The arguments erupted into the late hours that Monday evening in front of the houses on Freedom Road in North Freeport. Patrons exiting the Soulfire Club with full bellies, and a little too much ale stumbled into a heated conflict between a half elf-arcane student-simple bar wench, and a jovial aristocrat Teri’dal male demanding answers to questions she had no intention of indulging him with. Arimyst persisted she tell him the where-about of his former captor, Galadadrid, and what her role in the abduction was. Being a novice wizard she merely opened portals for his rescue party, including a lovely lady dragon, to escape. It was his rescue party that set this tale in motion and would seal her fate, as well as their own, and potentially all of Norrath’s, but I shall get to that part later… One of the Teir’dal female patrons drew a dagger at the mention of the paladin’s guild that took hostage the male Teri’dal spouting great threats against him. She also picked a fight with another patron, the white dragon…in her Drak’dal form, Lady Kaenarra. With the all of the Teir’dals distracted by the Drak’dal’s rage, the arcane pirate wench distanced herself realizing that Galdadrid, would never be safe from these citizens of Freeport, unless she could find a way to protect him! She went to him instantly to warn of the impending attack, then opened a portal pulling them both through. It reminded her of the rescue night and it was too much like the feeling she had when she summoned a similar one for her former mercenary guild before one of them stabbed her, closing the portal, leaving her to die. Had Galadadrid not healed her, she would have surely perished. It shocked her that he would trust her to go through it and not even bring question. His naïve nature scared her and she had to act immediately to protect him, she owed him at least that much as she knew the truth of why Arimyst was taken, and she knew the others would never listen for she was also on their side once and believed the deception of Ariaprima. Her magic alone would never be strong enough so she turned to the strongest and darkest magicians she could find in the Hall of Necromancy. There she begged Iayant Wijdani to help her cast a spell that would protect Galadadrid from the patrons, and others who were also after him. Iayant pondered her request before a haunting smile charmed his lips, he produced a detailed scroll written on the page of a book from the case behind him, his sly smile she assumed was part of his dark nature and thought only of Galadadrid who was clueless to her plan. Iayant, leaned down to her and whispered to her that the only place that she could preform the spell, would be the Bastion of the Tranquil. She hastily took Galadadrid’s hand, summoned her wings and flew into the Bastion. The spell, she tore out of the book was detailed enough to show her where to say the incantion, paying no mind to the Roetellics she flattened her palm, blowing across it produced her own heart in her hand, beating red-pure and selfless-exactly what was needed. Galadadrid looked mortified as she grabbed his wrist yelling the incantation before falling lifeless at his feet, her heart sinking back into her chest glowing in a strange void-like shade on the right side. He tried to lay hands on her, called out her name, then he in all his naivete picked her limp form up and carried the sacrifice back to Iayant…who was waiting, trying to act surprised when they returned. Galadadrid cried out to the necromancer for help…he just wanted to save her, “please save her!” Iayant instructed Galadadrid to lay her lifeless body in the center of the circle before him. Galadadrid, backing up bumping into tables all over the room, now taking notice of the body parts and other things of shadow he was blinded to when they first came to talk to the necromancer… Her body rose in the center of several skeletons the only words Galadadrid understood of Iayant’s incantation were Al’Shabir… only a few moments passed of Iayant’s gibberish before her body floated back down to the floor and she woke, a little different-more distant…half-hearted. Many residents of Freeport witnessed strange events after the curse began, but it wasn’t until an old Troll witch by the name of Gretchen appeared handing out confections that brought forth prophetic visions appeared that they began to suspect something was different about the half elf… the witch took a special interest in her, encouraging her to eat the confection yet knowing she wouldn’t and it would just melt in the palm of her hand. This was the first time she fainted in public, the first time she was told her heart was dying, and the first time she had to freeze it to make it stop hurting…a week before the new moon. No one could have known the consequences of that dark unholy night…until she fell to the ground in the Drak’dal’s establishment, at Galadadrid’s feet, a few nights before the moon would come to progress Iayant’s ritual to bring Al’Shabir back to life… The QUEST should your character choose to accept: You must bravely travel with your companions to the Dhalgar Precipice of the Wizard, Znova on the night of new full moon and stop Iayant and his minions from completing the ritual to un-banish Al’Shabiz! In order to stop him from performing the ritual you must recover the sacrifices from his minions on all three levels before finding “the Stone Face with Eyes that Seep Void and can never look away!” The final battle will be brutal so bring your best dice- umm I mean random 100 abilities! The When: Open RP Event I "Hear My Heart" , AB server 4/21/17 At 9:30pm EST (immediately after Slipp’s Harvest Moon event planning meeting @ 7pm EST) The Who: We invite all to participate, or be a spectator, in this RP event to stop Iayant from preforming the ritual to bring the most evil and vile necromancer, Al’Shabiz back from his banishment in the void to torment all Norrathians… The What: Ready for an old-school Role Play adventure? This is part one of two RP events to come this spring, so please don’t miss it! The Loot: Participants will be able to “Plunder” house items!
"Walk in the Shadow." The scritching of the nib of Galadadrid's pen could be heard throughout his office as Child Byar came in and saluted, fist to chest. Without looking up, Galad simply intoned, "report." He was tired. And he looked it, too. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, and he had a haggard, wan expression on his face as he continued to write in his ledger. The ink had long went dry and he hadn't realized it. The soldier he had addressed, Byar, a gaunt man with a cold expression on his face spoke with an equally chill tone. "There is movement, Lord Captain Commander. Our questioners have gotten wind that your... Lady..." that word spoken with a touch of scorn that caused Galad to look up with a scowl. But he said nothing. "She is being held to partake in a ritual. Surely this comes from the Shadow, and if I may be so bold, I said as much the day you brought her here." "Thank you, Child Byar. You may report yourself to the Hand of the Light when you are done with your report for insubordination. Continue." Byar's lips twisted in a sneer, but he continued. "The full moon approaches, when the ceremony will be complete. It is said to be at a place where a dwarven face is carved into the rock." "Maldura?" Galad asked. Byar shrugged and answered vaguely. "An island seems to be in the report." Galad nodded and set aside his quill, arising. "Then I will go myself and meet this challenge. You are dismissed." Galad had dismissed him from his thoughts, as well, and did not hear Byar's murmured "shadowspawn" retort as he stalked from the room. Galad made a brisk pace to the armory, putting on his full armor. Not the armor of the Children of the Light, but something else, something darker, reflecting his current mood. As he left the Fortress of the Light, he could feel the eyes of his men on him... Surely he had seen his last day as the leader of the Children of the Light...
