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A Letter Home

Aedon Durreah

Village of Aegis
Stratics Veteran
Stratics Legend
Sitting on the balcony overlooking the waters Aedon strained his eyes to look into the distance. He thought that if he could concentrate, he might be able to see past the long mines and catch a glimpse of a more peaceful land, and his home.


It seemed as though he had not spent more than a week in his own bed since He and Janissan moved their family from the Yew woods. He had made many promises to his wife, most of which he had thus far failed to keep. She asked little of him; a safe place far from the Yew woods to raise their child. But there was always something that tugged at his mind, and drew him far from home, and back to Aegis.


In the past, she had understood his sense of duty to the folks of the small village tucked deep within a forest of ancient pine and yew trees. She herself had long been a warrior, and understood that promises made, that offers to protect those under your leadership often disrupted life and love. But with the coming of their child a change came over Jan, and though still more than capable of bashing the toughest brigand upside the head, her duty, and her vow to protect now rested in the eyes of their daughter.


Sitting back in his chair, Aedon picked up a cup of hot tea from the table. As he drank deeply from the cup his thoughts turned to what had happened in the Knights Rest and events he had heard transpired in Skara. How many innocent lives, he wondered did D’Amavir and Tailimont take in their attempt to exact retribution for the defeat they had suffered the night before? In Skara, a chest packed with the remains of some of the Rangers who kept watch in Spiritwood. In the Rest, patrons slaughtered as they enjoyed what they hoped would be a quiet drink or supper with friends.


He knew he should have run out the door when he saw them standing there. But his mind was numb, his legs frozen by the barbarity of the scene. There was no sense of regret in their voices as they proclaimed this to be a sign to those who dared to stand against them. As he listened to them, Aedon felt the cold steel of the door against his back. It would have been easily understood if he had flung the door aside, and escaped by the path he had already planned out. But he was unable to tear himself from the visage of those who lay butchered across the tables and strewn about on the floors.


As he slowly came to his senses, he felt the handle of the door behind him, and grasp it. At that moment his head reeled from a blow which sent him forcefully to the side. Before he could recover from this he was struck a second time, and slumped to the ground. They then sat down at the tables and continued to drain the ale from the bottles on the tables. As he lay between wakefulness and an unconscious state, Aedon thought he heard Mikael saying;


“Take this as a warning to you, Gillian and Those Rangers. There will be payback for what was done. And tell Gillian we left a present for her. “


He watched as they left through the door, and then with great effort, pulled himself into a chair at the table. He vaguely remembered two other people coming into the Rest and trying to help.


Setting the cup back on the table Aedon again turned to look out across the waters. He knew now that there would be little in the way of peace in the Glade for some time to come. He realized that the Rangers of Spiritwood, Skara along with Gillian and Thom any in truth any of the good people that enjoyed the quiet line in the woods would suffer and be put to task defending their homes and selves. The monks would be the first to feel their controlling hand as they sought to gain a strangle hold on the Abbey. And in no place, from Yew to Britian-Skara to Moonglow would their presence not be felt.


Taking up the tablet he kept close at hand, Aedon turned his gaze from the water, and began to write;


My Darling Jan,

I know I had made promises, and at the time I had fully planned to keep them. But recent events have brought forth an old foe, and I find that I will not be able to return home this week as I had planned. I know I have not been the sort of husband you deserve and a very absent father to Kylee. But in all truth, you knew well the way I am before the wedding.

I do not use this as an excuse for my constant breaking of promises. Nothing can excuse the seeming lack of concern I have shown for my own family, while constantly running back to Aegis to aid the families of other men.

If all goes well, we should be able to clear up this matter freeing me to return home by Yule. But you and I both know that dire situations rarely are set to right so quickly.

If things go ill here, and I am unable to return home again, know that you and Kylee have always been on my mind and in my heart. I wish I could have done better by you both. I wish we could have spent countless nights before a fire wrapped in each other’s arms. But my fate it seems is to always be set apart from that which means the most to me.

Tell Kylee daddy loves her, and that one day, in some land or another we will at long last abide together.

The night winds are turning cold now, and the pale light of the moon drifts across the balcony, her soft light illuminating the picture of you I keep always at my side. I have loved you since first I saw you as you rose in defense of your brother Vendyrr at his trial. And no distance, no separation, any Hand of terror shall ever diminish the clarity of your beauty and grace forever etched in my mind and heart.


Always and Forever

Aedon



Finishing the letter home, Aedon folded it carefully and slipped it into a small tube. Standing, he walked to the railing and gave a whistle. He watched as the large swallow-tailed kite flew in and perched itself upon the banister. Tying the canister to a collar around the bird’s neck, Aedon looked into it's eyes and said:


“Nemira, take this to Janissan, and be a swift as the winds allow.”


The bird immediately launched itself skyward, and was quickly far beyond sight out over the waters.
 

Rick Moore

Visitor
Stratics Veteran
Prelude to Aedon's post



The sun was beginning to set over the Yew forest as the four riders kicked their mounts hard...Mikael screamed at the top of his lungs for them to ride harder... the timing of their assault had to be perfect.

Dervish, the tall pale tribesman from whence only Malekai knew he came was first to arrive. He leapt from his mount spear in hand, the bones and other body parts hewn from recent kills dangled from his armor like scraps of food in a fat man's beard. As Dervish made for the front door of the tavern Malekai, the brooding liche brought his thundering crimson steed to heel. Malekai bade Dervish "Hold... Wait for the othersss!"

Omen and Mikael arrived just in time to see them take up positions to the left and right of the entrance. Mikael strode to the door kryss at the ready, turning to his comrades he growled "Let no one live! Slay them all!"

Mikael kicked open the door to the tavern, as the Hand poured through Dervish nearly knocked Mikael over in his lust for blood. The tribesman dove cleanly over the first table occupied singularly by the largest man Mikael had ever seen walk the Yew wood. With eyes wide open in surprise the giant of a man vainly swung his mug in an attempt to strike Dervish in the head. Too late.... the spear plunged entirely in his chest, protruding through the back of the chair he had been residing, the head of the spear was neatly wiped clean by the fabric of his seat as it passed through.

As Mikael recovered his balance he strode menacingly towards a table occupied by what looked like two young lovers oblivious of what was happening around them and most of all what was about to happen to them. Without offering a word Mikael simply skewered the young man. Leaning in close Mikael felt almost euphoric as the warm blood soaked his bare hand. Wasting no time in the moment Mikael released his hold on the kryss and unsheathed a dagger from his belt, reaching across the table to grab a full head of the girl's hair, he wrenched her head forward and drove the dagger into the back of her neck pinning her now limp body to the table.

Omen and Malekai wasted no time in securing the room. The three remaining patrons along with the bartender were screaming as they made for the rear entrance. Words of Power were spoken.... fire and energy filled the room. It was over in a matter of seconds.

Mikael looked around the room and made for the bar as Malekai seemed to float gracefully about inspecting his work. Mikael grabbed a couple jugs of ale tossed one to Dervish and said.. "Drink up... He will be here shortly."


Mikael D'Amavir >H<
Hand of Terror
The only way to make good is to be bad
ICQ: 8630161
 

Aranha

Adventurer
Stratics Veteran
Dervish stood clutching the bottle, surveying the massacre before him, glaring towards Mikael "None of them. Not one of them is worthy".. "Soon" Mikael said, "More will come, ensure they do not escape"
He concealed himself nearest the door and waited. At last the man that they had sought had arrived, Dervish watched him as he moved slowly closer to the door, sizing him up. This man. This man is a warrior. This man is worthy. He growled appreciatively under his breath, almost daring him to reach for the handle.. Then he heard it, the words he had been waiting for. "So, Aedon .. how has your evening been?.."

He snapped, as if pulled from a trance. The bottle he had held exploding with a crash against the side of the mans head, just as quickly it was over again. He stood glowering over Aedons wounded body, slowly pulling a knife from its sheath on his belt as the man writhed in pain. He turned again to Mikael, his eyes burning intently "Him. I want him." Mikael returned a bemused look "Not him, at least not today. Take one of the others" .. Dervish growled insolently, gripping the blade as he looked back down at Aedon, committing the mans face to memory as he turned away. He was disinterested in their jeers and gloating, instead kicking the doors open and dragging one of the limp corpses along behind him.

He paused as he left the Tavern. Something in the air, something other than blood. Someone else was here, hiding, watching. He growled again, he had no time for these games, he returned to purpose, hauling the body over his shoulder as he disappeared into the deep forests of Yew ...
 

Jordan Thyme

Seasoned Veteran
Stratics Veteran
She and Thom stopped by the Abbey first. An altercation was all Armstrong had said. He couldn't pinpoint faces or names. Truth be told he really didn't need to. Everything aside from that was as it should be. The Rest was next. Clean, it was incredibly clean as if someone had just scrubbed it top to bottom in pungent cleaner. There was nothing on the tables, nothing on top of the counters and the chairs were all neatly in their place. She exhaled in relief before doing a lap around the castle in patrol and heading home.
 
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