking whatever light could possibly find its way in. The walls were dark colored. It was hard to tell exactly what color they were with the poor light that was being displayed. The shelves were all immaculately clean and neat with each book sitting in a precise order.

Val'eth dipped a vibrant plume into a small ink bottle and lightly tapped it on the carved mouth to shake any access ink off. He continued to scribble down onto the wrinkled and age stained parchment. The light scratching sound of the quill end being pushed along seemed to give its own little "paper cuts" to the silence around him. And as insignificant as the sound was, it soothed him.

He remembered spending summers at his grandparents' estate and being lulled to sleep at the sound of his grandfather writing down his memoirs. It was that memory that called him to write his own.

Since Val'eth had arrived back in Freeport, he had taken extreme measures to be completely isolated. He wasn't the head of his House, as his sister was still alive. And in some circles, it was completely Matriarchal. He had heard of some Houses where there were in joint administration of the house among both sexes, but his family was painfully old fashioned and traditional, much to his dismay.

Being that his sister was still alive, he held some rank within the Estate, but when he was home, he preferred to be left alone and not reminded of his lesser place. Most of the house adhered to his wishes. It was only in the dire of emergencies or his own personal wants, that he was to be disturbed.

A small rap came on the thick wooden door. Val'eth, raising an eyebrow, looked up at the door curious as to who was brave enough to disobey him.

"New servants...", he muttered. His sister was always lavishly spending his family's money in buying new things. Servants were among them. Then again, they never seemed to last long in his Estate. His sister had some rather unusual...desires. The methods of her "entertainment" were used by him in the strictest of interrogations where time was a precious commodity and he had little of it.

"Yes?", he said annoyed.

The door slowly parted open and a rather scrawny, malnourished Halfling peered from the other side. Val'eth didn't recognize the servant. New indeed.

"Ugh. I really must talk to my sister about where she gets her help, these days.", he said to himself.

"I'm sorry, Master, for troubling you...", he began to stammer.

"Yes, what is it? You've gone this far in disturbing me. You might as well come out and say what you thought important to interrupt me about.", Val'eth said and continued to write in his book.

"Your guest is here.", he said softly.

Val'eth paused and looked up perplexed. Guest? He didn't remember inviting anyone over.

In the years that he has encountered the people of Freeport, he began to witness and understand the talents and gifts of certain species. He knew that Erudites were noted for their extreme intelligence and their wordless speech that they used amongst themselves. The first time he encountered one, he felt this brush across his mind. It was almost like watching what a delicate wind did to a few pieces of paper with an open window.

He only knew of two types who did this, Erudites and those in the Enchanting arts. Feeling this same breeze across his mind and gave a small smirk remembering that he did, in fact, invite over a very special guest.

"Yes, yes. Show him in.", Val'eth said and waved off the servant. He continued to write and when he heard the soft thud of the door closing, he looked up to see a rather largely built Barbarian looking right at him.

Val'eth half expected to see a High Elf working his way up from his Qeynos betrayal. But a Barbarian...? Perhaps it had worked down that far, Val'eth thought to himself.

"I had sent for...", Val'eth began.

"I am Rockmon.", the large man said in an usually quiet voice. The Barbarian was taller than most, but held a thinner stature than others of his kind. Val'eth surmised it was due to his guest's chosen profession. It was the balance of life. For a strong mind, you give up a strong body and vice versa.

"I see.", Val'eth answered. He quietly rose from his seat and waved his hand over the fire. Like a cat reaching up to be stroked, the flames roared up, quickly illuminating the room around them.

Rockmon, being dressed in the appropriate robes, found it courteous to take off the hood he was wearing. A slickly shaved head gave it's own soft sheen in the firelight. Rockmon's features were heavy and thick boned like all of his kind, but barely held any muscle mass. He had his traditional decorating tattoos and his long beard was kept neat, trim, and braided laying clean against his robe. His eyes, though...that is where his power was kept as they held the unusual color of pale aqua green. It was as if Val'eth was staring into the foamy sea of Thundering Stepps and they seemed to show their power from within.

"Please, have a seat.", Val'eth said as he waved his hand towards an adjacent chair. Rockmon inclined his head politely and sat down in the lush velvet arm chair. Val'eth walked over to a small silk woven chord on the wall and gave it a small tug. The glittery sound of bells was heard in the distance. Val'eth walked around him to take his seat and he held a knowing smirk on his face.

"What is it?", Rockmon asked

"I see the family resemblance.", Val'eth said cryptically. He was about to embellish on that when there was another knock at the door and a short human female child walked into the room.

"Bring me my usual and a small repast for our guest.", Val'eth said and the servant bowed deeply as she left the room without a sound.

"Family resemblance?", Rockmon began.

Val'eth paused for a moment before taking a large book from the table they were sitting at and began to thumb through various pages. "I understand that you spent the majority of your childhood in the Freeport Orphanage and that you knew little of your parents or even your extended family...", Val'eth said as he scanned through the book.

"Yes. You could have simply asked me this when we met previously. It's no secret that I did my growing up in the Academy. Why did you drag me here?", Rockmon asked leaning back and folding his arm gently.

"My family is known for being Chroniclers within my own race. We write down everything since history has a wicked way of repeating itself and changing at the same time. Time wears many masks and only when we learn what they are, that we can change them ourselves.", Val'eth began, "My great great grandfather had written a passage in his memoirs that I think you might be interested in."

Val'eth leaned back and took the large dusty book into his lap. His blood red eyes scanned over a page and with his finger, he followed it along as he read.

"...even after Luclin had torn us asunder, I found myself in the middle of a racial evolution. The lines that were firmly in place began to almost instantly blur and those of us who would sooner kill a lesser, have begun to entertain the idea of friendship and even furthering the relationship into marriage. One such Barbarian family comes to mind as several of that clan branched off with a village of High Elves. The mutual relationship guaranteed their survival as one would surely die without the other's help. The Barbarians provided the protection and the High Elves provided the medicines to treat their sick..."

Rockmon leaned into the table and narrowed his eyes and he began to recall the familiarity of such a story. "Please, continue.", he said softly.

"He doesn't say much more than that until a few years later...", Val'eth said as he scanned through the book. "Ah, here it is... ‘...and in looking in on the experimental Barbarian/High Elf clan, I could scarcely believe my eyes when children, born of both, were running around as though such a thing should be natural. I was astonished and surprised to hear that the High Elves even entertaining the idea of cross breeding as they are almost as much a purist as the Teir'Dal...'

Rockmon was so enthralled with Val'eth's story that he barely noticed the servant laying out a wonderful platter of meats, fruits, and cheeses. If it weren't for the spicy aroma of the marinated meats, he would have ignored it completely.

"I don't think I have to tell you what happened from there.", Val'eth said and grabbed the jewel encrusted goblet that was placed before him.

"Little was told me and the Freeport Library is scarce on the books before The Shattering." Rockmon said as he began to pick at the sprig of grapes.

"The High Elves that have rumored to still exist on Greater Faydark were the ones that supposedly ransacked your village. They consider half breeds an abomination. I understand that the blood in you is nearly pure...", Val'eth said looking up briefly for a reaction.

Rockmon's jaw set hard. Unless a trained eye knew what they were looking for, one look at Rockmon would tell you that he was Barbarian. It wasn't unheard of for Barbarians to carry such an eye color, but it was due to his High Elf heritage that he had them. Since the ransacking, he had become a purist - warding off anything that was of two races.

It was understandable. It was his family's indiscretions that lead to their demise and Rockmon wasn't given the education of tolerance. He managed as best he could with what he had and unfortunately, a purist was what he became.

"I am grateful for the history lesson, but I still fail to see why I'm here.", Rockmon said, his ire growing.

"What if I told you that a certain cousin was still alive...several times removed, of course.", Val'eth said smirking. Rockmon squinted deep in thought. Seeing his hint fall on deaf ears, he continued, "..with a certain wife of an endangered race..."

Rockmon's eyes widened realizing who he meant. "Machene lived?"

"As did his ssindossa of a wife.", Val'eth nearly spat.

Machene's family were cousins to Rockmon's and the only branch that seemed to be of pure Barbarian blood. Sadly, the majority of the Drakkenbanes had died out and the rest of his extended family were half breeds and so on. The idea of Machene creating a half breed race with his Rydian wife infuriated Rockmon to no end. Now he began to see why Val'eth went to great lengths to arrange this meeting.

"It seems we both have a mutual enemy on our hands.", Val'eth mentioned.

Rockmon, at a loss for words, looked up at Val'eth. "What do you need me for?"

"I had heard that you were the top of your class and that your abilities are worth mentioning. It seems your High Elf heritage had given you purpose after all..", Val'eth said, "I am in need of such abilities."

Rockmon eyed curiously at the goblet Val'eth seemed to covet. Whatever was in it, he held with great enthusiasm.

"What would you have me do?", Rockmon asked finally.

"I have a plan in place that needs some...encouragement. The ideas I have for the future don't exactly include a Has Been Queen trying to regain a fallen throne. Simply put, I need you to drive her mad.", Val'eth said.

"Insane? Whatever for?", Rockmon asked with his curiosity peaked.

"She has been painfully elusive to the means I have dispatched. It seems the gods themselves are playing chess with me in this. You using such abilities would make it easier for my plan to be executed. I understand that your abilities have grown to where all you would need is something of treasured value to her in order to do this. If I can get you this item, will you comply?" Val'eth said and took another drink.

Rockmon's eyes seemed to ripple with an aqua fire as he grinned evilly in the firelight around them.

"Without question, Val'eth.", he said, his voice curling with malice.

Val'eth gave a soft chuckle. "Excellent."

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